Author's note: I'll keep this short, but the TL;DR version is that life got messy, but I'm writing again. I cooked up this short story for Camp NaNoWriMo back in April and it's complete, so you won't be left hanging, dear reader. I commissioned my dear friend and most talented artist, Saga "Pyxistyx" MacKenzie for the cover art. You can find her work over at sagaillustrates/posts. Please consider supporting her!

Chapter 1 - A Rat Problem

A cool, salty morning breeze drifted in Azzan's office on the third floor of Anvil's Fighter's Guild as he sat, head in his hands and elbows on his desk. The Redguard squeezed his eyes shut, taking a break from the reports that lay scattered on the wooden table. Reports on new recruits, reports on training sessions, reports on weapon stores, reports on bandit activity. Oh, how he missed field work. The hours spent training new recruits were just too few. The tedious paperwork always seemed never ending, but such was his lot since he'd become head of this chapter.

Just another day in Anvil.

A short rap at his office door startled him out of his momentary lapse of concentration, but it was a most welcome distraction. He sat back in his chair and called out, "Come!"

A short, slender Dunmer woman stepped partway in, and asked "I was told you would have work for me, is this a bad time?" She didn't seem hesitant, like most of the new recruits, and yet Azzan had never seen her before. Odd. He was fairly certain he knew most of the senior members of the Fighters Guild.

"Not at all," he replied as he gestured to the chairs across him. With a small nod, she strode across the room and took a seat. Her assurance, the way she moved, told him she'd seen battle before. This was no wide-eyed, naive woman looking for adventure. That made Azzan curious.

"I don't believe we've met before. I'm Azzan, as you probably know, head of the Anvil Fighters Guild chapter here in Anvil. Have you transferred from Morrowind?"

Her reply was measured, and careful, he noticed.

"Not exactly, no... I'm an Apprentice. I only joined a few days ago. Vilena Donton in Chorrol said I should see you." She held herself ramrod straight on her chair: clearly, he'd struck a nerve, so he focused on why she was here.

"Apprentice, huh? You must've met Burz then! How was your stay in Cheydinhal?"

A small smile played on her lips. "Good. Burz gro-Khash, he's... quite formidable."

"Ha!" Azzan barked a laugh. "'Formidable', eh? I suppose that's a polite way of saying 'gruff', but yes, he is at that." He sat back in his chair, crossing his fingers in front of his mouth as he gave it some thought. They had a few contracts on hold which might be suitable for a new recruit. "Well, what are your strengths? What weapons do you use?"

The Dunmer snickered, a surprising sound. She was definitely nothing like the new recruits Azzan typically saw. "Well..." She held up a hand to her face, and small flames started dancing on her fingertips.

The Redguard suppressed a wry smile. "Perhaps you have us mistaken for the Mages Guild?"

In a flash, the young woman had produced a small dagger which she placed on his desk. A split-second later, she had a short sword in hand. The flames still burned at the end of her fingers, never wavering. "Ever heard of nightblades?" she asked blankly.

Well, that explained the leather armor.

"Sure," replied Azzan. "But we don't get many." And then, just like that, he had it. The perfect assignment. Once again, he sat forward in his chair, gazing at her over the dagger and scattered reports. "I think I've got something that could suit your talents. Arvena Thelas has some problem with rats in her house."

"Rats." She echoed, disbelief clearly audible in the word.

"Yes, rats." He confirmed, struggling to keep the amusement from his voice. "She'll tell you more about the contract. Her house is right here in Anvil. Just across the street, actually."

"Rats. Alright then." As she got up and turned to leave, Azzan realized something.

"Wait, I don't think you gave me your name and Vilena hasn't sent me the list of new recruits for the week just yet."

The slender woman turned, the surprise clearly written on her narrow face and in her slanted eyes. "Oh. It's Maralie." That small smile touched her lips again, and Azzan smiled back.

It lasted only a second, and then she was gone, the door to Azzan's office closing behind her.

Just another day in Anvil, right?

Maralie lay in wait, crouched behind some shrubbery and backed up against the stone wall that enclosed the city of Anvil. This contract hadn't turned out at all like she'd planned. She'd expected to kill a few rats, clean out a cave or basement, rid the place of vermin. Instead, she ended up defending the beasts. From mountain lions, no less. After spending the afternoon beyond city limits with the hunter Pinarus Inventius, she'd managed to kill quite a few of them. Regardless, that wasn't enough to satisfy Arvena, and now she was here. In the woman's garden. Waiting for an Argonian to show up. Maybe.

She stifled a sigh and silently shifted her weight to the other foot. This contract wasn't at all what she'd expected. Anvil hadn't been anything like what she expected. And Azzan hadn't been anything like what she expected. Most Redguards she'd known had been serious folk, fierce warriors, and hardly prone to smiling, never mind laughter. Of course, the members of House Redoran were probably quite different from the rest of their people. Regardless, it was a nice change. After all that had happened in the past week, well... "Life changing" didn't even begin to define what had happened.

Maralie's hand slipped to one of her pockets, her fingers stroking the large gemstone of the Amulet of Kings. She hadn't quite decided what she would do yet, but eventually, she'd have to deal with it all. She could only run away for so long. Maybe on the way back from Anvil, she'd...

As the rustle of dead leaves brought her attention back to the dark garden, she promised herself she would try.

The afternoon had come and gone without Azzan being disturbed. He'd had a light midday meal in his office, as he often did. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy sharing meals with his fellow guildmates, but what was supposed to be a short break usually ended up being longer than he'd planned. It wasn't so much the quality of the food, but rather that of the company. Huurwen, Llensi, Rhano, Sten, Vigdis... They were all good people, committed to upholding the principles of the Fighters Guild and doing as much good in Tamriel as they could.

In a sense, they had become his family, a family to replace the father and sister he'd lost in Hammerfell. It might've seemed like an odd decision, rationing out time with people he loved, but the reports on his desk seemed even more numerous then they had been this morning. At least he could join his guildmates, now that the day was drawing to a close and dusk was almost upon them. It would soon be time to share the evening meal together, and that was always a pleasant affair. It also offered Azzan opportunities to seek counsel: more than once, new recruits arrived cowed and skittish in his office, but had been haughty and rude in the Guild Hall. That was not an attitude he wanted to condone in his Guild chapter.

It was with some relief that Azzan learned Maralie had acted with the others much as she had with him: quiet, yet confident. Prudent, but open. She definitely had potential. As a member of the Guild, of course.

He spent the evening training in the hall, trying to convince himself that he was just staying in shape, not watching for her return. As he retired to his quarters on the second floor, he wondered, how long could solving a rat problem possibly take?...