Ales, Scales and Skeletons
The door to the Braidwood Inn opened.
A green-scaled Argonian woman named Runs-With-Scissors walked through. She had a slender, but muscular build, as was common for a professional acrobat. At one point in her life she had been an entertainer but now she was a fighter, as evidenced by the glass war-scythe she carried on her back and the glass dagger at her belt. Her clothing, or lack thereof, drew a lot of attention: she wore nothing but a few stripes of leather armor. Her waist, shoulders, arms and legs were all exposed. She didn't even have any footwear.
A second Argonian woman named Violet-Fang walked in after her. Her scales were a dark magenta. She had an ebony battle-axe slung across her back and an ebony war-axe on her belt. Like her companion, she barely wore a thing. A few pieces of dull iron armor were held together by tight leather strips. Like Runs-With-Scissors, Violet-Fang also went barefoot.
The two Argonians were both bald. Their heads were devoid of any spikes, spines, fins or feathers. Their snouts were also more elongated than was typical for their kind. Both of them were plain looking by Argonian standards, but the locals saw them as nothing more than beast folk.
"Huh, no bard. How droll," Runs-With-Scissors observed.
Violet-Fang snorted. The inn having no bard could certainly be considered a good thing. The bards they had come across in Skyrim so far left a lot to be desired.
They walked over to the innkeeper, a female Nord, who was behind the counter.
"Welcome to the Braidwood Inn. I'm Iddra. Looking for food, or beds?"
"Both," Violet-Fang answered.
"We can do that. We got some nice comfy beds here at the Braidwood Inn. I hope you'll stay for a bit. We could certainly use the business."
"Business has been slow?" Runs-With-Scissors asked as she learned against the counter. Her tail swayed gently from side to side.
"Unfortunately, yes. Travelers and traders have started to avoid Kynesgrove. It's too bad. This is really quite a nice town when you get down to it. Just look at the view!"
A male Nord suddenly approached them. "What brings a pair of barely-clothed Argonians to Skyrim?"
"This is my husband, Kjeld," Iddra explained.
"Things are a bit too peaceful in Black Marsh at the moment," Violet-Fang said. "But we heard that there was fighting up north."
"Mercenaries, huh? Judging from those weapons, you two look like you know how to fight. If you're lookin' fer work. I got a job for ya."
"And what would that be?" Violet-Fang crossed her arms. She highly doubted the innkeepers had a job worth her time. Her skills and axes would be wasted on chopping wood.
"I need you to kill a necromancer."
"Really now?" Violet-Fang hid her surprise.
"Bastard took up residence in Cronvangr Cave. His army of undead has been scaring people away. Traders have been taking alternate routes to get to Windhelm now, even if it takes longer. It's no secret that our inn has suffered greatly as of late, and so has business at Steamscorch Mine. It's difficult to get anyone here to do business."
"Magic is nothing but trouble," Iddra added in a disapproving tone. "The whole village is suffering from one necromancer."
"We can take care of this for you," Runs-With-Scissors said. "Where is Cronvangr Cave, exactly?"
"It's southwest of here."
"Want to go take care of this now?" Runs-With-Scissors asked Violet-Fang.
"Might as well." Violet-Fang shrugged her shoulders. They had come to the inn to settle in for the night, but going out to kill a single necromancer didn't sound too taxing. And it had been a few days since they had a decent fight.
After purchasing and downing some mead, the two Argonians left the inn. The sun was already starting to set in the sky. There was a slight breeze in the air, bringing with it a chill. If Runs-With-Scissors and Violet-Fang ever wore actual clothing or armor, they wouldn't have been bothered by the wind so much. But they were used to the warmth and humidity of Black Marsh and they both preferred forgoing restricting armor or clothing in order to enjoy an increased freedom of movement in battle.
They set off in the general direction of southwest, hoping the cave wouldn't be too hard to find.
Even in the failing sunlight, it didn't take the two Argonians very long to find Cronvangr Cave. All they had to do was follow the mammoth bones.
They stopped their search when they came to a mouth of a cave that was flooded with spider webs at the entrance. There was a dead mammoth caught in some of the webbing.
"Looks like this place could be trouble."
"You think, Scissors?"
There was no signage indicating that this was Cronvangr Cave, but it certainly looked like it would be the lair of a necromancer, so Runs-With-Scissors and Violet-Fang drew their weapons and went in.
The first room was covering in webs.
Four frostbite spiders were aimlessly crawling around.
"Finally, a decent fight!" Violet-Fang charged in with reckless abandon. Skyrim's fauna left a lot to be desired. Foxes, wolves and bears were hardly a challenge. Frost trolls were too rare to find easily. At least the frostbite spiders were vaguely similar to other animals the Argonians were accustomed to in Black Marsh.
But after a quick slaughter, Violet-Fang realized that appearances was the only thing the frostbite spiders had in common with the creatures of her native land. "That was pathetic! How could they die so easily?"
"Seemed like a dangerous fight to me." Runs-With-Scissors effortlessly twirled her glass war-scythe around. "We nearly died of boredom."
"Black Marsh's mud crabs are more fearsome than these spiders. Mud crabs!"
"Well, they aren't very big." Runs-With-Scissors nudged one of the corpses with her foot. "I think we just killed a bunch of young ones."
"I hope the necromancer's more of a challenge." Violet-Fang started looking around for a passageway.
"If you get too bored, Violet, we could always go declare war on the Aldmeri Dominion."
"Ah, yes. Just the two of us against the entire Aldmeri Dominion."
"At least it wouldn't be boring. Besides, those assholes are asking for it anyway."
They found a narrow tunnel entrance that led them further into the cave. It was covered in webbing. As they trudged through it, both Argonians were aware that the vibrations would carry through the webbing and alert the rest of the frostbite spiders in the cave.
But when they emptied out of the webbed tunnel into a sparsely lit pathway, they were confronted not by spiders, but skeletons.
Even in the poor light, the skeletons spotted the two Argonians immediately. Their dark eye sockets stared down their prey in an unblinking gaze. It was a wonder they could see at all, considering they didn't have eyes. The skeletons let loose several otherworldly shrieks, declaring their hunger for battle. How skeletons managed to produce such sounds in the first place was something better off not thought about.
Thinking needlessly overcomplicated things. It was far more fun to fight.
Violet-Fang struck at the first skeleton, only for the undead warrior to block her attack. It was an impressive display of skill on the skeleton's part, to successfully block an ebony battle-axe with nothing more than a rusty iron war-axe. The strength and skill of skeletons came in all forms: from the truly weak and pitiful to near-unstoppable instruments of death. It all really depended on the skill of the necromancer. That the skeletons weren't completely worthless fighters gave the Argonians some hope that the upcoming fight with the necromancer would be entertaining.
Still, the skeletons were outmatched. The first blocked Violet-Fang's attack only to be struck by Runs-With-Scissors' war-scythe. The second skeleton struck at Scissors with an iron mace, only for her to block the attack and use the skeleton's own momentum to knock it forward into Violet's swing. The third skeleton made a wide, sweeping swing with a claymore, trying to hit both Argonians in a single strike. Violet-Fang backed away while Runs-With-Scissors somersaulted over the skeleton. The undead warrior immediately turned around to strike the acrobat, but caught Violet's battle-axe in the back.
With the first three skeletons defeated, they started down the narrow path that wound down further into the cave in a spiral. More skeletons started trampling up the path from below. Violet and Scissors noticed something different. There was an Orsimer skeleton with a war-hammer, and Argonian skeleton with a halberd and a Khajiit skeleton with a short-sword. Apparently, the necromancer was into diversity.
The diversity didn't help any; the skeletons fell just as the first group did. More skeletons charged up at the Argonians as they fought their way down the winding path until the reached the bottom.
The bottom of the cavern was flooded with water. Several corpses floated around; evidently other warriors that had failed to best the skeleton army.
There was still a rocky path they could follow and it took them pass an old wooden sign that read: Cronvangr Broodlair.
"Really, now." Scissors stopped at the sign. "What is the point of this? Did the necromancer put this thing up? Calling something a 'broodlair' isn't going to deter anyone who could beat an army of skeletons."
"Come on, Scissors. We better hurry before the necromancer decides to flee."
"Flee? They never flee. No one ever does. No one has that much sense. Everyone always thinks they can kill the two Argonian women. Half the time they don't believe we know how to use our own weapons!"
The narrow tunnel full of webs, twists, and turns, but no enemies and no sign of the necromancer. That changed when it emptied them out into the large 'broodlair.'
There were empty ale bottles everywhere. The place smelled like a brewery. A quartet of skeletons stood guard, and moved to attack when the Argonians got too close. Runs-With-Scissors and Violet-Fang each took two opponents and defeated them with ease.
Then they spotted a humanoid figure in the flickering light the torches in the room provided. The person was sprawled face-first on the floor, almost looking it he was caught in some of the spider webbing that adorned the ground, but he soon stood up as the Argonians approached.
This was not what they were expecting. The figure before them was fully clad in ebony armor, with the exception of his head. With his face exposed it was easy to tell he was a Breton. There was a long, horizontal scar running across his face, a sign someone had tried to take him down before. There was also an ebony war-axe hanging from his waist.
The armored Breton paid the two Argonians little mind, he was more concerned with finishing off a bottle of ale he picked up off the floor.
"You're the necromancer?" Violet-Fang asked.
"W-what did you expect?" The necromancer unleashed a loud bleach. "Some fool wearing nothing but a black robe with a skull on it? I assume it's you two that have been killing my skeletons." His eyes wandered, as if his brain were addled but they soon focused when he realized his opponents were female… and barely clothed.
"They were already dead, stupid," Scissors said.
The necromancer just stared at their feminine curves for a moment before continuing on.
"Why the fuck are you trashing my lair? Wha-what I'd ever do to you?" The necromancer's speech was slurred and he kept repeating the beginning of some words.
"An innkeeper hired us to kill you." Violet-Fang held her battle-axe at the ready. "Your thralls have been scaring people away from the area and is killing her business."
"So you're j-just going to kill me? What the fuck is wrong with you people? I haven't done a–a-anything to anyone. Unlike those assholes up in Kynesgrove. I've done nothing to nobody. Those assholes were cutting up Kyne's sacred trees for lumber! W-wh-what are they paying you?" He let out a burp. "Twenty septims? A hundred septims? W-what if I pay you instead? Pay you to not kill me, and kill those motherfuckers instead?"
"You're not going to buy your way out of this." Violet-Fang stood a step forward.
"Oh really? F-fine. Have it your way. Y-y-y-you think this is my first dance? I've killed dozens of you would-be murderers before. Everyone wants a piece of the poor necromancer. Well guess what?" He threw his now-empty ale bottle to the ground and put on his ebony helmet. "You can't handle it."
Runs-With-Scissors felt a little bad. The Breton could barely stand or speak, let alone fight. This was not going to be as fun as they hoped.
"Two a-a-a-a-against one, huh? Let's make this a little more f-fair." The necromancer's hand glowed purple as he summoned four skeletons. The undead soldiers hissed and started to march forward.
"WAIT!" The necromancer shouted. "Wait, wait, wait." The skeletons stopped.
"What is it?" Violet-Fang asked, annoyed and intrigued.
"Where is it? Where is it?" The necromancer looked around. "Ah! Here we go!" He picked up an ebony halberd from the floor. "Sorry. Okay, go!"
The skeletons attacked. As soon as the weapons started connecting with each other, Violet and Scissors knew they were no tougher than any of the other skeletons they had already faced. The added challenge came from the fact that the necromancer started hurling ice spikes at them with surprising accuracy.
Violet-Fang deflected an ice spike midair with her battle-axe. She had never seen a drunken man shoot so straight before.
Runs-With-Scissors finished off her two skeleton opponents and charged after the necromancer, only to be kept back by his halberd.
Having to parry away Scissors, the necromancer was no longer able to shoot ice spikes, allowing Violet-Fang to finish off her two skeletons. The necromancer quickly summoned more.
All the combatants played their roles well. The necromancer proved remarkably skilled at keeping either of the Argonians from closing the gap on him and his skeletons were just skilled enough to provide him some relieve when it looked like either Violet or Scissors could land a blow.
But eventually the fighting wound down. The stream of summoned skeletons started to run dry. It was obvious that the necromancer's magicka reserves were running low.
The armored necromancer stumbled back, nearly falling over.
"Wow. I haven't had a fight this serious in a while. You two just might kill me. I'm actually gonna have to put some effort into this. Let's see how you handle this…" The necromancer summoned a skeletal creature from the realm of madness, a mix-matched being of bones from different creatures, a shambles.
"Have fun!" The necromancer turned away from his opponents, going over to grab an ale. He removed his helmet so he could take a drink.
Runs-With-Scissors grabbed her glass dagger, took aim, and threw. The green sliver of a weapon soared through the air, shattering the ale bottle in the necromancer's hand.
"No drinky time just yet, buddy. You're not finished with us," Scissors waved a finger chastising.
"Bitch!" He looked over at Scissors, anger in his eyes. Then he looked over and noticed that Violet-Fang had already defeated his shambles.
"You two are really starting to piss me off!" His hand was enveloped in a purple glow as he snapped his fingers together.
A ghostly, giant scorpion appeared in the middle of the room.
"Of course his familiar would be giant scorpion," Runs-With-Scissors sighed.
"Anything less and it'd be boring!" Violet-Fang rushed at the scorpion.
The necromancer was pissed. He charged in, not bothering to put his helmet back on.
"There we go!" Scissors said with great enthusiasm. "It was boring when you kept playing defense!"
The necromancer was a master with his weapon of choice. Despite being a drunken wreck, he was still able to parry or block every strike from Scissors' war-scythe. Though eventually the drunkard screwed up, stumbling on a thrust. Scissors saw her chance and took it, only to almost have her stomach gutted by the necromancer's war-axe. It was a ruse! He had stumbled on purpose to draw her in. And he had nearly caught her.
Scissors twirled her scythe around with great speed, trying to knock his weapons away. But soon she had to back away as the scorpion made a lunge for her.
"Violet! Deal with that thing!"
"I am!"
The necromancer and his familiar worked as a team, but so did the Argonians. The fight had become very serious. Everyone was rolling and dodging attacks while trying to slip in their own strikes. No one was able to land a blow… until Violet-Fang found herself a little too close to the necromancer.
Neither his halberd nor her battle-axe would be good at such close a range. So both of attacked with their ebony war-axes.
Her ebony war-axe connected with his. A loud metal twang sounded off. Violet-Fang was impressed. Her ebony war-axe was flawless; that his didn't shatter meant his weapon was of the same quality.
But Violet-Fang had had enough. Time for the end game—she tackled him. Simple, brutish, barbaric, and it worked.
She sat on his stomach, pinning him down. Scissors finally finished off the necromancer's familiar.
"Okay, you got me."
Violet-Fang moved for axe up for the killing blow.
"Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa! I give up, okay? Ya don't gotta kill me!"
"We were sent to kill."
"Ya don't gotta do that! What if I just, you know, left? Business will return to the inn and everything'll b-be normal. That sounds fair, doesn't it? I think it does."
"I want my money."
"Well, just say you k-killed me. How would they know you're lying? Y-you got rid of my skeletons already. I'll just leave and never return. They'll never know. U-unless they want you ta bring back my head or somethin'."
"How do we know you won't take revenge on the innkeeper?"
"Why would you care? You'd have your money."
Violet-Fang held her axe against his neck.
"Or… uh…uh… You could take me with you two? Yeah! That-at that, way you'd know I wasn't off seekin' revenge on no stupid innsleeper."
"I really don't feel like babysitting an alcoholic necromancer."
"Eh, why not?" Runs-With-Scissors shrugged.
"What?" Violet-Fang looked over at her companion in disbelief.
"Might be helpful to have a necromancer at our disposal. Think about it, Violet. He could summon up and army of skeletons for us whenever we wanted. And we could use him as a pack mule! I hate carrying stuff. You hate carrying stuff. He can carry the stuff! Or he could get his skeletons to do it. Think of all the loot we'd be able to loot. Maybe we'll find a few lutes, too."
"How do we know he won't kill us in our sleep?"
"Whoa, whoa, ladies. I'm n-not, no threat to you. You already kicked my ass once. Y-y-you let me live and it's all water under the bridge. B-besides-ides, traveling around with a pair of beautiful women actually sounds a lot better than hanging around this dump. And it's certainly better than being dead."
"Been reading the Lusty Argonian Maid, have you?" Runs-With-Scissors tilted her head to the side. "Argonians are not as loose and easy as that play makes us out to be."
"Whoa, jump to conclusions much? Maybe I legitimately find Argonian women attractive." He let out a huge burp. "Did y-you ever think of that, huh?"
Scissors and Violet looked at each other for a moment. This was certainly unexpected. They had expected to fight an evil menace to the death; instead they found an alcoholic that claimed to find Argonians attractive. It was definitely not like their typical day.
Violet-Fang then realized that being on top of the necromancer was probably doing something for him. So she got off him and roughly hoisted him up.
"What is your name, necromancer?" Violet-Fang demanded.
"Jakrelkill Valbanill, at your service. Provided you don't kill me."
"What are you even doing in Skyrim?" Runs-With-Scissors asked.
"Oh, t-there was some unpleasantness back in High Rock and I had to leave in a hurry." Valbanill clumsily struggled out of Violet-Fang's grip, nearly falling over in the process.
"Causing trouble in your own homeland?"
"No. But being a necromancer, I am an easy target when someone needs to be blamed, even when I had nothing to do with it. As is the case I find myself in now… I came to Skyrim. M-might as well. The ignorant Nords are distrustful of mages of all sorts. S-so I don't stand out quite so much. So, you two gonna kill me or what?"
"Can we keep him, please?" Scissors pleaded.
"Eh, alright." Violet crossed her arms. "But you gotta share some of that ale."
"Deal. What's mine is yours and all that mess. Just don't sell my weapons."
"Hurry up and pack up your stuff," Violet-Fang said. "We still need to return to Kynesgrove and collect your bounty."
"Huh?"
"Don't worry. I'll just show 'em your halberd and say you're dead."
"Will I get it back?"
"Yes," Violet groaned. "Stop worrying so much."
Scissors giggled. "This is gonna be fun. Now, where's the rest of your alcohol?"
Author's Note: So in Skyrim there are the little miscellaneous quests where the player is sent to go kill giants or a bandit leader or things like that. It made me wonder about a situation where the hero was sent to kill someone who seems bad (like a necromancer) but really hasn't done anything to deserve death. Necromancy isn't illegal in the Empire (with the exception of Morrowind), but necromancers have it pretty rough. A lot of people consider them all to be evil, and necromancers often have to resort to living in caves or in ruins. Granted, there are a lot of necromancers that are bad, but it seems rather trite to stereotype them all as evil.
