Hey all you peoples, this is my first Elder scrolls story. Please understand Im not a lore freak and Skyrim was my first elder scrolls game, so the khajiit may not be as lore friendly as I'd like.
Vazerek trekked the pathway to Whiterun, hauling as much loot as he could carry. The cuts and bruises hed received from the bandits at Redoran's Retreat slowed him down a bit, but he still managed to lug down nearly seven hundred and fifty pounds of goods he had taken from the area.
As he walked up the trail to Whiterun, he noticed tents set up near one of the stone gates.
Oh, thank the gods. Ri' saad's here.
Ri' saad was probably the most sympathetic of Vazerek's money issues. He gave him a ten percent discount on all his wares, possibly because the Cathay-Raht warrior was the most loyal shopper, and the only Khajiit one around.
He spotted the trader sitting on a log by the fire with his other affiliates and set one of the three heavy packs from his shoulder to the ground by one of the tents. The audible clunking made them turn their heads.
Ri' saad jumped up from his seat to greet him, "Ah, Vazerek! I was afraid we wouldn't get to see you on this visit to Whiterun." He walked over to him, "Here, allow this one to help you with that. You must be exhausted having carried all of that weight." Va' Zarek knew he meant 'merchandise' but it was still a helpful offer.
Vazerek took a pack from his back and held it out for him by its leather strap. "I don't know, these bags are pretty heavy." He spoke very unusually for a khajiit because of his lesser experience with his own race.
"I insist. You must have worked hard to recover all of that." As Ri' saad took the bag with both hands, Vazerek allowed some of its weight to leave his grasp. The pawnbroker almost strained himself before he took back the weight. "My, my! You carry weight like that of a senche-raht. Are you influenced by the Steed Stone?"
Vazerek set down the other two bags and smirked, "I suppose I may as well be." One would likely imagine the red, lion like khajiit to be a werewolf in disguise, or a feline version of a giant-troll crossbreed. Despite the fact the only training he received was from combat only , he had the build of a juggernaut warrior, with muscles capable of literally sending bears flying across the battlefield and enabling him to outrun saber cats, despite being weighed down by a few hundred pounds of supplies. His lack of muscle atrophy was assumed to be a side effect of his parents decisions to use many alteration spells in their lifetime.
Ri' saad invited the new arrival to enjoy some dinner with his group to which Vazerek happily obliged. He soon found himself sitting amongst the smaller khajiit, enjoying some freshly cooked salmon and alto wine; deep in conversation with Ma'randru-jo. He had taken custom to calling him Dru-jo.
"You seem certainly capable of holding your liquor, Dru-jo," Vazerek said as the other downed the last of his third Alto Wine.
"The Dragonborn is correct. You should slow your drinking before you deplete us of it," Ri' saad agreed, taking another bite out of his chicken.
"Shut your mouth," he slurred, "I know we have…. Much more than this came from."
"Well then, if you're so sure of yourself," Vazerek stood up and walked over to one of his supply sacks, and retrieved a clear glass bottle with a liquid in it that glowed bright green like his eyes. He also grabbed a small shot glass as well before returning to his seat.
Khayla's ears perked in interest, "What is that?"
Vazerek smiled, holding up the bottle. "Argonian Absinthe." It was one of the rarest drinks around, being only available in Black Marsh markets. It was also a very mind altering drink, said to make you see into the realms of Oblivion.
Ri' saad's eyes widened, "Ah, you mean Sheggorath's Surprise."
"Exactly." Vazerek looked to the drunken feline across from him, "So, Dru-jo, think you can handle it?" He popped the cork of the bottle and filled one of the shot glasses, offering it to him.
He didn't even have to ask. Dru-jo stood up, almost losing his balance and walked over to Vazerek. Instead of taking the shot glass, he snatched the bottle from his hand. "Hic… This one can take any drink you can offer." He threw his head back and took a large swig, then fell backward, sprawling onto the ground.
Several seconds passed before he made any sign of remaining life. Khayla nudged him with the tip of her boot, then looked to the others with concern, "Will he be okay?"
Vazerek knelt down by Dru-jo and took the bottle from his hands, examining what little liquid remained in the bottle. Pinching Dru-jo's nose, his physical state became clear when he snorted and shook his head to free his breathing passage. "He's out for the night, but it looks like he's going to be seeing Falmer dancing with fairies for a while." With their competition cancelled, he poured the contents of the shot glass back into its original bottle and returned its cork
As the night continued, the Dragonborn was suddenly alerted of the time by a distant howl of a wolf. He stood up and stretched his back, "Thank you for the food, Ri' saad, but I should probably rent a room at a tavern before all of them get taken."
"Nonsense. It is already well into the night and the taverns are likely full. You may stay here with the caravan. Ri' Saad's group will be here until late tomorrow, and surely you could borrow a spare bedroll."
"As much as I'd like to, Ri' so, I don't want to impose…"
"Time spent with your own people would do you well," encouraged Khayla. She had a good point. Vazerek didn't even speak like most khajiit, instead using Imperial like vocabulary that lacked a Elsweyrian accent. He didn't even know much about his own culture because he was adopted and raised by an imperial family as a kitten. Even more so, his anatomy didn't even fully match that of normal Cathay- Raht, not that anyone in public would notice…
"Alright, Ri' saad. I'll stay for the night."
The night was far from quiet, with Dru-jo mumbling away in his hallucinating state about flying khajiit and talking moss. There was also the singing of the crickets and frogs, and at a certain point Vazerek's keen ears overheard two guards conversing about their travels in their younger days before they both somehow ended up taking arrows to the knee. It was like a bed time story like those he was told as a child, though less enthusiastic. It was at least boring enough to dull his mind into a sleep like state.
Vazerek was rudely awakened by the sudden sound of hooves beating against the ground. There was a conversation going on outside; Ri' Saad was talking to someone about… a party?
Vazerek poked his head out of the tent and saw two men on horseback wearing full sets of Dwemer Armor and had matching shields and spear length swords. There was one other horse without a rider. The assumed rider was speaking to Ri' saad, who was holding a envelope. She was a Bosmer, likely only a few years into her adulthood, and bared leather armor unlike the heavy plating of her acquaintances.
Vazerek rose from the tent, his well muscled figure making an intimidating sight. The four people suddenly shifted their heads toward him like he was a provoked giant.
"Good morning Vazerek. Did the night treat you well?"
"Well enough. What's going on?" No one had ever approached the caravan group with cavalry guards. It was rather unusual that these people would be so diverse from the nations citizens. The guards armor was in pristine condition, shining like waxed golden coins. Such presentation was rare even among nobles, so this group should be here for an important reason.
"It seems this one is rather popular among his people," He said smugly, " Ri' saad and his caravan group have been invited to a khajiit exclusive festivity."
Vazerek relaxed that the group wasn't a threat. "Oh. Does this mean you will be leaving early?"
"Im afraid that is true. But under current circumstances…" Ri' saad looked to the Bosmer girl, "Are guests welcome?" She responded with silence, her eyes locked on Vazerek. Ri' saad raised his voice a little, "Miss?"
She snapped her attention back to the trader and blushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, what were you asking, Sir?"
Ri' saad smirked. "Are guests welcome to join Ri' saad's group?"
The girl seemed flustered. "Um… Yes. With your approval. You will be held responsible for their actions, however."
He looked to Vazerek with a smile. "And what problems could the Dragonborn cause, of all people?"
Vazerek was cautious. "Who is this individual who is giving out invitations, exactly?"
The Bosmer girl spoke up shyly, "His name is Ri' zedah. He's the owner of the Bronze-Iron Estate." Her speech was quiet, dampened by her obvious intimidation caused by Vazerek.
"I see… Does he throw these parties often?"
She swallowed. "No."
The Dragonborn was skeptical, looking to Ri'saad unsurely, "I don't know… "
"A Dragonborn is not a common person to meet in this world, as unforgiving as it is. It is even less so for a Dragonborn to be a khajiit. Any celebration would be lucky to have such an honor to have that individual partake in the festivities."
Vazerek couldn't argue with such sage words. "Alright. I'll join you."
Those who think they have a better idea on how khajiit like Ri' saad speak, plz tell me. If you would like to toss your ideas at me at any time, go ahead as well. This will likely be part one of a mini series. This story will have a lot of mods from the steam and nexus in it. A prime example you just saw was the "spear length swords".
PLZ REVIEW OR I MAY DISCONTINUE THIS