Modryn stared at the piece of paper in his hands. It held the details to his first ever contract for the Fighters Guild. At first his euphoria had been so great that it was all he could do to stammer out his thanks and rush out the door before he burst with his excitement. But his happiness was short-lived as he looked at it for the first time.

He stared at the paper blankly. To him, the letters on the paper were meaningless, just marks on the paper. He had never learned to read really. How on earth was he supposed to complete his contract if he couldn't read the instructions to get there?

He glanced around nervously, but only a bored guard stood by the gate, totally uninterested in the nervous Dunmer. Modryn quickly stuffed the paper into his belt and hurried towards the main gate out of the city. Maybe he could find someone along the path or in the monastery he had passed that could help him. There was no way he was going back into the guild hall to ask Razconza. He had gotten the feeling that the old Redguard had a sour feeling toward his family, not that he could blame him, and toward the Dunmer people in general. Besides, he had been extremely offended being called "darky", something not many people called a Dunmer and lived to tell of it. Stubborn pride kept him away from the hall and rules kept him from getting revenge…for now.

He walked quickly down the gravel path, working up a story as he went to tell the monks why he couldn't read his contract. Each one sounded more and more feebly than the last and he finally gave up as he reached for the door handle, hoping that they wouldn't even ask and hoping, even more fervently, that the contract held some sensitive information that only he should know about.

"Who are you? You don't look as if you belong here." A rough voice asked him.

Modryn nearly jumped out of his skin as he whirled around. A Dunmer stood behind him, arms crossed across his chest. Moderyn was quick to notice the spiked club on his belt and had no doubt in his mind that this male knew how to use it.

"I…uh, I was wondering, uh…where the monks were." Moderyn's heart was racing in his chest. He was so startled that he couldn't give a straight answer.

"That still doesn't answer my question now, does it?" He asked crossly.

"My name is Modryn and I need assistance from the monks here." Moderyn said a bit more steadily this time.

"What do you need them for?"

Modryn was quickly getting over his surprise; instead he felt annoyance building in his chest. Unless this Dunmer was a monk, he had nothing more to do with him and did not appreciate being harassed like this.

"Look, I need their help and unless you can, either tell me where they are or move out of my way!" He all but shouted, including a curled lip of disgust as well. Quickly, the older Dunmer changed his attitude in the front of Modryn's aggressiveness.

"No need to get angry young one, it's my job to ask questions around here, you know. Enough of those braggart boys in the city come here to mark on the place or vandalize it. Enough to want one to retire early." The older male Dunmer let off his sentence muttering darkly to himself. Modryn waited. "Anyway, my name is Eronor; herder and general watchman here at Wyenon Priory. But exactly what do you want those silly monks for?"

"Well…I just needed the help of someone I didn't think would run and tell Razconza what I had asked." Modryn asked slowly. At the mention of Razconza's name, Eronor went off into another muttered tirade. The younger Dunmer got the impression that he wasn't the only one who had been on the receiving end of a humiliating insult. He waited a moment for Eronor to finish his muttering, feeling he had found a friend.

His feelings turned out to be correct as Eronor willingly helped him understand his contract and told the younger dark elf to come back when he had; He was in need of more training and not in the combat skills.

XxXxXx

Some part of him had told him that this was to be expected. He was, after all, new to the guild and hadn't yet proven himself to be reliable and capable. Yet it still annoyed him that his first contract involved ridding a small settlement off the Gold Road of pesky deer. Yes, deer.

Apparently, as he came into view of the tiny collection of houses and small farm plots and was quickly intercepted by the anxious villagers, they prided their gardens as the "best in Cyrodiil". Apparently the deer agreed and every night they would wreak havoc on the tender plants, sometimes chewing them down to the roots and even pulling those up. They wanted Modryn to either kill the deer or drive them off.

Modryn didn't really see the point. After all, there were more deer in these woods than there were people in the Empire and at some point in time, find this oasis to satisfy their bellies when they were sick and tired of simple grass. He couldn't drive them off, they would just as easily return, possibly with more deer, and if he killed them, though the supply of venison would be nice, more would simply return.

Still, he carried out the villagers request and waited by the little plots for the deer that night. Just as he expected, he gained a nice supply of fresh venison, a wonderful change from the dried beef he had been eating, a few skins and even a rack of antlers from the big buck that headed them. After taking care of the herd, Modryn headed over to the house were the villagers were anxiously waiting.

He was a little stupefied at how these people behaved over the news of the demise of the "deadly deer". They ran around the room in hysterical celebration, yelling and cheering. Modryn was careful about keeping his face expressionless though his red eyes gave away his feelings. As the man who he had spoken to earlier ran by, Modryn grabbed his arm and forced him to face him.

"Listen, I'm glad you are so…excited that the deer are gone, but you must realize that there will be more. I can't go out and kill all the deer, so you must protect your gardens a bit more." Modryn tried to reason with the man, speaking clearly and calmly.

"No, no, you don't understand!" the man cried in happy jubilation, "You showed those deer what's what and they won't return! Those gardens are ours and those deer were stealing. I don't think we need to do anything more. Thank you, thank you for saving our precious gardens!" And he took off without further ado, leaving a perplexed Modryn standing there with his jaw hanging open.

He shook off his astonishment with some difficulty and headed outside, eager to be rid of these insane people. He knew that people who lived isolated in a small settlement were practically a breed apart, but never this crazy. And all for a bunch of deer.

A nagging sense of duty kept Modryn from leaving immediately. He didn't want to get into any trouble when the deer inevitably came back. He also suspected that if (when) they came back, these crazy people would hunt him down for his head. So with a sigh, he began to poke around the few houses, looking for something to build a neat little fence around the gardens. Finding a sizeable pile of wood and some rope behind what he suspected was a carpenter's house, he dragged it all back to the gardens and spent the rest of the night building the fences while the villagers spent their night in celebration.

The next morning, sore and exhausted, Modryn left for Chorrol, pulling splinters out of his hands and gauntlets as he went, stopping for a few hours to sleep well away from the village. He hoped his next contract was a little more…sane that this last one. He wasn't sure he could put up with much more of that kind of nonsense.

XxXxXx

Razconza didn't seem too happy to see the Dunmer walk back into the guild hall. Though the contract had been easy, so easy that even a legless rat with no teeth could do it, he had been hoping to frustrate the Dunmer by sending him to the crazy-filled village. But Modryn seemed fine, a little tired, but perfectly happy.

With a grunt, Razconza slid Modryn's payment across the table and waved him off. When he didn't move, he snarled at him.

"What, you think you're gonna get a medal or something? You cleared a village of deer, hardly worth the money I just gave you. Get out of here, Dunmer."

"Actually, I wanted to know if you have another contract for me." Modryn said calmly, far too used to this sort of temper to even be fazed by it.

"This aint no factory were things keep popping out like a rat in a cellar. Come back in a week or so and maybe I'll have something for you. Now GET OUT!" Razconza shouted so loud that the windows rattled and an Imperial woman outside stopped short in alarm. Modryn dashed out like an electrified rabbit and disappeared. Razconza leaned back in his chair and smiled. A big voice usually helped to get others moving.

XxXxXx

Modryn didn't slow until he had gotten out of the city gates. He wasn't scared necessarily, but he hadn't felt like waiting around to see what the man would do if he had ignored the order to leave.

He settled into a leisurely walk as he headed for Wyenon Priory, wondering if Eronor would mind if he hung around for a while, seeing as he really didn't have anywhere to go. His hands began to ache again from the numerous splinters he hadn't been able to dig out yet but he ignored it. He would have plenty of time later.

XxXxXx

Eronor was rather surprised that the young Dunmer actually came back. He had thought that pride and ego would have kept him away otherwise but no, he was back. He noticed quickly that the Modryn's hands were still raw and bleeding and graciously spent the next hour and a half pulling splinters from his hands. Modryn didn't say a word the entire time; in fact he kept his face completely neutral, which surprised Eronor. The process had to hurt but the young one in front of him never let on that he felt it. After Eronor had finished, he began to make good of his promise and began to teach Modryn how to read.

XxXxXx TBC….

Author's note: damn deer…Also, I noticed that I had been spelling Modryn's name "Moderyn"…oops. I got that "E" from his surname mixed in with his first name. I apologize. R&R!! ENJOY!

-vanillathunder215