The morning brought no good news.
Everyone in Whiterun knew the Dragonborn, but no one knew where her house was. They also hadn't seen her for weeks.
The Nord couple were apologetic, but Steve just shrugged. "It is fine. I shall keep looking."
"This one thinks that maybe you should travel with us, hmm?" Ri'saad said, wandering over. "The Khajiit go many places, and see many things. Perhaps we will meet up with the Dragonborn."
"Are you sure?" Steve asked. He liked the idea of company with the friendly cat people, but he also knew how most people freaked out about him wandering around. "I wouldn't want to make anything difficult for you."
"This one insists," Ri'saad replied. "I will send word to the other caravans and let them know to be on the look out for our Dragonborn friend."
"Thanks!" he exclaimed.
"We're not traveling with them," Alistair complained as Ri'saad left to talk to the other Khajiit nearby.
"Why not?"
"Khajiit are criminals!" the Altmer hissed.
Steve gave him a weird look. "So are you?"
"I am not!"
"You're a Thalmor agent," Steve replied slowly, hoping the elf would get it.
Alistair scoffed. "Ugh, the Thalmor are not criminals,"
"I don't think the Nords think so," Steve said thoughtfully.
Alistair glared at him. He just shrugged again.
Ri'saad came back over with bundles off cloths in his arms. "Here, you will look less scary in these."
And shoved the clothes into Alistair.
The Altmer stared at them for a moment, completely baffled.
"What?!" he cried. "I have to put on a disguise, but the Dremora gets to stay as is?"
One of the other Khajiit heard the yelling and looked over to nod and answer; "Oh yes, this one thinks that our Dremora friend will frighten off many bandits and troublemakers. However, a Thalmor will frighten off customers,"
Alistair glared at him, seething.
Steve gave his shoulder a friendly pat. "Sorry, but they do have a point. You stick out like an Aureal in a sea of Mazken."
Alistair muttered under his breath angrily. Something about being a highly regarded agent of the Thalmor reduced to something or other.
Steve ignored him and instead turned to Ri'saad. "I'm going to say goodbye to our friends, and then are we headed out?"
"Yes, we must take to the roads soon. We will wait for you." The cat man assured.
He still wasn't allowed in Whiterun, but he had no desire to go inside the city anyway. Kjord and Kjellfrid were outside the gates, and he wandered over to say goodbye.
"Sorry we couldn't find the Dragonborn," Kjellfrid said apologetically.
Steve shook his head, "No apology is needed. It was kind enough of you to look in the first place. Thank you for the assistance."
"If we see her, we'll tell her you are out and about," Kjord assured him.
Steve grinned. "Thanks!"
He pointed over his shoulder, "I'm going to travel with the cat-people now." He paused, trying to recall polite goodbyes that mortals used.
Mostly he was used to telling other Dremora not to do something stupid, or not to die a laughable death.
He wasn't sure that applied here.
"Er…um…stay safe." He settled on finally, satisfied with the way it sounded. "Goodbye."
"Goodbye," Kjellfrid said cheerfully, albeit cautiously.
Kjord nodded, "Aye, take care yourself, Dremora. And watch that elf…"
"He's fine," Steve assured him, touched by the sentiment all the same.
It was time to head back onto the road, whenever it led.
"Ugh, why is it so damn cold here," Alistair grumbled, looking extremely uncomfortable in his 'normal' clothing. He kept awkwardly tugging at it and brushing invisible dust off it.
"Stop fussing," Steve complained, glaring at him. "And shut up. You've been grumbling since we left and wriggling like a scuttler."
"A what?"
"A scuttler." Steve repeated, confused, and then shook his head. "Never mind."
"The roads of Skyrim are cold," one of the female Kahjiit said, glancing over her shoulder at them. "It is because of the strange things that fall from the sky. This…snow."
Alistair rolled his eyes. "Yes, obviously it's cold because of the snow! You dumb cat,"
Steve whacked him upside the head.
"Ow!" the Altmer exclaimed, rubbing the spot and glaring through watering eyes at the Dremora.
"What was that for?!" he demanded.
Steve scowled at him. "Don't talk to people like that."
The Khajiit lady chuckled, "This one thanks you, friend-Dremora. But his one has her own claws."
"Oh, okay." Steve said. "Next time I'll let you hit him."
Ri'saad called back to them that they were approaching a group on the road. He couldn't tell from here if they were friend or foe.
Steve knew the answer to that.
It was always foe.
At least, when he traveled with his mistress it was.
For once, however, it was merely a small group of fellow, non-Khajiit merchants. The two groups stopped for a moment to converse on the road conditions and dangers in either direction.
They seemed to talk for hours, trading stories and talking about cargo. Steve was anxious to be moving, but he'd never voice that out loud. After all, the Khajiit were doing him a favor.
As much as he hassled Alistair, it was cold, and he started shuffling his feet to keep his blood moving.
"Dremora," Alistair hissed after a few minutes.
His tone was quiet, guarded.
Steve glanced him, puzzled, and noticed how stiff he was. His fingers were wrapped around the hilt of the glass dagger he had and nodded slightly towards the merchants.
"I don't think those are merchants,"
"What?"
"What merchants carry bows and axes? Usually they favor swords."
"The Kahjiit have weapons,"
Alistair nodded, "Yes, swords! Just…they aren't acting right."
Steve frowned, wondering if the Altmer was being paranoid again when he noticed that they had stopped them on a section of road that went straight through some natural rock formations. It blocked sight lines.
"They have stopped us in a rather inconvenient spot." he admitted.
"So, what do we do?" Alistair asked, sounding worried.
Steve shrugged, "I'll get them to reveal their true colors, or I'll look like a fool. Stay here."
Alistair hissed something at him but has already striding forward to where Ri'saad was talking to the group's apparently leader.
Steve took a deep breath and yelled at the top of his lungs, in his most menacing voice; "Are you prepared for your death?!"
The "merchants" all pulled weapons, and three more appeared from over the ridge with bows trained on them.
Ri'saad smirked, "Ah, the old pretending to be merchants trick. This one has used that a time or two himself."
"We weren't going to wait, but then we saw…that," the leader said, nodding to Steve. "We were going to wait until the spell ran out."
"Foolish mortal," Steve intoned, unsheathing his weapon and lobbing off the bandit's head in one strike. "I am not bound by a spell!"
And then the battle started and he felt a little excited. He loved fighting. He was a Dremora after all!
And bandits were all the same.
The Khajiit were capable warriors, more then he expected them to be. After another bandit fell dead at his feet he realized he hadn't seen Alistair since this fight erupted. He glanced around and spotted the Altmer doing surprisingly well against two bandits. One was so laden with ice he could barely move, and the other was being pelted with alternating fire and shock spells as Alistair slowly walked backwards, maintaining his distance.
Typical Thalmor movements.
Seeing that the elf was taking well enough care of himself, Steve instead scanned the rest of the battle for anyone else that might need help.
It was wrapping up, but he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye and turned in time to see an archer was still up and had just notched an arrow.
"Look out!" he yelled, but the warning came too late.
The arrow struck the female Khajiit that wore no armor in her side, and she fell to her knees with a startled, hissing cry.
Angry, Steve whirled around to run up the hill and kill the female archer. But, a lightning bolt fried her to nothing but ash. Alistair scowled, and dropped his hand. He sheathed his dagger and looked around at all the dead bodies, making a face.
With the threat eliminated, the Khajiit hurried to their fallen friend. Ri'saad knelt down and pressed his hands agsinst her side. "Atahbah, breathe slowly."
She hissed, "Tell this one that someone killed that damn archer,"
"I got her," Alistair said, walking over slowly. "I don't know any healing spells other then to heal myself, I'm afraid…"
"This could have been much worse, had you not realized they were dangerous." Khayla said, standing once more. "We should not stay here. More can always arrive."
"We are close to Markarth," Ri'saad said. "Atahbah, can you make it to the city?"
The woman looked at him and seemed unsure. "Yes…"
Ma'randru-jo shook his head discreetly, as if he disagreed with her.
"I can carry her." Steve suggested. "She can't walk. It will be faster."
The other Khajiit exchanged a glance, and then got to work helping their friend stand. Khayla wrapped extra cloth around the wound to stop the bleeding before they hefted her onto Steve's back.
He bit down a grunt at the extra weight but straightened and nodded to others. They started to move out, and he worried they weren't quite close enough to the city.
Still, the Khajiit were resilient cat….people…things, and Steve was impressed that they continued to trudge onwards without compliant or concern.
"Er," he started, glancing as best he could at the Khajiit on his back. "Are you…okay?"
It was a stupid question, he knew, but what else was he supposed to ask?
The lady wheezed a chuckle. "This one has never been shot with an arrow before, and now she knows why the guards always talk of it. However, this one has often been sliced by swords. Atahbah will be fine. Thank you, Dremora-friend."
He nodded, glad she was in such good spirits.
Alistair did not look convinced of her condition. "You don't look like you'll make it to the city,"
Steve shot him an irritated look.
He might be socially clueless, but even he knew not to bring up someone dying to the person dying.
The Altmer noticed the look and shrugged helplessly.
"Oh, the Thalmor is worried?" Khayla mocked, swaying back and forth as she walked in a graceful mocking gesture.
"Hey," Alistair snapped. "We're supposed to be allies, the Dominion and Khajiit."
The Khajiit all started laughing, even Atahbah.
"That is a good one," Ri'saad chuckled. "Yes, we are allies, no?"
"….No?" Alistair said, bewildered. "I'm confused, but if you aren't all that keen, like others, on the alliance, that's not my problem."
"The problem is your tariffs." Ri'saad informed him. "How am I supposed to sell Moonsugar when you Thalmor skim so much profits off the top?!"
"Don't sell drugs!" Alistair replied. "Obviously."
The Kahjiit all started laughing again.
Steve was confused, but decided not to worry about it and kept an eye out for more trouble. After all, he didn't really know much about Nirn and it's weird problems.
Thalmor were bad.
Khajiit were fine but sold drugs.
Bandits were everywhere.
He didn't need to know much more about whatever they were talking about.
Before long, the looming spires and imposing walls of what Steve assumed were Markarth appeared before them.
"Oh!" he exclaimed. "This city! I've been here before."
The others ignored him.
The Khajiit got to work on their camp, and Khayla carefully helped Atahbah lie down. The poor Khajiiti lady looked sickly and was barely conscious.
"She's lost a lot of blood," Alistair said unhelpfully.
Khayla hissed, "This one knows! Make yourself useful, Thalmor ally, and go find a healer in Markarth."
"Me?" the elf said, pointing to himself.
Ma'randru-jo looked up from the tent he was pitching. "Yes you! Thalmor fool. We are not allowed in cities, and that Dremora probably isn't either. That leaves you,"
Steve glanced at him. "They do have a point,"
"As if I'm going to be welcomed in there?" Alistair retorted quietly.
Steve gestured to his outfit. "You don't look like a Thalmor."
"I'm still an Altmer."
"There used to be an Altmer here, I can't remember what happened to him…"
"If you mean Ondolemar," Alistair said, "I heard he got fired for getting drunk at some party and going insane. I have no idea where he ended up. Probably in a shallow grave somewhere."
Steve frowned and looked back to the injured Khajiit. "I doubt it's dangerous in the city, and besides, she needs our help."
Alistair hesitated, but finally heaved a sigh. "Fine."
Steve was honestly surprised he agreed.
"I'll be back soon." The elf said, adding with an eye roll; "Hopefully."
"We will be here, selling wares," Ma'randru-jo said.
"If they have coin!" Khayla added.
The Khajiit laughed again.
The cat people were weird.
It had been….well, honestly Steve didn't know how time worked in Nirn.
It felt like a long time since Alistair left, but he really had no idea.
Besides, even if he did know how time worked in this strange land, he would still be confused. Summoning spells only lasted so long, minutes at a time, and so anything longer than that felt…odd.
Still, despite their friend's failing condition, the Khajiit still tried to sell their wares to passers by and visitors from Markarth.
Steve was not so clueless as to miss the obvious Skooma trade that had happened twice, but he decided not to bring it up. They had been nothing but nice hosts for their uninvited guests. And it wasn't his problem if some mortals wanted to kill themselves faster.
One visitor, however, was dressed like a city guard, but didn't have the face of the city guards. Those metal faced men were odd ones, but Steve knew that a lot of Oblivion's tenants were strange and worrisome to people from Nirn, so he tried not to judge.
This man, however, seemed normal. So why he was choosing to dress like those guards, he didn't understand.
Maybe he respected them so much, he tried to copy them.
That made sense.
"I need a new weapon, mine is so dull it can barely cut butter." he explained. "I tried to get a new one from the blacksmith, but he said that the dumb apprentice they had ruined all the supplies, and I'd have to wait a week. I can't wait a week! What if we get attacked?"
He shrugged. "I mean, I mostly deal with petty thievery and drunkard brawls, but you never know. Damn dragons could swoop down at any minute. Besides, we really have to do something about these vampire attacks."
The Khajiit were over the man in seconds. It was amazing to see them try to sell things. They took it very seriously.
They talked about weapons, showed him some options and even let him try some out.
Steve was trying to remain inconspicuous.
"Uh, by the way," the man finally asked. He'd been casting glances at Steve for several minutes before piping up. "What's with…that,"
Ri'saad shrugged, "I cannot sell him. Mostly because this one does not know how. He is friend to Khajiit. So, he stays there."
"Huh." the man said.
Steve waved, "Hi, I'm Steve."
"Um….hi."
"You should ditch that clunky Warhammer and go for a two-handed sword," Steve advised. "You are in most danger from Forsworn here in Markarth, mistress always says. They are fast. I know. I'm fought them. Hard to catch and decapitate. But, they have no armor. Hit them, and they practically turn to mortal mush. Swords swing faster then axes or hammers, so you'd have a better chance to hit them."
The man blinked and then grinned, "Aye, that's not bad advice. Let me try one of those swords you have."
Steve watched him take a few, poor, swings.
"No, no," he said, shaking his hand and drawing his own blade. "Like this,"
The man watched him take a few swings and nodded, "I see. Wow, you make that look easy."
He turned back to the Khajiit. "I'll take two of these. That way, if I wreck one while practicing, it won't matter."
After he paid and left, Ri'saad turned slowly around with a very creepy grin on his furred face. "This one thinks you make very good sales-Dremora. You are welcome to travel with Khajiit anytime."
"Er…thanks?" Steve said, unsure.
He'd actually heard of Dremora saleskyn and always wondered how they actually managed to make sales. But mistress said she'd met a couple and that they were very funny and easy to bargain with, so who knew.
It was sunset when Alistair finally returned from the city. He seemed tried and more irritated then normal, but unharmed.
"Your back!" Steve greeted cheerfully. He'd actually missed the cranky elf, and Atahbah needed a healer sooner rather then later. She was starting to get delirious.
Alistair sighed as he approached, stomping muddy boots on the ground with each step. "Ugh, I would have back ages ago, but no,"
He rolled his eyes. "I tried to temple here, but it's a temple to Dibella. They wouldn't even let me inside. Then I tried to local priest of Arkay, but he said he wasn't ever leaving the city again and raved on about some situation with cannibals?
"Oh yeah, the cannibals!" Steve said, nodding. "I killed a few of them myself. He doesn't need to worry. We got them all."
Alistair gave him a weird look, but continued; "Fortunately, I happened upon someone also visiting the city who claimed she had heal minor injuries. Hopefully-"
Whatever else he was going to say was cut off by a bloodcurdling battle cry.
On instinct, Steve drew his blade and looked for an attacker. It must have been this 'healer' the Altmer had just mentioned, because a figure moved with speed from behind him and swung a weapon.
Steve narrowly parried it, and winced at the clung of metal on metal. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but another swing came his way.
The mace narrowly missed his head. "Die, Daedra!" his attacker screeched.
She was winding up for another attempt and he freed his sword, blocking the next barrage.
Metal clanged loudly again, echoing through the rocky pass.
"Why are you attacking me!" Steve snapped. He grunted as her mace hit his bladed edge once more.
"The suffering the Daedra cause will not go unpunished!"
"What does that mean?" he wondered, momentarily distracted.
In that moment, she changed tactics and feigned another blow, only to sweep low and slam into his left leg.
"Ow!" he exclaimed, hopping backwards from the surprise blow. The worst of the damage was blocked by his armor, but it still stung and would bruise.
In the brief reprieve as he backpedaled, Steve could finally get a good look at his assailant in the early morning light. She was dressed in the robes of a Vigilant of Stendarr.
"Ohhhhhhh," he muttered under his breath, gearings turning to make sense of the situation.
With a battle cry, she hefted her mace and pulled it back, over her shoulder, for another strike.
He tried to block once more, but the sheer force of the hit staggered him, leaving him open to another attack. He managed to turn slightly so that the mace only hit his shoulder.
"Stop attacking me!" Steve complained, refusing to hit back. The Vigilants, although ineffectual and misguided, weren't evil by any means. He wanted to avoid bloodshed, if possible.
She was having none of it, and continued to batter him with smaller, weaker strikes that kept him on guard.
"I'm not trying to do anything bad!" he argued through the flurry of movement.
"Lies!" she screamed.
Finally, a currant of purple shock magic curled around her legs, traveling upwards to the rest of her body.
She gave a small sound of discomfort and backed off a few steps. The worst of the magic was negated, likely by a spell.
Steve glanced over at Alistair, who was looking unsure and cautious.
"Don't hurt her," Steve instructed.
The Altmer looked at him like he had lost his mind. "What? She's trying to kill you, and likely me as well,"
"You!" the Vigilant said, pointing her mace at Alistair. "You have summoned this creature. You must die as well!"
"See?!" Alistair exclaimed, lunching an icy bolt at the woman.
The spell staggered her, but she was persistent. With a grunt she continued to walk forward, slowed by the ice but not deterred.
Steve hesitated, torn between going on the offensive and taking her out, or continuing to try and reason with her.
But what would he even say? He wasn't very good with words.
Before Alistair or him could make a move, Ri'saad appeared and beaned the woman over the head with a kettle.
Apparently, that was all it took to stop her rampage, because she swayed, dropped her mace, and crumpled to the ground.
Steve looked at the cat man and blinked.
"Hmmm….I suppose we still need a healer now…" Ri'saad mumbled.
Alistair and Steve exchanged a glance, looked at the knocked-out woman, and then looked once more back at each other.
They both shrugged.
I had to end this chapter here, because it was getting very long. Next chapter is going to be a fun one!
Hope everyone is enjoying this ridiculous story. I'm having fun writing it, and I kind of have an idea for a last story in this semi-triology...I might write it after this, we'll see. ;)
I really like the idea of Steve thinking the guards are like another type of mortal, and that those helmets are actually their faces XD I mean, he doesn't know any better, and we never DO see them without the masks, so...
Sorry for the lack of updates on all my stories. April has been a busy month with not a lot of time to myself to write. Hoping to get some more work done soon on this story, and my others.
Stay tuned!