Mazuli awoke to the light of the morning sun. She stretched out in a sitting position, limbs flexing, and she yawned loudly before bringing all five extremities to rest. She let out a groan as her right ankle squished down into the pile of poop in the center of the stable, bare foot and all. She had slept so soundly next to Derogan that she'd forgotten her choice of rest. Several khajiit at their camp nearby watched as the argonian crawled out of the stall, grumbling angrily and gathering her dress in her arms. She looked absolutely horrible, cached in mud, and her entire foot ankle-deep in horse manure.

The river was much too cold for a swim, so Mazuli had to settle for scrubbing her foot knee-deep in the water. By the time she her claws were clean, her feet were numb and her legs shook. She took a few steps up onto the bank, feeling miserable and cold, when she saw Derogan approach. "T-took y-your time!" she hissed, stamping her feet on the ground, though it did little to warm her up.

"Sorry...I was a little busy getting you something this morning." Derogan presented the irate girl with what looked like some kind of uniform. Unfamiliar with Cyrodiilic clothing, she grasped the shoulders and let it trail downwards. It was lined with thick fur, especially around the throat and sleeves. It actually came in four pieces, a torso and pants, and matching boots and a fur hat. Mazuli stared at the light brown cloth of the torso, held together by a bright orange sash. It was a far cry from the dainty dress she now wore, but Mazuli didn't care. She promptly ripped the dress from her body and took the new clothing with a squeal. Derogan stared in shock for a brief moment and quickly turned around to see the khajiit caravan watching in amusement.

Derogan turned very slowly when his shoulder was tapped. Half expecting her to be naked still, he was relieved to see that she was at least wearing the top and the pants. He looked her up and down as her instructed with a gesture, smiling cheekily. She stood in her bare feet still, the boots stacked with the fur hat. "No shoes, huh?"

Mazuli made a face and wiggled the claws that were her toes. "Boots are nice, but not Saxhleel boots. Keep claws in view, cushion the calves and shins. Hat is nice, but..." she gestured to the sharp horns adoring her eyebrows. "Mustn't ruin clothes. You keep them. Hat would look good on you."

The redguard chuckled and ran a hand over his low haircut, feeling along the fist-sized bun at the back. "No, not really my style." Mazuli watched as he gathered the boots and hat and set them on one of the benches overlooking the lake. "I'm sure someone will be happy to find free stuff." He turned to find his new comrade standing before him, hands clasped at her back, looking almost shy.

"Thank you."

"No problem. I had some coin saved up, and your dress needed replacing."

"Not what she meant. Thank you, for last night. You kept Mazuli very warm."

"Oh." Feeling a little hot under the collar, Derogan cleared his throat and made sure the khajiit nearby were minding their own business. "Well of course. I didn't think it was right, you sleeping alone outside. Couldn't just leave you there."

Satisfied, Mazuli nodded and turned to face Goldenglow Estate. Having made sure he was not being watched by feline eyes, Derogan took this opportunity to look Mazuli over. The fur clothing was a tighter fit than her loose, flowing dress. She was very thin and tiny, and it made him think that she was probably younger than he first thought, either in her late or mid teens, far too young to act the way she did towards the opposite sex. Then again, he was a bit of a prude, so what did he know? And that's when he saw it - Mazuli's rump was in full view. He'd forgotten about her tail. She'd slid the pants under her cheeks so that her tail wouldn't be caught inside.

Twenty frustrating minutes later, the two were on the road to Ivarstead. It had been a bit embarrassing, whittling a hole in Mazuli's pants with his sword for her scaly tail while she sat bare-assed on the dock steps leading to the vacant Honeyside. Twice he had to make the hole bigger because the width of her tail at the base was rather thick. By the end, the poor leggings had taken a beating and would need to be replaced rather soon.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Mazuli nudged him to get his attention. "Derogan, Mazuli is curious. Wasn't a single redguard she's ever met that knows magic. Why not?"

Thankful for a subject other than her bare skin, he dove right in. "That's actually a pretty good question. Redguard culture is centered around the physical arts, a bit like the nords do. Magic is normally shunned, while the physical arts of warfare are given the utmost importance. Me?" he said when Mazuli inclined her head in his direction. "Well...I'm a bit out of the norm. When I was a boy, younger still than you, I watched the men and women in my village, day in and day out, practicing the same. Smith the same, train the same. No magic, no magic schools, no magical adventures. It was so...ordinary.

My parents lived in High Rock for a time and learned quite a bit about magic. They returned to Riverview and soon had me. They raised me to know magic like they did, though in secret. When I was old enough, they would send me to Taneth, a giant city that was located many miles away, to learn our more traditional ways. I would spend most of the year there, learning how to sail, how to fight, even a bit of the merchant's trade. During the summer I would return home, where I would brush up on my magic skills."

The argonian smiled, a genuine look of curiosity in her eyes. "What is Riverview like?"

"The redguards take pride in their architecture, even the smaller villages. The buildings in my home were constructed of polished marble, the roads cobbled stone. There's a bit of shade everwhere in town, as the palm trees we planted are plenty. Most homes are made of brick, maybe clay, a far cry from the crude stone of Skyrim."

"And Taneth?"

Derogan laughed and held a hand over his heart as he recalled the details. "Taneth is...massive. It has twisting, winding streets, many of the buildings are made of white stone, emblazoned with gold and scarlett colors. There are buildings with parlors, open rooms with thin curtains on all sides, tiny waterfalls dropping from the tops of buildings that flow into large fountains. There are narrow walkways through the city, winding their way up and down through the streets like a giant serpent. And the city has a giant harbor where hundreds of ships dock and sail from every single day."

Mazuli smiled happily. She could've easily listened to more, but something else was on her mind. "Hm...So Hammerfell does not like magic. You learn in secret...you learn healing from parents?"

"I picked up some basic scratch-healing techniques, but I didn't really study restoration until I left Hammerfell and travelled to Cyrodiil. Wasn't always safe on the roads, though…" Derogan trailed off. "The Great War was just petering out, leaving behind scars and making new ones. The Thalmor wasn't all that interested in sharing land space, and occupying Hammerfell seemed to be their next project after banning the worship of Talos."

"Stupid Thalmor," Mazuli agreed.

"...I was on the Black Road, returning to Hammerfell, when I heard the news. Couriers were spreading out and informing anyone that hadn't heard." Mazuli frowned as the look in her comrade's eyes darkened. "Many cities had been besieged by those damned elves. Riverview was one of them. My parents had been slaughtered and my home was destroyed. The cowards hit many of the smaller cities, the ones that lacked a proper army and couldn't defend themselves well. I've been wandering since."

"No...goals? No revenge?"

"I've been brought up with the knowledge that we as a people will have to face the Thalmor at one point or another. It's just...known. They have been my enemies before I was born, and they will be my enemy after I'm gone. There's no point in rushing to my death."

"What did you do?"

"I couldn't return home, the Thalmor were busy trying to make a point. I turned back around and headed for Bruma. Years ago, in Taneth, I'd read a book mentioning the Blades. They fought dragons and other beasts, and were considered one of the mightiest groups in Tamriel. After the dragons came and went, the Blades assigned themselves as protectors of the Emperor, and fought against...less obvious threats, the Thalmor included."

"I learned of Cloud Ruler Temple, the headquarters of the Blades, just a few miles north and nestled on Cyrodiil's side of the Jerrals. They were an ancient order and hadn't been heard of since the Great War. I wasn't sure what I would find, but if they were still around and could instruct me further, then I'd have a better chance against the Thalmor. And, hopefully, some powerful allies."

"And you find them?"

Derogan frowned and shook his head. "No. There was nothing there but a ruined temple and ghosts."

"Ghosts? You mean...metaphorical?"

"That would've been preferable. There were three of them, stuck in an infinite loop reliving their last moments alive, their home being ransacked by the Thalmor. I don't know how long they'd been stuck like that, but I was able to put them to rest. With no allies and no further leads, I was beginning to worry about myself. The Thalmor were spreading themselves out, looking for traitors, the ones responsible for disrupting their progress during the Great War. Ragnar himself was later tried for war crimes and executed. Nobody even knows what happened to his family after that."

Mazuli frowned unhappily. She apparently didn't approve of the possibility of her new friend being hunted. "Why the Thalmor look for you? No reason to…"

Derogan laughed humorlessly. "I'm a redguard, and worse than that, I was a young redguard, impressionable, and no doubt brought up to hate the Thalmor. Not that those are reasons they would kill someone, but if I met them at that point, I'm pretty sure I would've rushed to my death trying to avenge my family and my friends. I needed to keep a low profile, so I headed to Chorrol, mostly for it's defensive position, and it wasn't easily assailable. Once there, I put my all into training. It's where I learned of the paladin and cleric roles, their skills, fighting techniques, and that spell I healed your back with. I think I was at it for...ten years."

Mazuli looked down at her hands, idly counting on her fingers for a moment. "How old are you?" she finally asked, returning her gaze to him.

"Thirty one…"

"Hee. You are old. Mazuli is only seventeen," she said, smiling and clasping her hands behind her.

Seventeen? Derogan mused quietly. He'd thought she was at least twenty. In a sudden change of subject, Mazuli dashed close, then proceeded to encircle him, peering at his equipment. "What do you use? Must have ancient relics, yes?"

Derogan tried not to feel self-conscious as the girl trailed around him. "Not really." Mazuli stepped back as he made to show her his sword, a beautiful obsidian-handled sword. The blade was a bright jade green, serrated along the blade.

"...Pretty," she mused as she reached out to press her hand against the flat of the blade.

"It's a glass sword. Not the most sturdy of materials, to be honest, but that's why I use my shield more." He put his sword back to rest, and held his shield out for her. It, too, was glass, the steel infrastructure winding through the glass in ornate decorations. The face of the shield was faded and had quite a few scratches, while the sword looked brand new.

"Perhaps it is time for new shield?" Mazuli joked after inspecting the shield.

"It's been time to look for a new shield for a long time," he responded thoughtfully. "This shield has been with me for a quite a while."

"Help!"

The pair turned to see a woman running down the road towards them. She was dressed in rags, dirty and disheveled, and was bare foot. "Oh thank goodness! I've been wandering alone for so long," she said as she approached, stooping to catch her breath. "I thought I'd never see another soul again…"

Mazuli looked from the woman to Derogan, eyes narrowed. She did not trust this situation, but Derogan wanted to know what happened. "Easy does it. What happened? Where did you come from?"

"I was kidnapped by these bandits weeks ago. They locked me up in the towers near Mistwatch. I managed to pick the lock and slip out while the guard slept, but now I'm completely lost. Can you help me, please?"

Derogan took out his map, eyeing The Rift slowly. He hadn't heard of Mistwatch. "Well, Riften is back this way," he said, gesturing back the way he and Mazuli had come. "It's about three miles back. Do you need an escort?"

"Oh, thank you," the woman said happily, shaking her head. "But I should be fine now that you've shown me the way. But those bandits have to be stopped! They're at Mistwatch." She approached, and took the bit of charcoal that Derogan offered her, making a spot on the map some ten or twelve miles off. "If you can stop them, you'll be heroes! Thank you again, and farewell."

Mazuli watched her go for a moment, arms crossed. "Mazuli is not a hero," she told him with a sly smirk.

"Neither am I," he told her. "But I do enjoy a good bandit tussle."

"Let us go tussle some bandits, then."