Hey. How long has it been? What?! A year already?! 0o
Yeah, so here I am again. If you've read the other parts of the story before, it'd be a good idea to read them again, as I added a few things. The first three chapters combined are still about the size of one, so it won't take you too long. Ya probably forgot what happened anyway...
Chapter 4
Balmora
16th Last Seed, 3E 437, 11:00 a.m.
Come late morning, the city of Balmora had transformed. Everyone on the western side of the island had come to the city to celebrate, and the streets choked with people. Their clamor clogged the air with the buzzing constant of many talking at once. Every so often a cry would rise above the din; someone trying to be heard out among the rest.
Once drab gray buildings were draped with colorful banners, their messages praising the great hero of Vvardenfell. Booths providing food, drinkand entertainment lined the streets. Various aromas drifted from those stalls; frying meat, roasting large exotic animals, simmering vegetables, and baking pastries. The delicious scents drew in passers-bys from the street in droves. Troubadours perched on every corner, singing praises of the Incarnate. Their lively festive tunes gave a cheerful atmosphere, lightening the hearts of the many workers who had taken the day off to celebrate. For them, Nerevarine day was a long awaited time of relaxation.
Gil stepped out of the South Wall, arm linked with Im-Ryu's. They paraded the streets together, the typical young couple, if only for a day. M'Rimba had generously given an allowance to the two for the special occasion: twenty gold each! It made Gil wonder how much money M'Rimba secretly kept from the group. With the gold lining their pockets, they liberally handed out coins to the peddlers in exchange for sweets and trinkets.
The couple eventually came across a small raised fighting ring with a great mass of people gathered around it. A Redguard man stood on a pedestal to the left of the arena, and was shouting over the chatter, "My offer still stands: a choice of these lovely prizes and one hundred gold for the one person who can best the fearsome Gloknar!" An ugly roar burst forth at the sound of the name, a noise that could only come from an Orc. Sure enough, a large, yellow skinned one stood triumphantly waving an axe in the center of the stage. Over to the right, Gil noticed a disoriented Nord man, sitting bloody in a chair surrounded by two healers and what looked to be his wife. The red haired woman was laughing uproariously at her husbands defeat.
"No one is brave enough? Will no one accept this challenge?" the Redguard called out again. Gil could not see the prizes that were previously mentioned, but the challenge beckoned his warrior spirit.
"I can best him!" he shouted back, scaly claw raised high. The crowd grew silent in a instant as all eyes turned to see who had spoken. They were shocked further to see only a lanky Argonian boy, no older than eighteen. The awkward stillness was broken by a throaty laugh, courtesy of Gloknar.
The announcer, however, was not fazed. "Ah, the rashness of youth! Well, if you're so sure of your skill, step up here and show us that you've got as much bite as your bark!"
Gil chuckled to himself, "Not rashness, just confidence in my skill." Gloknar's face had fallen into a dumbfounded stare, mouth agape, yellow eyes glazed in stupidity.
"This guy's not too bright, Gil. This should be easy," whispered Im-Ryu, speaking the truth as always.
"I'll be right back," he said as he stepped toward the ring. As he did so, the Redguard indicated a chest of various weapons for Gil to choose from. He selected a heavy spear, since he had not brought his own halberd. After testing the balance and finding it satisfactory, he slipped beneath the dividing ropes and into the ring. Gloknar stood on the opposite side, sneering at something he apparently found humorous.
Gil rolled his shoulders and steadied his breathing, preparing for the one on one match. He'd have no help from teammates today.
"Before you start, I'll just need to collect your entry fee," the Redguard said to him.
"You didn't say anything about that!" Gil sounded more surprised than he actually was.
"It's your fault for not hearin'. Cough up fifteen gold or leave."
Gil sighed. He had only sixteen left in his pocket, and he had planned to use it for other things at the festival. Reaching in, he pulled out fifteen gold and solemnly handed them over to the proprietor. Their cheerful clinking echoed on the Redguard's face as he added them to his own coin purse. The man jovially asked whether or not the contestant was ready to fight.
"Yeah," came the indifferent reply.
"Then begin!"
Gloknar did not hesitate. The ugly face twisted out a battle cry, and he charged forward, battle axe raised high over his head.
Such an awful stance, thought Gil, noting how wide open his chest was. With the superior range of a spear, a single well timed stab would end the battle— and the Orc's life. Yet Gil was not out for blood, and the spectators wanted a show. With this mindset, Gil neatly sidestepped the loping swing as it came down upon him. He followed the maneuver with a sharp rap with his spear butt on the Orc's backside. The awkward, unbalanced fighter fell forward, face connecting squarely with the mat.
The crowd was silent with awe. A mere child was toying with a large, intimidating warrior. Then all at once, everyone burst into laughter.
Gil took the time during this momentary ceasefire to wave at Im-Ryu. She was giggling to herself, eyes sparking with amusement.
Humiliated, the brute rose to his feet. His face was beat red with embarrassment. Gil could not help but pity him. A damaged pride hurt worse than any open wound.
Growling, Gloknar charged again, this time with a swing from the left. Gil decided to be flashy, if only for Im-Ryu, and jumped over the slash. With the blunt of his spear, he flung the axe away from his opponent. It went spinning through the air and landed with a harsh clang on the street behind the ring. Using the back end, he jabbed the Orc between the eyes. With a cry, he tumbled backwards, clutching the point of impact. His bottom struck against the mat, causing the ring to shake beneath Gil's feet.
"Umm, do I win yet?" said Gil, now facing the Redguard. The brown eyes held disbelief, and his mouth hung wide open. At once, the man clicked into action. Grabbing a sword from the nearby chest, he flung himself into the ring. The crowd yelled out in disapproval, claiming he was cheating, and that the Argonian had won. That did not stop the conman's blade from unleashing a wild barrage of swings aimed at Gil.
Gil had always hated things with swords. It was difficult to block a swing and be in position to counter using a spear. So he held a defensive stance, and waited for the man to tire.
Before the opportunity to switch to offense arose, the spear he was holding snapped in half. Gil looked at the pieces with a mixture of perturbance and despair. The swings would probably be too fast for him to dodge alone.
To make matters worse, the Orc had recovered and retrieved his axe. Now he was looking for revenge with a bloody passion. Only a loud roar announced his attack and gave Gil warning enough to roll away. The axman had been standing behind Gil's initial position and his blade struck where the Argonian's head was only seconds before.
Unarmed and outnumbered, Gil assessed his surroundings with a mind for retreat, when both advancing warriors stopped dead in their tracks. They had been paralyzed. Im-Ryu climbed calmly into the ring behind the two armed with a stout club. With two with well aimed thwacks, she smacked the two upside the head, knocking them unconscious. Their limp bodies sagged, but were held up by the paralysis spell.
"Alright there, Gil?" she asked.
"Better than ever with you here."
"You can be such a fool sometimes, showing off like that!"
Gil smiled sheepishly. He had wanted to win something for her, and he wanted to look good doing it. In the end, she needed to bail him out. Gil grimaced, upset with himself. A damaged pride hurt worse than any open wound.
A Dunmer man from the crowd approached the pair, carrying a large sack that jingled musically with the sound of money. "This belongs to you," he said, offering forward the bag. "We all saw you win, fair and square, even when they decided to cheat. So, you have the right to all the prizes and the money."
Gil accepted the bag, taking it with both hands. "Thank you,"
The Dark Elf nodded and turned away. The crowd was dispersing now. Two men, however, were striding toward Gil. One of them was Baeldir, who was beside himself with excitement. The other was an Imperial, clad in shiny silver armor and a robust violet cape— obviously somebody with high status in the army.
The unfamiliar man reached the Argonian first, and began talking in a fast, authoritative tone, "You two are some fighters. I've been looking for someone like you."
"What do you want from us?" Gil prodded warily. Baeldir had arrived behind the man, confusion apparent in his features.
"The legion has been looking for a group of independent warriors to assist them in a top secret mission. There's a fine reward, if you're interested."
This guy doesn't beat around the bush, thought Gil.
"Why can't the army handle it? Or ask the guilds? That would be easier than tracking down some freelancers," said Baeldir. The soldier spun around, aware of the Bosmer's presence for the first time.
"Are you with these two?" he asked.
Baeldir paused a minute, unsure of how to answer. Gil spoke for him, "Yeah. Yeah, he's with us."
"Right. Well, like I said, we need someone independent. Nonaligned."
"Like us," finished Im-Ryu in a low voice.
"Exactly. We're offering two thousand gold for the job. If you want it, come to Moonmoth Legion Fort tomorrow and ask for Commander Siddas. I'll give you the details there." With a subtle, yet meaningful flourish of his violet cape, he turned away toward the city's exit.
Once he had retreated out of earshot, Im-Ryu spoke, "I find this whole thing shady. If the legion needs someone independent, it must mean they don't want to get their own hands dirty."
"You think they're up to something illegal? Something they don't want the world to know about?" asked Gil.
"That, or they don't want word to get out they can't do their job right," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Um, hey guys?" Baeldir's high Wood Elf voice squeaked.
The Argonians snapped out of their thoughts and looked at the Bosmer. "Oh, Baeldir! Sorry you had to see all that," Gil said.
"No, it's alright, but did you really mean it when you said I'm with you two?" he asked tentatively.
"Of course! You're a friend," said Gil. Im-Ryu nodded her assurance. "At any rate, we should go find M'Rimba, see what he's up to."
"And show off your prize money! That was a great fight, by the way!" Baeldir cried cheerfully.
"Oh, thanks. It was nothing really— the guy had a raw steak for a brain," Gil said with a laugh.
"Literally…" commented Im-Ryu.
Well, there you go. Gee, what can you do now that you've read my story... hmmm... Oh! How about review it? ;)
Next chapter up hopefully by the end of the month. It's summer, so I have lots of time to write.
