Chapter 6: The Pride of Portneu (Part 1)
"Father, where do we go when we die?" Khinashi asks, resting her head against the cool grass she lays on.
Father looks lost in thought at the question, looking to the sky as the sunset begins and the moons fade into view. We decided to rest a bit before walking back home after a long day of magic training, and this was always the best time to ask him questions.
"What a strange question, Khinashi. Why do you ask?"
"This one read a book about how some races have an afterlife, like how the Nords go to a place called Sovngarde, the Redguards go to the Far Shores, and some followers of certain gods go to different places. Where do we Khajiit go to when we die?"
"Elsewhere." Father says, smiling.
"Well yeah, but where else?" This one says with a hint of frustration at the non-answer.
"Elsewhere." He repeats, acting like this one should know what he means.
"What? We go to somewhere in Elsweyr?" This one is completely confused as to what he means. Father laughs and pats this one on the shoulder.
"Do you know why our land is called Elsweyr, Khinashi?"
"Because someone thought it would be funny?"
"Hmm. Perhaps, but not quite. You know the land used to be divided, right? The northern desert lands were known as Anequina, and the southern rain forests, where we live, was called-"
"Pelletine. Yes Father, this one does read your books, you know...Keirgo of Anequina and Eshita of Pelletine married and combined their kingdoms and called the land Elsweyr."
"Yes, but do you know why they chose that name?"
"No, why? The book never said that part."
"In our old tongue of Ta'agra, there was once an old proverb Khajiit used, mostly as a sarcastic remark to show their distaste for their current state of affairs. It was...after translation, something along the lines of how, 'A perfect society is always found elsewhere.' A way of saying that, where ever you go, no place is perfect. It just so happened to be that Keirgo and Eshita were quite fond of proverbs."
"So you mean they named it 'Elsweyr' after that? As in to mean it would become a perfect society?"
"Yes, they were quite optimistic about their union. Although, their people at the time didn't seem to share that optimism, considering their union was immediately followed with civil war..."
"Hah, that is quite funny, this one never knew that. But...what does that have to do with Khinashi's question at all? Where do we go when we die, Father?"
"Elsewhere."
"Urgh, can you just stop-wait...this one sees now. So you mean to say we go somewhere that is perfect, then?"
"Hah, that's what the Clan Mothers would tell you, yes. Really it's more like a dream-like place that changes based on your perception – and the Clan Mothers believe that perception is based on what you want to see - it's shared by many but looks different to most. Some have said it's a place with endless sands made out of Moon Sugar in their visions, others have seen it as a rain forest of tall trees made out of Moon Sugar stalks, and that all of the water of the lakes and rivers are made of sweet milk. Whatever the magic of the place allows for a great deal of things to happen, they even say if you know how, you can change your form to become any type of Khajiit at will. It all sounds like something someone came up with during a bad sugar trip, right?"
"It sounds like a paradise for Ma'krin. Does this place have a name, then?"
"Well, that depends - it's been a matter of debate actually, Khinashi. Depending on who you believe, it could go by many names – names we use for other things - or none at all. No one really knows where it is or what it's called, but for the purpose of referring to the concept of the afterlife itself, most Khajiit have taken to calling it "Llesw'er" out of the same vein of humour that our land was named from."
"So we go to Llesw'er then, that is what this one will call it too, when she grows up and goes off on adventures to fight villains like you did. 'See you in Llesw'er, scum!' Khinashi will say valiantly as she casts her spells."
Father laughs again at this. "I'd hope you wouldn't be fighting anyone that would have the privilege of going there or you might be the villain, Khinashi. It's not a place for all Khajiit, only those who have earned it in life, or so the Clan Mothers say."
"Hmm, will you go there when you...die, Father?" The words were a bit hard to say, for this one did not like to think of her father being dead, but if she knew he would be going to a paradise, then it would help to know.
Father frowns, as if thinking back on his life, what he has done and accomplished, what he is proud of, and what he regrets.
"There's no way to tell for sure until it's time, Khinashi, but...I would like to think so."
"Will this one be able to talk to you from here to there?"
"It's true some have said they are able to speak to spirits who have passed on under the right circumstances, but never for idle chat, and it's not exactly an easy thing to accomplish."
"How do you do it, Father? This one wants to know so...just in case, yes?"
"Ah, don't worry about that, Khinashi. Even if it should ever come to pass, well, spirits have ways of looking back down to Nirni to watch over the living. I'll always be there for you, even if you can't see or hear me, always remember that. Still, how about we talk about something else and I'll just do my best to avoid letting it come to that, deal?"
"Deal."
This one opens her eyes from her dream, it was not really a dream but a memory long ago, one she never wanted to have to recall back to think of.
Khinashi sighs deeply, she hopes Father made it to Llesw'er, or where ever our honored dead go. He deserves it...but he did not deserve to die.
Khinashi feels wet fur all about her eyelids, she must have been crying in her sleep. The Moon Sugar wax about her body has dried up and become crusty, and...there is a strange feeling about her mouth? This one moves her head up to see her surroundings, and feels her muzzle. Upon doing so, unbearable pain is sent through her body and she jumps to her feet, hopping and skipping in circles from the pain inside her mouth that stings like a hive of bees stinging rapidly over and over. This one notices Ma'krin looking at her without much surprise, as if he is used to her acting crazy, while he chews on some fish.
Something is missing in her mouth, as if something should be there but no longer is, and whatever it is, is the cause of all the pain.
This one quickly draws up thoughts, magic she learned to ease pain. Yes, healing hands it was called, she had cast the spell once, Father had taught her, she had read the book – but it has been so long...How does she do it?
Khinashi struggles against the pain, closes her eyes and thinks deeply back to her lessons. Yes, this one remembers now. She casts the spell for a second – and the pain in her mouth stops...but now she can no longer feel her mouth at all. This one tries moving her jaw up and down but can only do so partially, and now she feels an extreme cold feeling.
Khinashi looks to her hands and notices the glow from it is blue, not the bright yellow she remembered healing spells to look like.
That was Frostbite she casted...Gah! Frostbite is not useful for anything. This one could not cast magic to save her life.
Nor to save Father's...
Khinashi has learned nothing, and now he is not here to teach her.
This one falls to the ground again and weeps. Why did you do this, Ra-Zara'chi? Why? The Mane was your brother, and Father...he still respected you.
How could this one have left without killing him for what he did, gah! Perhaps he did in the fire, this one can only hope, but knows that to be in vain. He was always one step ahead, he would have escaped... Dark Moons take you, Ra-Zara'chi.
At least she messed up his hand, he may not even be able to use it anymore, but that will be the least of his worries when she finds him again...Ah, it makes sense now...her teeth.
Perhaps this one lost a tooth last night from biting so deep into his hand, she can remember it piercing bone. Khinashi rises a hand to her mouth and confirms her suspicion. She no longer has her front left fang.
Just yesterday she was carving rind from sugar stalks with that tooth, now she will never be able to again for the rest of her life. A tooth for a hand however, perhaps she got the better end of the bargain, no? It could be worse.
It...could be worse, this one thinks. Yes, perhaps it could. She is still alive, and she is...where is she? And the others- where is everyone?
For once this one takes a proper look at her surroundings. She is in a clearing in the forest, she cannot see the sun or time of day for the canopy is too dense here. Ma'krin is nearby eating some fish as he has been since she woke up, and there is a puddle of blood nearby where her mouth was when she was sleeping. She remembers Jahirr bringing her here last night...
"Where is Jahirr, Ma'krin?"
Ma'krin looks up at this one, annoyed for interrupting his meal. He points his head over to a lake in the distance.
"Thanks...And, Ma'krin...Do you know of what happened last night? At the Mane's palace?"
Ma'krin holds his head down, and his eyes seem to start welling up with tears, he covers his eyes with his paws, and grunts. He does not want to talk about it. He knows.
Then Jahirr must know too, for he would have probably explained it to him. Ah, such a strange thing, how the non-speaking Khajiit are still able to communicate complete conversations with each other through complex body and sign language. It is nearly impossible to lie to a four walker, for they can see the smallest nuances to dispel their speaker's true intentions, and the older ones are believed to almost be able to read minds from their talent. Not many speaking Khajiit know their silent language, only those whom have very close bonds with them – for it takes many decades for those with voices to learn, and yet, even an infant Alfiq, Pahmar or Senche can learn it within their first years of life.
This one weeps at the thought...Father was a master at their silent language, due to his time traveling with Jahirr. Father always had a dream to make it become a common practice for all Khajiit to learn, so that communication with them would be more fluent, and allow the four walkers to be more involved in social communities and do things like buy and sell things in marketplaces. Father and Jahirr once taught it at the Temple of Jone and Jode, but not many speaking Khajiit could be bothered to learn it, settling instead for the limited direct question way of communication. To this one's eternal sadness, even Khinashi only knows a little. Not as much as she should.
This one shakes her head from her distraction and runs off to the lake, those thoughts are unimportant right now. Beyond some trees this one sees Jahirr laying next to the water where seeds drop from the branches above into the lake. He repetitively smacks his tail on the ground close to the lake.
"Jahirr, what are you-" this one says as she approaches, with a bit of difficulty from her frozen mouth. Khinashi's words are cut off by a fish jumping out of the water in that moment, as Jahirr smacks it onto the land with his paws, and then ends its dehydrated suffering. He pushes it toward this one and looks Khinashi in the eyes. He expects this one to take it.
"Oh, no thanks Jahirr, this one can wait to eat later when we go back home. We are going home now, yes? Back to the others? We cannot stay out here in the-"
Jahirr interrupts this one with a loud, authoritative, roar in denial in Khinashi's question.
"What? But what about Ra-Zara'chi? We cannot just let him get away with-!"
Jahirr interrupts again, this time with a more warning, low-toned growl, which meant not to keep arguing with him.
"Fine. Where are we going then?"
Jahirr shakes his head and scratches at the ground.
"Sorry. Do you know where you are taking us, then?"
Jahirr nods his head.
Well, that is perhaps the best answer she will get. Jahirr is not one for idle conversation, always focused on the task at hand, which, in this case, this one guesses is watching over Khinashi and Ma'krin while he guides us to where ever he is planning to. This one has no doubt now that he knows more than Khinashi about what happened last night, Father would have told him everything.
At least with the lake here, this one can finally wash off all the Moon Sugar wax, and Jahirr appears to be collecting breakfast for us... What of the others, though? J'shabi, Ma'ketra? Smallpaws? What of Mother, and even Jo'banja? The thought that something bad could have happened to them cannot escape her thoughts. Until she knows for sure, no amount of fish Jahirr catches will ease that hollow feeling from her stomach.
"Woah! Ma'ketra, slow dow-wah-uh!" I shout, doing a flip over Ma'ketra's head as I land with my back on the ground, straight in the mud.
"Ugh, look what you did! I just washed this yesterday before we left, it's my favorite outfit, too."
I stand up and try to wipe off some of the mud. Some of it comes out, but in some areas it stained, it'll have to be washed. Again.
As I look up I see Smallpaws covering his mouth with his paw, stifling back a snort of a sort – a laugh for an Alfiq. It's hard to read Ma'ketra's expression but she looks guilty, almost.
"Oh, come on. This was your idea wasn't it, Smallpaws?"
He only responds with a smile to me. Ma'ketra turns to him and growls, and they look to each other and do some sort of body and face sign language. It's always so difficult to work out what they're saying to each other without words. The result of their conversation ends with Ma'ketra walking up to me with her head down, in an apologetic manner.
"Fine, I can tell it was Smallpaws's idea but I think I'll walk the rest of the way now, you two are always so hyper when you wake up. Besides, we're close to Portneu View now, we're almost out of the valley."
I turn around and continue walking forward, jumping over some of the deeper mud puddles to avoid getting any dirtier. I really should have thought about borrowing some boots for this, foot wraps alone are terrible for traveling in these conditions. At least the worst of the mud only got on the dark red parts of my clothes instead of the pink fabrics. I'll just have to live with that until we get back to Torval after finding Dagi, where ever he is. By now the others back home will have found my note. If they send anyone for us they'll know where to look, and if not that's just as well, that they'll know where we are is the important part. It wouldn't help anyone to just say we left with no direction or reason as to why.
As we reach the end of the valley we see some houses around the edges, with what looks like a dock built up into it – to allow for transport between Torval and Portneu View with ease during the summer. The rest of the village must just be beyond the bend in the road ahead, behind the wall of trees.
Suddenly, a person dashes out from the cluster of trees and bushes, and instinct readies myself. The person is looking back, and running silently, away from the village, and only after a few seconds turns to face us ahead. He's an Ohmes as well, except one who, like most Ohmes, and sometimes even Tojays, opted to tattoo or paint their faces to look more feline.
I scoff at the thought to myself. If it didn't look so strange to paint my nose black and to have fake whiskers drawn on my cheeks I would have done so too, but even I have to draw the line somewhere with Khajiit traditions.
He runs up to approach us.
"Hey, what are you three doing? You are going the wrong way! Turn around, if you are wise, you do not want to go to Portneu – not now, it is not safe!"
The Ohmes steps to run off again but I grab him by the neck of his shawl before he can, to get his attention.
"Hey, wait! What do you mean it's 'not safe'? A lot of travelers passed through it just fine on the way to the festival in Torval last night."
"Last night? Yesterday? Yes. Now? No, no it is not safe. They came in the morning, just hours ago. This one must go to Torval and call for help." The Ohmes sounds frightened, but I can't let him leave without knowing more.
"Who did? What's happening in Portneu? Slow down and just tell me."
"Renrija dariita! Bandits and thieves who call themselves the Tenmar Claws came into town and took over. They offer us their 'protection' in exchange for payment but protection from what? No thief worth their salt would steal anything from us, we are simple Khajiit – farmers who live on what we grow, with small trade throughout Elsweyr to those who pass through – but these thieves threaten to kill us if we do not pay, and so our Clan Mother is left with no choice. We are not fighters, and cannot stand up to them, and so this one snuck away to call for aid from Torval to rid of them. If you have any sense you will stay away, they do not take kindly to travelers – the last one who came through, a Dagi boy, is now being held hostage and is not allowed to leave."
"Wait...A Dagi boy? Did he have a strange fur pattern – calico coloured?"
"Perhaps? This one does not know. He was wearing northern clothes and a cowl covered his face, Khajiit did not stay around any longer, for his presence distracted them enough for this one to escape. Now this one must go, they may have noticed Khajiit's absence and look for him soon!"
The Ohmes pulls away from my grasp and runs as fast as he can down the path to Torval. It will be many hours before he arrives there on his own feet, and then some more to return with help. If that Dagi is the Dagi we know, we can't just leave him to the mercy of bandits and thieves.
I look down to Ma'ketra and Smallpaws.
"You heard him, that could be Dagi in there who was caught by those bandits! We have to try and help him."
I start walking forward again with a quickened pace, but the sound of whimpering makes me stop and turn around. Ma'ketra hasn't moved, and Smallpaws looks confused at her.
"What is it, Ma'ketra? Is something wrong?"
Ma'ketra shakes her head, then shrugs. She walks around in a circle and turns her head to face the other way.
"What? You mean you don't want to go into Portneu?"
Ma'ketra shakes her head. Smallpaws leaps off of Ma'ketra and turns to face her, after some more sign language Paws walks up to stand by me.
"Oh, don't be such a scaredy-Khajiit, Ma'ketra, if we stick together I'm sure we'll be fine. You can outrun any bandit any day I'm sure, even if some of them are Pahmar or Senche, or have Senche-Tigers with them. You were always the fastest Khajiit in Torval."
Ma'ketra groans again and plants her feet into the ground, showing she's not going to change her mind.
"Fine, you don't have to come with us if you don't want to, but I'm not going to leave Dagi by himself if he's in danger."
Smallpaws meowed with a sarcastic tone as he rolls his eyes.
"What? I'm sure it's him, Paws. You are coming with me, right?"
To this, Paws began running forward on the path to Portneu, and so I run after to catch up. I look back to Ma'ketra one more time, who looks sad and regretful. I call out for her to stay safe, and then turn back to Smallpaws ahead.
This one ducks her head beneath the twigs and bushes that threaten to take out her eyes as Jahirr rides ever onward, and Ma'krin struggles to keep up, for Ma'krin may be very strong from all that he eats, but he is not normally fast unless he is in a sugar fit or a bad temper from waking up. We are on the main road north of Torval, Khinashi can tell, and yet Jahirr swings sporadically and wildly close to the edges where the trees are dense, to check for clues toward where ever his destination is. He has sniffed the ground, tasted leaves from bushes and looked for footprints.
Khinashi is not good at tracking, but she knows enough about it from her studies of the Pahmar, the greatest hunting form of Khajiit, and knows this to be all a methodological procedure for finding someone, not something or somewhere. Where ever we are going, it is to find someone, but who? And why? This one has not a clue to who it may be, for everyone else would be at home in Torval, would they not?
As Smallpaws and I walk into the village, it quickly becomes clear that the Ohmes wasn't kidding. Everyone wears an expression of fear and anxiety on their faces, except the bandits themselves.
There aren't many of the bandits, only half a dozen that I can see outside. Two standing by the door that appears to be the village Inn, a couple wandering about the village, and two more talking to an elegantly dressed Suthay female, most likely the Clan Mother. The villagers outnumber them many times, but I can tell none of them seem to know anything about combat, nor do they have any weapons. They wear the simple garbs of Tenmar Khajiit, like me and most in Torval, but the bandits are wearing northern desert clothes...and some Senche-tiger furs lined about for more protection. Bah, the sight of it makes me want to puke, is their own fur not enough?
The houses here are just a bit above the ground, instead of high up on platform bridges like in Torval, aside from the port just outside of the village near the entrance to the valley. All the rain must slide down, so they don't have to worry so much about floods, despite still being in the Tenmar forest.
Aside from the Inn, there's about a dozen or so other houses lay about, with a lot of Fields and crops growing in them, even some fruit trees. The entire village exists in an unnatural clearing, but the villagers don't seem to have cleared it in any recent generations, so it must be pretty old.
As we go deeper into the village, I notice one of the bandits stepping near the path I had entered from, and it didn't take much to figure out he meant he wouldn't be letting me back out of it. But that isn't important right now.
"Hey, do you know if you saw what colour fur the Dagi boy had that the bandits captured? Or where they have him?" I say to one of the villagers who is working on one of their crop fields.
The elderly Cathay Khajiit looks up to me with sadness in his face, and darts quickly over to various bandits to see if he's being watched, and then looks down again.
"Hey, come on it's important, just tell me if you've seen a calico coloured Dagi boy."
The farmer turns away and walks on the far side of the field to continue his harvesting. Clearly he wasn't going to be any help.
I look down to Smallpaws and shake my head, but just then the argument between whom I guess is the Clan Mother, and some of the bandits becomes louder.
I look over and see another bandit climbing out of an open window from a house and joining the other two. The Clan Mother looks distressed and desperate, pleading them about something, but the bandits turn away and walk into the Inn past the two bandits guarding the door. That must be where they set up their headquarters for the village's 'protection' payment.
If anyone knows much about what's going on, or about the Dagi boy they captured, it must be the Clan Mother. As Smallpaws and I approach her we hear the sounds of sobbing, and I make sure to walk slowly so as to not scare her. Maybe it's better to wait until she takes notice of us before saying anything.
"This one said she needs more time before coming to a decision! Can you not understand that? Oh- you do not look like bandits, but Dra'muzi does not recognize you, you are travelers then yes? You have picked a bad time to come to this village."
"Sort of, yes, we came from Torval-"
"Ah, from Torval? Bright moons! This one did not expect help to arrive so soon when S'dran said he would escape to call for aid. Although, really it has not been long...and this one did not expect the aid to be in the form of a young Ohmes girl and an Alfiq. There are more of you, yes?"
"Umm...sorry, but no, just us, and we didn't come from Torval to help with the bandits, we didn't even know about them until we almost got here, I guess that was S'dran we saw on the way. We're here looking for a Calico coloured Dagi boy, we know a Dagi is being held captive by the bandits here, does he match that description?"
"Oh, so you are not here to help then... Yes, the Dagi boy had strangely coloured fur, the boy came to town before the bandits did and was asking about some people, and when the bandits arrived he thought to try and help by attempting to persuade their leader to leave, but before he could even say a word they had him tied up. Apparently some people are looking for him, and the bandits hope to exchange him for ransom."
Hmm, people looking for Dagi? Well, we are, but if the bandits are from the north, then it can't have been any of us from Torval that told them about him. Who else would be looking for him?
"Do you know where he's being held at?"
"In the Inn, where their leader is – the long house in the center of the village. You will not be able to get in there, though, the two bandits by the door do not let us in, that is where most of the bandits reside. Be wise, child, this one does not know your relation to this Dagi, but he is not worth throwing your life away for."
"But he's my friend, I'm not going to let him be sold as ransom to someone, I don't even know who they are. I have to try and do something..."
As I finished my sentence, my eyes drifted away, I had called him a friend, even though I only knew him for a short time, he might not even remember my name. Why is it that I cared so much about protecting him? So what if he might share a semblance of my past, is that enough to warrant risking my life? But then again, it would be nice to know someone who might understand...
I walk away and notice Smallpaws looking up at me as if wondering if I know what I'm doing, in truth, I don't, but there has to be a way past those bandits. Hmph, if only Khinashi were here, I know she'd be able to think of something...
No. I can do this without her help.
Staring at the two bandits by the door makes me realize how weak they seem, I could probably take them in a fight if it weren't for their weapons. They don't particularly look at all focused on their job, more a bit bored and resting against the wall of the house. Maybe I could convince them their leader was expecting me? Maybe they won't even care if I walk in, if I just look like I'm meant to be there.
Going for the more natural, forceful look, I focus on the door and walk steadily toward it, not looking at either of the bandits. If I do they would suspect something.
It works.
Up until I reach the stairs near the door, at which point one of them shoves me back against the ground.
"No one is allowed inside, boss's orders." One of the bandits say.
"Uh, the boss is expecting me, actually. I have some important things to talk about with him, so if you'll just let me-"
I get shoved back again against the ground upon trying to walk through the door again.
"Nice try, but you are not getting in. Now shove off."
Hmm, perhaps an even more forceful approach is necessary...
"Hey! I'll have you know I'm a personal friend of your leader, and that he himself invited me inside for a local variety of special drinks and delicacies, and that he would be very upset if his good friend was being kept outside by two of his guards, he might even fire you for it."
"Oh really? Then you would know his name then at least, no?"
"Uh, well, we always just used nicknames, see-"
The two guards, apparently now annoyed at my fruitless attempts to trick them, look to each other and simultaneously put their hands at their scabbards.
"Wait!" The Clan Mother's voice roars out, as she runs in between me and the bandit guards.
"This one apologizes for this girl's behaviour, she will keep her in check so that she does not bother you anymore. This does not have to come to bloodshed."
"See to it that it does not, then." One of the bandits reply.
The Clan Mother pulls me away from the guards, far enough that we're out of earshot.
"You must be very brave or very foolish to walk up to them and talk to them like that. Either or it does not matter, you are too hard-headed, but then...perhaps that is just what we need right now, but not by itself. If this one cannot convince you to stay out of their way, then perhaps we could help each other out."
"I'm not going to sit around and let Dagi be at the mercy of those bandits."
"Of course, this one can see that now, but what exactly were you planning to do once – and if – you got passed those bandit guards, hmm?"
"Well, I would have...I don't know actually, I would have thought of something, though."
"So you would have walked right into a den of bandits with no plan whatsoever then...This one is leaning towards foolishness...There is no way to avoid conflict if you intend to free the Dagi, but do you know how to fight? You do not even have a weapon."
"Where I come from, we don't need weapons."
"Hmm, a student of the dance, then? This one guesses. Mages do not tend to be so...direct. Perhaps that will be enough."
"Be enough?"
"If your determination is of any indication of your skill then this one thinks you could just very well defeat their leader. These bandits are so low in their hierarchy that they must attack a poor, defenceless village – do not mistake this for Dra'muzi insulting their lack of honor, that is to be expected – but quite plainly, most bandits would see our village as not worth the trouble, and would seek more lucrative investments of time. Still, this one doubts you could take all of them on at the same time, and not with their weapons. So then we just have to make sure they do not use them and that you only fight their leader."
"Right...Well that doesn't sound so easy anymore, if I just up and attacked their leader the rest would probably jump in, and they'd have no reason to not use weapons."
"So you see wisdom at last. It can be done, however, if you approach the situation with subtly and wit."
"I think this is the part where you come in, then..."
"Indeed. None here, save for you, have the skill to challenge them, but without the wit, you would never get the chance. How long have you been in Elsweyr? For this one can tell you were not raised here by your way of speaking."
"I'm not an elf-! Sorry...Habit. Only three years, why?"
"This one does not know what bandits may be like in other lands, but she has heard tales. Here in Elsweyr however, most Khajiit renrija are...different. Like most bandits they do not have a sense of honor- but more importantly, they do not have a sense of pride."
"And why is that important to know?"
"Outside of Elsweyr, most vagabonds you may come across would fight to the death, or seek revenge if their friend or ally is killed, or be provoked with insults to their person or family relations. Things are different here in Elsweyr, they are much more practical. They seek only personal gain, and avoid death at all costs, for death means they lose all they own. They do not care about anything else. Nothing. They do not care if you insult them or their mother, their only incentive to fight is the end reward. If a fight is turning ugly and they are not sure the risk is worth the reward any longer, they will flee, even if their best friend is lying dead or in trouble nearby."
"Okay, I can see how that might be helpful to know, but-"
"This one is not finished. There is an exception to this, sort of, and that is the leaders of these bandit gangs. They have a sense of pride, and to an extent, honor, but only as far as its practical use goes- and that is to instill fear and respect from their underlings, for if they cannot do that, then there is nothing stopping any of the bandits from turning on their leader if it means they would get more reward out of it. If a leader shows weakness, he will not be a leader for much longer."
"Hmm, so if I challenge the leader, he would have to accept or risk looking weak in front of his gang, which could be disastrous for him."
"Quite right, but it is not so simple. If you were to challenge him normally he would just have his bandits make quick work of you, for the bandits would see the practicality in this and see that as a strength in mind, not a weakness in skill. You have to give him reason to want to fight you himself, in one on one combat, with no weapons. Then there is also the matter of getting past the door guards to issue such a challenge in the first place."
"And you lost me again...how do I do all of that?"
"Listen and this one will tell you. You too Alfiq, for you may be able to help with this as well. It will take skill, patience, and some luck, but we may be able to make it out of this landing on our feet like Khajiit are supposed to."