I opened the warped wooden door to Arrille's trade house, having already bathed in the river. My long hair hung annoyingly around my face, but at least it was clean. I didn't expect much out of this dilapidated old building and was wary of the second floor crashing down on me, but inside, the place was fairly neat.

A tall yellowish skinned Altmer or high elf lounged behind a counter, surrounded with goods on display. He noticed me and smiled, although it seemed partially forced. "Hello, welcome to Arrille's trade house. I buy and sell most things, but if it's a meal or a bed you're looking for, the inn is upstairs."

"Hello sir. I'm Han-lu. I apologize for my appearance. Perhaps you could sell me some nicer clothes."

"Of course of course." He stood up and went to his shelves. "My selection is fairly limited as far as clothing, but we can take a look." I tossed my head back to get my hair out of my eyes.

"I'm looking for something sturdy, but not too fancy."

"This looks your size." He picked out a few shirts, pants, and a few pieces of footwear. I ended up with a black sleeveless shirt which was practical for the warm climate, matching pants, and I splurged on a pair of dark leather shin boots. I put them in a pile on the counter.

"I'd also like to see your weapons."

Arrille raised an eyebrow. "Are you looking for a knife or a dagger?"

Remembering how my magic had become so limited, I sighed. "A knife and a sword if I can afford it."

Arrille clucked his tongue as he pulled a small variety of knives out of a drawer. They were mostly steel and polished often to keep the damp air from rusting them away. After haggling on price, I settled on a curved knife with a bone handle and was left with little gold to spare, far from enough to buy a sword. I counted out the coins and headed upstairs, hoping I'd have enough for a proper meal. It was well past noon and I was hungry. The sailors had given me a breakfast of porridge, but after being unconscious so long, I needed to bulk up.

There were a few people scattered around the cramped room. The bar was stuffed into a corner with three tables in the rest of the taproom. There were also two rooms for rent. I sat at the bar, ignoring the other customers. The barkeep was a Redguard woman and she asked what I wanted.

I scraped the rest of the gold from my bag, removing the letter to Caius to make sure I got it all. Five septims. "A hot meal please. Just water to drink." She took the money and went to get me a plate. Meanwhile, I picked up the envelope. It was sealed with the Emperor's crest. Shrugging, I broke the seal and looked at the contents. The letters were from the Cyrodiilic alphabet, but the message was coded and I couldn't read it.

I sighed and stuffed it back into the envelope. There was a candle next to me on the bar and I toyed with the idea of just burning the useless paper, but something kept me from doing it. My reverie was disturbed by a heavy-set Nord in smelly fur clothing. He took the seat next to me and said, "You look like you've seen better times."

That was an understatement. Back in Cyrodiil, I was swimming in gold. I did live a tough life, but I never wanted for anything. "Haven't we all," I replied nonchalantly, staring ahead.

The Nord huffed heartily. "Aye, that's true." After examining me for a moment he seemed to come to a decision. "If you're interested, I might have a way for you to make a little gold."

I turned to face him. "I'm interested."

The Nord leaned in and lowered his voice. "I've had some nasty luck at nine holes lately. It seems I'm not the only one either. There's this Wood elf named Fargoth who's been cleaning up every night for the last week."

This started to sound right up my alley. "You want to steal it?"

He nodded. "The thing is, he doesn't keep it at home. I already checked and I think he suspects me. If he thinks I'm watching, he'll never go to his hiding spot." He paused as the bartender put a plate in front of me. "Hey, Elone," yapped. "I'll take the same."

"Sure thing Hrisskar." As soon as her back was turned, Hrisskar lowered his voice again.

"So here's my plan. I organize a game of nine holes tonight and get wasted drunk so Fargoth feels comfortable taking his winnings to his hiding place. You go wait on the lighthouse. You can see everything from up there. Wait for him to drop his winnings and leave. Then we'll split what you find."

I tucked the envelope back into my painfully empty satchel. "I'm in."

A few hours later, I was sitting on a bench at the top of a building that was far more rickety that the trade house. I'd spent the day napping under the swamp trees and occasionally swatting at the mosquitoes. Even without money for a dinner, I was feeling much better. I'd grown accustomed to hunger, but the fresh air and warm sun had done me good. Even in the evening chill, I stayed close to the brazier at the top of the lighthouse and reveled in the warmth. I kept my back to the flame and watched the trade house. Usually, I might have had trouble staying awake, but I was already well rested.

Eventually, I saw the small form of the Wood elf exit the trade house and lean against the wall. He carried a satchel not unlike my own. I waited and watched him fill a pipe with tobacco and smoke.

"Come on, come on," I murmured. "Show me your money."

He was in no hurry and I stayed still for the better part of an hour. Fargoth kept glancing to the north, as if waiting for something. Eventually, a steady thudding sound became noticeable in the distance. I watched with growing anticipation as it got louder and louder. The shape of an enormous creature became visible in the light of the moon. It stood on eight legs like lodgepole pine trunks. Its body was covered in a thick shell, but as it got closer, I could see that the top had been hollowed out and there were people sitting cross legged inside.

It stopped outside town standing in the river next to a small cliff. Straining my eyes, I saw that there was a wooden platform built for the passengers to board and disembark. This added a new layer to the plan at hand.

A cold hand clutched my heart when I realized that Fargoth had disappeared. That had been his plan all along. Wait for the creature to distract any onlookers and slip away. I crouched by the weak wooden railing and scanned the area surrounding Seyda neen and I caught a movement by a bog at the base of the lighthouse.

Fargoth was sneaking around to the peninsula the lighthouse was on. I slowly made my way around the roof and watched him wade into a shallow bog to a tree stump. He took handfuls of gold from his bag and possibly other items and stored them in a hollowed-out section of the stump. I sat back and waited for him to cautiously return to his home before braving the smelly bog myself.

With my boots off, I found the log to hold nearly three hundred septims and a thin curved metal implement that I recognized as a lock pick. I put all the gold in my satchel and put the lock pick in my sock. Instead of returning to Hrisskar, I shot a casual salute at the trade house in farewell before making a beeline for the giant insect. A young dunmer man was already helping a handful of people cross a wooden plank to the creatures back.

I waited my turn and asked, "Where are you headed?"

"Balmora," he replied.

I paid the 15 septim fare and sat with the others. Before the driver took his seat, I took one last look at the build where Hrisskar was drinking. With a moan that shook the air, the creature, a silt strider as the driver had called it, lurched forward.

I shook my head. "There's a sucker born every minute and I just ripped off two of them."