Bloodtide Rising Part 2 - Knight

by Tyranidlord

After months of traveling, Kaius and Viconia's successes against the forces of the Prince of Destruction have resulted in Knighthoods in the Order of the White Stallion. However, in the background of the approaching war against Oblivion, Umaril the Unfeathered is returning and while they may be Knights, they are certainly not holy enough to wield the relics of the Crusader...

21. Into the Black

We left the following morning before the sun had even reached its zenith. Weebam-Na and Bejeen had made arrangements for our passage via the rivers on board one of the several trading vessels. These ships used the Panther River to reach the more inland settlements and so for the first five days we did little but wander the decks of the massive river carrack while trying to keep out of the way of the crew. Like many of the ships that headed north past Leyawiin, these ships were designed for use in the potentially shallower waters of the Niben and as such did not have the size of their larger, ocean going counterparts. While advantageous, these river vessels were unable to traverse the oceans and were mostly limited to sailing very close to the coasts, or in the case of the Sparrow; restrict themselves to a single trading run from Leyawiin to Greenspring in the heart of Blackmarsh.

From all accounts it was a profitable run for the captain and crew despite the fact that the ship was technically sailing up river and against the wind. My boots had always tasted soil, and maritime matters were a mystery to me but it was impossible not to notice that one of the crew, an Altmer by the name of Raveumaire was a skilled Alteration mage. It was her role in ensuring that the sails, no matter the direction or strength were always filled with the wind. It was a potentially boring role, but one that paid exceptionally well for one of her talents.

The first days of our journey into the depths of the Blackwood were almost overwhelmingly calm, peaceful and in my opinion exceedingly dull. So used to the freedom and ability to choose my own path and wander the lands, being stuck on board a single ship less than fifty metres in length was excruciating. Even more so by our new companions.

Alexi was bar far the most welcome of the group, and surprisingly I found myself with a considerable amount in common with Weebam-Na and Bejeen. As Tamriel's premier swordsman and a pair of hunters with backgrounds and experiences similar to my own respectively, we spent a considerable amount of time chatting or sparring in Alexi's case. There was no possible way short of full vampiric transformation that would allow me to contend with his overwhelming skill, and the more we practiced the more I struggled to decide who would have been greater; Alexi, or Amiel Lannus.

Other than meals or during our own practices I saw little of Viconia. She busied herself with exploring and learning as much as she could about the ship and how it sailed and the life of those on board. Her and Raveumaire spent a lot of time together whenever the mage wasn't busy with her duties discussing the finer points of magicka and enchantments, and on one very brief occasion I witnessed the Altmer allowing Viconia to weave the magicka infusing the sails herself. Both of us shared the similar passion for learning and understanding, but Viconia's tastes were in the arts of Magicka while mine were more direct and focussed on the art of the sword.

Our other companions were not as easy going, nor were they as sociable as the rest of us. Falid would stalk the decks of the ship in full plate and for the most part he spent a considerable amount of his waking hours training, mediating or praying. He was concerning for our expedition but in a different way to the others as his appetite was almost equal to four others combined. However, his enormous strength lifted a considerable amount of our concern as he was more than equal to the task for any heavy lifting. Especially when we witnessed him training below decks using a ballast stone that weighed more than I did. Although it was difficult to decide what was more impressive, the fact that he was picking up the stone and conducting lifting repetitions with it or the fact that Mazoga was soon seen taking part as well.

Mazoga was more an enigma that most of the others. Her unusual name aside, there was no doubting her determination, drive and especially strength as she out muscled all of us by a considerable margin with the exception of Falid. Again, the only way that I could contend with either of them was if I was fully transformed and against the likes of Falid I knew it wouldn't have been as simple as it should have been against mortals. Both he and Mazoga were brutes of individuals in term of raw strength, but both knew their limitations which made them dangerous. Falid's enormous two meter greatsword had the utter advantage of reach and when wielded by an expert like himself allowed him to contend with the likes of Alexi's skill. As for Mazoga, her mace was simplistically brutal but when wielded by someone with her physical prowess, meant that even shields and the best armour would amount to nothing. One hit from any weapon, whether it be a simple wooden club or her flanged orichcalum mace would shatter bones, pulp flesh and crush armour into scrap.

There was one individual that we didn't see for most of the journey. Several times we had even suspected that Detane had simply skipped ship at one of the several minor river towns we docked with along the journey but just as we thought he was truly gone, he would simply reappear. The rest of us had signs of gaining familiarity with one another but if anything, Detane was going out of his way to ignore or otherwise distant himself from the rest of us. He spent most of his time in the quarters that had been allocated to him, door closed and silent and other than appearing for meals he would only appear on deck once or twice a day at most.

It was very quickly obvious that he was certainly no slouch in combat. One of the nights that the ship lay at anchor, Viconia and I found ourselves on deck and witnessing Detane going through some of his own training. For those few minutes that he practiced with his rapier, both Viconia and I were muttering between ourselves at his level of skill. The way that he had drawn his blade within seconds of meeting Mazoga had proven that he was extremely quick and had a high degree of control, but after that short time that he practiced before he realised he was being watched we had both realised that he was easily our equals. His armour may have been excruciatingly poor but his ability with the sword was immaculate.

After a brief stay at Rockguard where we bid our farewells from the Sparrow and its crew and disembarked for the final time, we began our true journey. While relatively close to the border between Cyrodiil and Blackmarsh, the region we were throwing ourselves into was among the least populated and remote within the Empire. Little in the way of resources worth journeying through the marshes and swamps or simply too difficult to traverse, the whole region was void of major settlements and only the odd town or village could be located within its depths.

In my mind, the clearest fact to the worth or value of the region lay in the fact that no two maps had the border located in the same place. Depending on the year, century or simply by the personal opinions of the cartographers the borders shifted and moved. In other regions this was more than enough excuse for regions or entire provinces to go to war, and there had been more than one time that the Legion had to step in between the great Dunmer houses when one map or another showed the border shifted as much as a hundred metres in either direction. Here instead there was the opposite, where neither the authorities from Cyrodiil or Blackmarsh really cared too much, and those who chose to live there could do so outside of those who would otherwise be considered their rulers.

Sir Henrik had truly chosen the site for the Fortress protecting the Shield of the Crusader well. Rarely travelled, sparsely populated, remote and entirely lacking in exploration and governance, it was the perfect concealment. Only through the notes and rough maps that Viconia had sketched during the time at the priory while I was recovering did we have much chance at all. The directions were mostly vague, but between his directions and Weebam-Na and Bejeen's local knowledge we knew the best places to look.

We were forced to outright buy a collection of canoe-like boats after the original owner refused to hire them out to those he considered 'dead-men-walking' for considering journeying into the Blackwood. After replenishing our supplies and loading our tiny vessels, we began the arduous journey away from civilisation. Splitting ourselves into pairs we all had to paddle down the steams and smaller tributaries that threaded from marsh pockets to mangroves, to flooded rainforests and minor lakes. It was brutal, back breaking work and after the first day I simply crawled into my bedding and slept like the dead until morning. So used to marching and walking for hours on end, there was no way that I could have been prepared for paddling for half a day or more at a time, especially in the noticeably hotter, humid climate that made up the majority of the region.

Every evening it rained and throughout the day when the sun was visible through the canopy the temperature rose dramatically and left the air so thick with moisture that we almost needed our blades to cut a passage. Three hundred kilometres to the west and the north west and in our rough direction of travel back towards Cyrodiil, the temperature Niben beckoned with its sunny days and pleasant nights. My own experience with Vvardenfell was one of cold and snow, of dry heat in the summers and storms consisting of sleet, hail and snow. The Blackwood in comparison was hot, sticky and leaving more than just myself with sweat drenching every scrap of clothing we wore as we left the majority of our armour and equipment in the bottom of our boats.

Despite the climate that I and most of the others found immensely disagreeable, there was a strange beauty to the marshlands. Strange flowers grew from the trunks and roots of the hundreds of trees that grew whether they were in water or not, and everywhere life seemed to swarm and multiply around us. This was the home of reptiles and insects and everywhere they could be seen moving through the air and water almost totally oblivious to the collection of humanoids moving through their home. Dragonflies the size of ravens buzzed through the air, humming across the surface of the water almost faster than the eye could see and resting upon the dozens of roots jutting from the still surface in a riot of colours and shapes.

What little beauty could be found was soon drowned by the hostile environment of the region. Clouds of biting flies and other varieties of insects swarmed around us, burrowing into exposed flesh and sucking blood at every available opportunity. Under the guidance of Weebam-Na and Bejeen, we quickly learned how to keep the various parasites at bay by smearing a layer of tree sap taken from specific trees across our skin and despite the foulness of the substance, it was infinitely better than the dozens of bites and stings that covered us by the time we all had found enough of the plants. We were all warned not to enter the water if we could help it, as many of the things dwelling within it were dangerous to non-Argonians. Several times we saw the dark looming shapes of oversized creatures and carnivorous beasts inimical to our presence dwelling beneath the surface of the water and it was more than one occasion that we were left feeling uneasy as a shadow moved through the muddy waters.

Through the regions of solid ground, we saw shapes of prowling jungle cats; dark furred beasts of size and ferocity that ensured that several times we remained in our canoes rather than stopping to rest and stretch our legs. In other places we came across flat patches of seemingly solid ground, but Weebam-Na showed us that looks were deceiving by throwing a rock the size of my fist into the soil and watching how it sank into the thick muck under the layers of dead leaves.

Even the plants in Black Marsh were deadly to outsiders, as we were told that the further south we headed the more dangerous and outrageous species existed where plants could prey upon the natives and could even reportedly move under their own will. I watched at one point where a large area of ground had been consumed under a layer of creepers and thick green vines with flowers the size of shields. At Bejeen's urgings we kept a considerable distance from this portion of the shore, but I still managed to see one of the flowers move with a sudden shocking speed and close up around the wriggling form of a small mammal who wandered too close.

Despite the dangers, I was strangely surprised to find that the area wasn't as thinly populated as I had imagined. In the region we were searching dozens of Argonian tribes could be found and every couple of days we would come across one. I certainly wasn't surprised to hear that it was possible that many were so remote that they had never even heard of the Empire, nor had met any non-Argonians in generations. Further into Blackmarsh itself there were hundreds, if not thousands of smaller tribes, some perhaps only a dozen or more in comparison to the larger settlements such that were a match of any other city within Tamriel. It also wasn't just Argonians who made Black Marsh their home. Clans of cannibalistic bog ogres waged war on all those who crossed their paths, and it was from this dark land where the migrating clans of Goblins had swarmed into eastern Cyrodiil and reached as far as Skingrad in their exodus. Even those looking for riches and other commodities could be found plying the northern swamps. Dumner slavers constantly braved the Marsh's dangers to bring back their captives to Morrowind and Vvardenfell despite the ban that had been enforced since the Nerevarine's return, as did smugglers of all descriptions attempting to get their goods into Cyrodiil and dodge the Tax Agents.

Despite all of this, we found three villages scattered about the marshes. Each were relatively tiny, one little more than a pair of families huddling together in their wooden stilt-houses, and the others closer in approximation to towns. Each, for the most part allowed us the opportunities to rest and recover, especially how one night we had spent sleeping in shifts in the bottom of our canoes due to the utter lack of stable, safe soil to camp on. After that restless attempt of sleep none of us were looking forward to do the same again.

By noon on the fifth day we had turned our course slightly north by Weebam-Na's suggestion, as he told us that both he and Bejeen had been tracking signs of Argonian habitation the further we travelled. We continued onwards where the trees began to thin out slightly, and I saw how Weebam-Na was becoming more and more wary the further we paddled along the small waterway. Carefully, and with silence falling over our small collection of canoes we moved ever closer together, keeping our eyes open and our hands ready to drop our paddles and grasp weapons and shields if required.

"Is everything all right 'Bam?" I asked him, calling him by his nickname that he acquired from Alexi.

"So far," His voice was a low hiss as he turned his head from side to side, tasting the air and blinking slowly and steadily with both his inner and outer eyelids. "The village is nearby. Just a little up further upriver."

"Like the others?" I too was looking about for potential ambush, keeping one eye on the encroaching foliage and the other on my bow in its protective covering.

"Similar in size unless I'm mistaken. There are tribal signs marked along some of the trees on our left," With a head turned he flashed his fang filled mouth. "and one of their sentries have been following us for the past two hundred metres."

I frowned, looking around and carefully drawing upon the vampire in me to detect where the Argonian happened to be hiding. There was nothing that gave me any hint that we were being followed, but I knew better than to question Weebam-Na's instincts and skills. I had learned very quickly that while my vampiric senses were incredible, I had significant difficultly detecting anything or anyone under the surface of the water.

The portion where the village was located was in a section where the forests, dense marshes and the trees that grew out into the waters had been cleared away over the course of generations. While there was solid ground scattered about everywhere, this particular portion was by far the largest unbroken section for dozens of kilometres around. In addition to being the only stable section of ground, it was also surrounded by natural defences in the way of exceedingly thick vegetation. I would have easily bet that the forests around the village had been cultivated by the locals as a curtain wall of sorts. Even this section of the river had been chosen as anyone approaching by river would be bottlenecked and stymied in any attempts to attack or raid it.

As for the village itself, it was little more than a small collection of mud mounds, barely even huts at all with only the barest amount of marsh tree wood for roofs and supporting. Unlike some of the other villages and settlements we had come across, this particular village was more traditional in design and architecture. Each of the mud-brick huts were built close together with no more than a few metres separating them and their neighbours. There were only two or three dozen at the most clustered about the highest portion of their jungle surrounded island where a single tree spread its branches high.

"Well. This is interesting."

"Bam?" As we slowly made our way towards the nearest portion of solid ground, I could feel the sensation of eyes upon my flesh.

"Well, this village has its own Hist. That is unusual for its size."

"One of your spirit trees? This place must have been important." I said, my aching body lending strength to my sarcasm despite my intentions.

Weebam-Na hissed but it was more of amusement that annoyance. "Don't mock the Hist, at least not where one can hear you. This village may have been larger and more important some time ago but that's not the most interesting thing about this place. This place reeks of fear."

I look a slow and careful look the clearing containing the village but was unable to see any signs of disturbance other than the eerie lack of life itself. Smoke rose from a handle of fires no larger than a typical campfire but unlike Weebam-Na, my own senses were unable to detect any strange smells.

"What do you mean?"

He nodded towards some of the closest huts as we paddled up to the collections of duckboards reaching out over the water in the centre of the village. "I mean that we all should be wary here. We don't want to force anyone to act rashly."

At his nod I looked closer at the buildings, seeing how their windows and strangely curved doorways had been crudely barricaded with boards, logs and stones. It was obvious that they had only just been barricaded and I could've sworn that a clay pot in the nearest doorway was still shaking slightly after being placed just as we brought our tiny boat in close to the bank.

"Keep your hands from your weapons, unless things go to oblivion in a hurry." Weebam-Na murmured, making a few short gestures to the others in the boats close behind us.

As he or Bejeen had done when we had arrived at the other villages, he climbed carefully out of the boat and purposely left his weapons behind. The other villages that we had arrived in had been nervous at our presence and their lack of familiarity with non-Argonians but this settlement was appearing almost entirely desolated. While we had only know each other for a short time, I knew him well enough to notice how he was treading very carefully along the path leading from the collection of fishing piers and jetties towards the nearest buildings.

Like the other times, he had simply begun making a clicking noise, standing tall and turning slowly as he made a series of strange calls that rose the hairs on the back of my neck. The limited number of Argonians in the Morrowind Legions had left me unaccustomed to their true culture but I still couldn't help but chuckle lightly at the image of Weebam-Na as a tall and wingless bird as he called out to the village.

His clicking and hisses continued for several moments and somehow his strange warbling cry seemed to echo through the entire area. For a few moments it did appear that the entire village was deserted, but my vampire hearing allowed me to hear the return cry emanating from within one of the buildings. Weebam-Na merely tilted his head, looking into one of the doorways as the crude barricade was carefully dragged out of the way.

While the local was indeed an Argonian, they shared little similarity with our guides. Where Weebam-Na was tall and strong, his hide rough from a lifetime of hunting within the bounds of County Leyawiin, this new Argonian appeared almost stunted and deformed in comparison. There was however a strange strength to it as it moved out into the light outside of the rough hovel, looking up into Weebam-Na's features with a tilted head and tasting his scent on the air. The two of them stared at each other, trading words in their strange chittering tongues loud enough that it soon drew the rest of the village's inhabitants from every doorway and shadow.

After several minutes of clicking speech, Weebam-Na looked back at us, providing a brief nod before continuing to chitter and hiss away with the other Argonians. With the simple gesture, the rest of us quickly disembarked, attempting not to fill our boots with river water and muds as we had on the previous times before dragging the boats up the side of the bank. It was a routine that we were all becoming increasingly familiar with and within a few minutes the boats were secured under the curious eyes of the villages inhabitants.

There were dozens of them, of all shapes sizes and ages. Some were old, hunched from age and covered with overgrowths of scales and parasites. Others were young hatchings, barely standing up to waist height and not even having shed their first skins, but no matter their age they all wore rough leather harnesses and belts made from netch and crocodile skins and little else. Unlike the other races, the Argonians didn't truly need clothing or armour to protect themselves from the elements and they used it more for decoration and utility.

The crowding mass of the village's occupants parted as Weebam-Na and the first Argonian who appeared lead us into the village. There was a considerable gap between us and the nearest locals as they all kept their distance. While we were all armed we moved carefully and without any outwards signs of aggression as trust was a rare commodity within the Black. Some of the younger, more curious ones moved forward but scaled hands from their parents would reach out and dragi them all to safety behind the shifting wall of scales and leathery hides.

"Is it just me, or does this whole place fell… off." Alexi commented offhandedly as we moved through the tiny crowd. "I thought that Argonians were resistant to diseases and such but this lot looks very sickly."

"We are resistant." Bejeen's reply was short, but she too looked uneasy. "There are some sicknesses that can claim us but these people are starving."

I caught Viconia's glance around all of us from where she was walking by my side. Her face and mine were flushed with heat and I especially was suffering from an increasing sweat rash from the tropical humidity. "How are they starving? We have had no problems catching game or food on our way here."

Towards the back, the weight of Mazoga and Falid was making itself felt through our boots and the layered stones that had been built between the huts. Mazoga simply grunted, gestured with an enormous gloved hand at those clustered around us and shrugged. "They have no warriors. There aint any who aint very young, or very old. It don't look like there is a single one of fighting age in the lot of 'em."

"Out hunting maybe?" I suggested, seeing the expression on Bejeen's face and the way she shook her head.

"A village would never willingly send all their warriors and hunters out at the same time and leave it defenceless. I caught a glimpse of their nursery back there and its defended by a pair of middle-aged hatchlings. That's a job for the largest and most experienced males."

"Plague?" Growled Falid. His voice as ever was deep and purposeful and he was able to simply look over everyone's heads, providing him with a clearer view of the entire settlement.

"No." Bejeen looked around at us and I could tell by her body language that she too was uneasy with being here. "If there was a plague or some form of sickness then we'd only be seeing the healthy and the young, rather than the sick and the old. Something else has happened here, and I would put money on some form of conflict."

The centre of the village was a large circular space built around the towering tree growing in the very middle of the all the huts and buildings. It was as tall as an oak, the branches twisting and spread out like the dozens of other species within the marshes and yet its leaves were somehow spined like a pine but as supple and bending like swamp grass. There was something distinctly wrong about the tree that I couldn't quite put my finger on and with a glance around the group I knew that I wasn't the only one who felt a similar way.

Standing before the tree were a small collection of individuals, two of which standing out of the rest of the village by their appearances. One stood half my height and if he had been human I would have assumed that he had been a young boy barely in his teens, while the other stood half my height due to the fact that it was hunchbacked and bent. The younger Argonian was dressed in a collection of leathers that had obviously been made for a being much larger than himself, and in a mildly comical way wore the bottom jaw taken from a crocodile or other great lizard of the marshes. On a full grown Argonian it would have sat under the jaw almost comfortably and have provided the appearance of an enormous under bite but on this middle aged hatchling it was obviously awkward and very ill fitting.

The other being was one that none of us wished to move closer to within seconds of laying eyes on it. While much, much older than the jawbone wearing youngster, this Argonian was filled with a strange maniacal energy as it twitched and writhed this way and that. So jerky and uncoordinated were its movements it almost appeared as though it was suffering a fit and unlike the rest of us or the villagers it turned and moved in very quick, very precise movements. It seemed entirely incapable of performing a slow, steady motion with any part of its body and the way that its head jerked and stared at us as we approached made us feel even more wary.

What was worse was unlike all of the others it almost appeared to be clothed. Great sheets of leather taken from all manner of creatures and beasts hung down over it like an ancient, crumbling cloak of hide, and somewhere in its mass it had inserted branches, horns and talons to prop its horrid garments in seemingly random places. In a stark contrast between it and our two Argonian guides, the bits of flesh that we could see under the leather was tainted and sporting vast swathes of fungus and moss growing over its scales as though it was a partially submerged stone. The thickness and the sheer quantity of the surface of its skin that had been covered showed that it had been carefully cultivated over years, if not longer to reach that current state.

Moving into a rough, curved line on the semi-paved path looping around the base of the ancient tree, we all came to a stop facing the two individuals and their assorted followers. The tribe was still exceedingly wary of us but it was more and more apparent that they were entirely lacking in males, and most females in their middling years.

To my surprise, the younger Argonian stepped forward and began to squeak and hiss at us, the seemingly enormous jawbone rattling in the movements while struggling to remain locked to his own jaw. He continued for a few minutes, before stopping and looking over us all as the silence dropped heavily over the village.

"Well?" I said simply, looking over to Weebam-Na in expectation after he replied and made the show of baring his throat to the young Argonian. He had explained in the first village that we had come across that a gesture was a sign of respect to those in positions in power and such an act from himself would show that he was to be trusted. After all, showing one's throat and offering someone else the opportunity to rip it out was about as unsubtle as one could get to show that they weren't there to cause problems.

"Wuleen-Tulm Kaysareeth welcomes us to his village. He has just formally introduced himself and Greejan-Ze. Greejan-Ze is the village's Tree Minder; what you all would call a shaman."

In front of us all the moss and leather covered shaman was shifting and moving about, stepping down onto the rocky path in such a way that seemed more insect that Argonian. His motions somehow hurt the eye and as he moved closer I could help but shrink back in his presence. The sheer overwhelming aura of his power was almost as potent as the rotten, musky stench that emanated from his being While used to mages and being in Viconia's presence there was something very strange about the power that the mage commanded.

The young chieftain also moved closer, his tongue flicking out of his mouth with each step as he took his time to regard each and every one of us. Despite my unfamiliarity with Argonians in general it was difficult not to see the trepidation and uneasiness he was showing despite his best efforts not to. His position and the head of the village meant that he could do nothing else but show power and control and a lack of fear, which when facing beings such as Mazoga, Viconia and especially Falid was quite difficult to do. Falid was easily three times his size in height alone and weighed as much as five or six of the members of the tribe combined.

It was when he stopped in front of Viconia and me that his interest, and that of the tribe in turn seemed to stay. As the leaders of our expedition we stood in the centre, but it was our armour that seemed to have their attention rather than who we were. In the heat and moisture and while paddling our boats we all ensured that we were stripped down as much as possible but the dangers of the marshes ensured that we weren't entirely unprotected. Each and every one of us wore our armoured under-layers, which for all bar Detane with his brigandine meant chainmail. Falid's chainmail was as black as the rest of his armour, Alexi wore a thin shirt that would have been laughable if not for being made from Mithril and Mazoga's was thick and durable and made from orichalcum. In contrast Viconia's and mine were very noticeable, especially with the hundreds of individual daedroth scales that covered us from thigh to neck and our arms down to our wrists.

Our shirts were of great interest and for several minutes the young chieftain looked over them, taking into the way that the different scales were overlapped in such a way to maximise protection. After some time, he had simply stopped, looking between the two of us and hissing in his native tongue.

"Wuleen-Tulm is asking what manner of creature your armour is made from." Weebam-Na translated for us.

"Tell him that it was taken from a pair of creatures that we killed months ago. Is there a word for daedra or do they have understanding of Oblivion?"

Chittering in amusement, Weebam-Na laughed lightly and nodded. "They do indeed."

When he translated my words, there was a noticeable ripple of surprise through the assembled mass and the young Argonian in front of us struggled to remain stoic and entirely impassive and almost succeeded. He turned briefly and laid eyes on the hunched figure hanging back between him and the tree, speaking briefly and giving a nod.

"They don't trust us, and so he just instructed the shaman to consult with the Hist and their ancestors about our purpose here."

"Stupid misbegotten peasants." As always, the odd times that Detane spoke his voice was filled with loathing and bile. "The heretical beings should kowtow to their betters rather than questioning them."

"This isn't the time or place Detane." Alexi warned. "Let them have their little superstitions and rituals. Maybe they'll let us stay the night."

Viconia, standing by my side muttered under her breath for a few moments before looking about the village. "Ka Shar zhah kaliath. Drag me out of here if you must but I will not be spending another night in one of those damn canoes."

I watched the shaman with interest as he scrambled back towards the tree, moving over to where a curious arrangement of hanging clay bowls were suspended from the branches to collect the thick sap where it dripped from the bark. There was a handful of similar arrangements scattered about in the branches, some so high up that only an experienced climber could reach them. Most it appeared had collected a significant quantity of sap that had the texture of honey and yet flowed as sluggishly as tar. It was one of these bowls that he acquired as carefully as he could with his erratic movements before turning and moving back towards us all.

Whatever ritual I was expecting, it certainly wasn't the shaman dipping his head over the bowl of sap and taking an enormous lick of the strange material. The effects were also unexpected and he twitched so hard that I was surprised that he didn't break bones, his eyes writhing about in his skull until they were looking completely different directions and shuddering like he was suffering a stroke.

Rapidly hissing and chittering in their native tongue, the words if they could be called as such began pouring from him in an obvious rush that struggled to escape him quickly enough. Weebam-Na, Bejeen and the other Argonians were all standing as though entranced and we all were left looking between them and the shuddering, spasming shaman.

"He says that eight have come seeking wisdom and nine will return." Weebam-Na translated for us helpfully, waiting a few seconds between sentences to listen and hear what the shaman was saying. "Death, doom and destruction walk in their paths but only to those who seek to hinder or to stop them. We are great warriors, hunters and slayers of the mightiest of beasts. Our paths may be dark, but we somehow provide our own lights and lights for others."

There was considerable consternation amongst the villagers and there was a surge of what could only be described as excitement at the shaman's words, even as he collapsed at the end of whatever visions that had consumed his mind.

Forcibly spitting on the ground, Detane looked about the village and sneered with even more force than his customary nature. "Parasite riddled, brain addled animals."

"They know about the shield."

"Looks like it." Replied Alexi and I felt a measure of surprise as I thought I had been whispering my words too quietly for the others to hear.

"Pagan superstitions and heretical rituals, that's all that was."

I turned and gave Detane an expression of annoyance even as I rolled my eyes. "He specifically said that we have 'come seeking wisdom.' The shield is the artefact of Julianos. You know? The God of Wisdom."

The villagers were shifting closer to us as the shaman picked himself up from where he had fallen and had started a serious appearing conversation with the young chieftain and Weebam-Na hissed in agreement to my words. "Kaius is correct. He spoke of wisdom not as a thought or knowledge but as a physical thing. I believe this is the place we seek."

"How certain are you?" Viconia asked.

"Very. We are in the right area by your maps and directions and there won't be many other villages nearby."

Bejeen also nodded "I agree. There won't be any other places such as this. It will give us time to rest even if we aren't right."

Turning back to us, the young Argonian and his oversized decorative jawbone looked between us all and nodded, hissing and clicking to Weebam-Na and waiting with an air of expectation as our guide translated.

"We have been granted permission to stay as long as we need, and Wuleen-Tulm has also granted us use of the communal hut for a place to stay. He makes apologies for being unable to provide much in the way of supplies but they will assist us where they can."

"Excellent." I gave a light bow to the chief, patting my fist against my chest in a legionary salute that seemed to startle him slightly before he realised it was a sign of respect. "Bam, find out where this hut is. We'll secure the boats and shift everything into it for the night. While we are getting settled I want you and Bejeen to ask about and find out what the village knows about the Shield. Also try to find out exactly what is going on here too because I have a bad feeling about this."

"You aren't the only one." Viconia muttered, looking about the village again and trying not to visibly shy away from the locals as they shifted forward now that their chief had allowed us to stay. Most, now that they were closer were obviously thin and malnourished and several, especially some of the older villagers had ribs clearly defined in their chests.

There were a number of them, well over a hundred living within the several dozen huts in communal groups. There was a strange order to the place that seemed at odds with the way how one out of every three of the locals were emasculated to the point of death, and despite their resilient hides there were some that were struggling with clusters of parasites and other marshland creatures. In the process of returning to our boats and beginning the process of unloading them, I even saw one group of hatchlings being cared for by a slightly older Argonian who was using the glowing tip of a burnt stick to sear away the wriggling things that had clustered in an armpit. It was a sight that we had not seen at the other villages we had passed through, and it was obvious that this place was much poorer than any that I had ever seen before.

Leaving Weebam-Na and Bejeen to wander the village talking to the locals and making arrangements, the rest of us unloaded and retrieved everything of value from the boats and stowed them in the hut allocated to us. in a village such as this, anything of value was everything that wasn't the boats themselves, right down to the mooring ropes and the paddles. Briefly I even considered seeing if the seats nailed into the hull were worth attempting to be retrieved but thought against it only because of the time it would take to remove them.

The communal hut itself was large and accommodating, surprisingly so for a village of this size. Even the floor to our surprise was actually stone, and while lacking in mortar was clean, solid and so well built that any of us would have struggled to slip a dagger between the cracks. It was unusual to an extreme, especially how the rest of the village didn't appear to have been the sort of place for such skillfully made masonry but we were not begrudging a place to sleep that was dry and not moving about underneath us.

There was more than enough space within its baked-mud walls and marsh wood roof for two, possibly three dozen individuals to live comfortably and we all put the fire pit in the centre to good use almost before we had finished moving inside. Our water stocks had run out quickly and while this had been something we had expected it took considerable time to prepare fresh supplies. Weebam-Na and Bejeen were able to drink directly from the rivers but for the rest of us with perhaps the exception of Mazoga who appeared to have a stomach made of iron, we had to boil every drop no matter whether it was for drinking or bathing. Every meal that we prepared, every time we took a drink, it was from carefully prepared sources that took much longer to prepare than it took to consume.

Our equipment too required much more maintenance than it had previously, and our days whenever we hadn't been in our boats had been repairing and cleaning everything we owned. Mud and muck accumulated on every surface, clinging with a grim tenacity and threatening rust and decay on almost everything we owned. Only Alexi's mithril chainmail, Falid's ebony armour and Viconia's and my swords seemed immune to the creeping filth and rust which meant the rest of us were kept busy throughout our waking hours. In a strange turnabout, the only person who didn't need to spend much time repairing and cleaning was Detane as the poor quality of his equipment meant that further rust and grime did little to further affect his possessions. His sword and scabbard however were lovingly maintained and kept to a razored edge that matched Sunchild's.

"At least this place is cosy." Alexi said with an ever present cheer that seemed utterly indefatigable. He could be buried up to his neck in a latrine and would still smile and comment about at least his face wasn't covered.

"It could be an upper class tavern in the Imperial City compared to another night in the boats. I think my spine is bent in three separate places."

Smiling while rubbing his polishing cloth over the surface of his armour, he briefly looked up at me before turning his attention back to the demi-plate armour carefully laid out in front of him. As typical for his level of skill, whenever he wasn't mounted on his horse he wore a significantly cut down plate armour that didn't hinder his agility or speed and only really protected the vitals. Much like Viconia, he was a duellist and relied on his reflexes and not being hit in the first place rather than armour.

"I would have thought that a man such as yourself was used to sleeping rough? How many times has Viconia kicked you out of bed of a night?"

"Only the times that he has failed to live up to expectations." Viconia added with a grin that was simultaneously blood chilling and amused.

"So… Every night then?"

We all laughed and he barely looked up to catch the wadded up ball of cloth that I threw at his head. "If only your abilities within the bedroom were as gifted as your skills with a blade." The tone and words in Viconia's voice was nine tenths challenge and one tenth teasing and Alexi sighed, leaning back with an expression of fake sorrow on his face.

"Both are satisfying in their own ways. Although if I was to be as skilful with a blade as I am in bed then I'd have to get a bigger sword." using his polishing cloth, he pointed in the direction of the far wall where the enormous shadow of Falid sat as still as the mud walls themselves. "I'd have to start wielding that hunk of raw iron that Falid has over there…"

Falid sat quietly, legs crossed and hands resting on his knees with his armour arrayed neatly next to his and his enormous greatsword resting with the tip facing him. It truly was a monster of a weapon and while not much larger than other greatswords it was incredibly made. Without my vampiric strength it was too cumbersome, the hilt alone as long as Sunchild and with a pair of wicked hooks set thirty centimetres above the crossguard that Falid could use to catch other blades and twist them out of their owner's hands.

With his eyes closed, the only motions that separated him from being a colossus of a statue was the steady rise and fall of his chest as he mediated. "Strive not to be a success, but rather to be of value." He rumbled without opening his eyes for a moment.

Even sitting the sheer size of the Black Knight was humbling and it was almost incomprehensible that such a big man could move as smoothly or gracefully as he did. What was even more unusual was his ability to sit as still as a stone for hours on end, doing nothing more than controlling his breathing, mediating and praying.

"There are many women throughout Cyrodiil who value my… Swordwork." Alexi said specifically to Viconia.

"All flash and no staying power. Those painted damsels who are so easily swayed by gracefulness and a smile never know what it is like to have a true man under their power. Say what you like about Kaius however, but there is no denying a legionary's stamina."

My expression must have been obvious despite my attempts to hide it and while Alexi was obviously enjoying my sudden embarrassment, Viconia's amusement was hidden to all but myself. Her eyes though did move about the room to our other companions; Detane meticulously running a whetstone along the edge of his rapier to keep it sharp and well-oiled and Mazoga who was sitting closest to the fire pit with her boots off and plucking the fat bodied leeches from a leg. The golden eyes came to rest on Falid and there was a look that I knew all too well came across her face even if it was in jest.

"Sometimes I miss the customs of the Underdark, like the breaking in of new pleasure slaves. The largest and strongest were the hardest to break, but they were the most rewarding..."

Falid briefly cracked an eye in Viconia's direction, before shutting it again and continuing on with his mediation and showing no sign of her words. Alexi however suddenly looked a little uneasy if still highly amused. "You know… You terrify me sometimes Viconia."

"How do you think I feel?" I replied. "In these past months I have fought vampires, werewolves, daedra and have jumped headfirst into Oblivion on two separate occasions and she scares me more than all those combined."

"Behind every great man, is a woman that scares the shit out of him."

White teeth flashed in her face and there was immense amusement in her expression and the three of us were left laughing much to Detane's annoyance. In a partially concealed attempt to change the topic Alexi ended up grimacing and gesturing to Mazoga where she sat close to the fire removing the leeches and other parasites that had attached themselves to her.

"You know there is an easier way to get rid of them, right?"

We had all suffered attacks by the blood thirsty creatures as well as the varied collection of fish and insects that all seemed intent on feeding upon our flesh. Like the others I was also covered with dozens of mosquito bites wherever my flesh hadn't been covered by my clothes although I had an increasing fear from the fact that I hadn't needed to deal with leeches. No one else had noticed yet but I had not had to remove one at all, as the black worm like creatures had a habit of dying within minutes of latching onto me. Whether it was my vampirism of daedric blood I was uncertain but so far no one had seemed to notice such a discrepancy.

She looked up at Alexi, down to her enormous green leg where the last surviving pair of leeches sat hungrily feeding away and shrugged. "Eh. This is quicker." Pinching one of the leeches, she simply tugged it off her leg and ignored whatever pain she must have felt and the blood streaming down her leg from where it and the others had been feeding. The crushed remains were tossed into the fire, and she continued on with her hunt without even a flicker of emotion.

Shifting at the sudden appearance of Argonians walking through the opened doorway, we all saw the familiar sight of Weebam-Na and Bejeen as they returned from their walk through the village and speaking with the locals. They had a small collection of dried fish, and behind them a trio of younger hatchlings were bringing in a handful of gourds and clay pots that appeared to be filed with fresh water. Without a word, the younger Argonians placed them down in a pile near where Mazoga sat, turned and simply left the hut.

"Find anything interesting?"

"Not really." Bitterly dropping the fruits of his labour down into one of the empty cooking pots for storage, he also leaned his spear against the wall next to Bejeen's. "The whole village is quiet and none of them are willing to talk to us about much at all. Every time that we try to talk about the Shield, the local area or recent events they clam up tighter than a caiman's jaws. It was hard enough to barter for dinner."

"These scum probably have already plundered the shield and seek to hide it from us." Detane snarled, his whetstone stopping mid blade. "I say we tear this place apart and find it."

"They have no need for trinkets or relics such as that." Weebam-Na explained, showing his hunters patience as he stared down the Breton chevalier. "They value the Hist and not much else. Something is going on here and my sniffer is telling me that we need to find out what."

"Addicts and inbreds the whole lot of them. The only redeemable feature about them all is that least they aren't pigs."

As she had several times during the long days travelling, Mazoga simply couldn't resist the bait and glared at him. I knew most Breton's had a racial prejudice against the Orcs but Detane took it to an extreme. "At least they aren't Breton's with their heads stuffed up their arses!"

"Big words from you Greenskin. You almost reached three syllables there."

"That's enough from you Detane!" I snapped, and both he and Mazoga turned to look at me from the growl in my throat. Like the rest of them I was tired and sore, but unlike the others the responsibility of leading the group had fallen to me. Despite herself, Viconia had been content on taking a step back and following along, doing what she described as 'leaving this manure fire to someone else to contain.'

"Can we not go a single day without you two going for each other's throats?" Next time either of you say anything to the other, I'll throw your arses in the swamp for the night."

Mazoga looked at me like she had done over the previous days as though she was trying to calculate whether I had the strength necessary to make good of my threat but in the end she relented. As for Detane, he simply scowled even more deeply as though his facial muscles were going to crush his skull and returned to what he was doing.

I turned to Weebam-Na who was looking highly amused, his reptilian grin enormous as he too didn't get along with the short Breton. "You know that you had someone following you?"

His head twitched and he looked confused for a second before a scratching at the door announced a visitor.

"I keep forgetting that you have better hearing than me." Turning on his heel, he moved back to the door, looked out and stopped in place. "Ah. We definitely have a visitor."

Stepping back from the door, he shifted slightly and allowed the new arrival to enter. Of the locals we were not expecting the sight of the hunchbacked and leather clad shaman to come shuffling in.

Almost as a united group with the exception of Falid who continued to sit as still as a granite statue, we all shuffled in place to put distance between us and the unnatural visage of the village magic user. In the confines of the hut his stench was almost overpowering, smelling like a sickly-sweet combination of vomit, rotten meat and decaying plant matter and yet again I found myself cursing my vampiric senses.

Hissing and chirping in a manner that I could only describe as slow and purposeful, the way that the Argonian spoke was at odds to the customary tics and spasms that rocked various limbs at random. He looked about the room under his cowl of leathery hides and layer of moss, speaking to us all at the same time.

"Greejan-Ze apparently has several things to tell us that we will find of interest." Weebam-Na translated. "But firstly he recommends that we do not drink or otherwise use the water that we were just provided."

Mazoga was in mid motion of reaching for one of the gourds to help scrub the blood off her leg from the leeches and paused. "Why?"

Hissing back and forth Weebam-Na suddenly looked a lot more nervous. "Because the water has been poisoned."

"I knew it. these filthy lizards mean to kill us!" Detane snapped, looking pleased with himself for being proven right.

Talking to the shaman, Weebam-Na shook his head. "It doesn't sound to be that simple. Apparently they were instructed to poison any travellers who came here for any reason and dispose of the bodies."

Viconia's brow furrowed and there was no doubting the way her hand was gripping Dragonbane's hilt. "Instructed by who?"

There was another collection of hisses to Weebam-Na's question and if he had been human he would have paled. "Uh oh."

"Uh oh?"

"We… ah, may have stuck our heads into a flamestinger nest." They continued chittering for a few more minutes which left Weebam-Na leaning against the wall and Bejeen looking just as concerned as he was. "It appears that the reason why none of the hunters or warriors of this village are present is that they are all dead. This village, and a handful further up river are all under the control of a group of bandits that arrived in the area a few months ago. They killed everyone who resisted and are taking whatever food and supplies they can."

"Shit." I murmured, and there was a sudden pall of unease and concern filling the room.

"Yeah. Wuleen-Tulm is the son of the previous chief who tried to stand up to the bandits. As he's now the chief you can understand how well that worked out for them at all."

"So why is he telling us all of this?"

"Because he has been instructed to do so by the Hist. The bandits have for all intents enslaved all the Argonians within the area and have threatened to burn the Spirit-Trees and kill every last villager if they are betrayed or otherwise crossed."

"A tree told him that he is to help us?" Detane asked incredulously and found himself partially surprised when Viconia and I seemed to share his disbelief.

"The Hist aren't normal trees." Weebam-Na explained. "To you smoothskins they might appear to be so but they and the Argonians exist together in harmony. They have power unmatched by anything in existence whether you believe it or not."

"So now we are being aided by a stack of sentient firewood." Despite her bitterness, Viconia was smiling and almost laughing to herself. "I've seen stranger things in my time."

"So obviously they want our help in kicking their arses out of the area?" Alexi asked, beating me to the most obvious question of them all.

The hissing and chirping was renewed and left Weebam-Na scratching at his jaw in frustration. "It appears so, but unfortunately for us this is definitely the village we were seeking. Greejan-Ze says that he knows how we have come for the shield and knows where it is located. The really bad news is that the old fort we seek is where these bandits have set up their home."

The wave of despair and defeat that suddenly flooded the room was almost a physical thing but only a few of us were unaffected by it. Falid, still sitting quietly in the same position he had in the past hour simply opened his eyes.

"They will not have the shield." He rumbled. "If they had, they wouldn't be staying here. They would be closer to civilisation trying to bargain or ransom it."

"There is still hope then." I turned my gaze from the giant Redguard and back to Weebam-Na. "How many are there?"

Having obviously already asked the question, Weebam-Na shrugged and gestured hopelessly. "They are uncertain as they have never been here in a single group but there are at least forty, easily a lot more."

Of all the typical reactions throughout the room, it was Detane's that caught my attention. While everyone else looked extremely sober by the number we were facing, Detane had somehow relaxed, an expression of contentment consuming his usual sneer until he was as relaxed as Falid. It was not an expression that I found comforting in the current situation.

Mazoga however was busy using the fingers of both hands to calculate the number, her brow and tusked jaw tightening as she counted, lost count and began recounting before shrugging and losing interest.

"Viconia and I have faced worse odds." My exclamation was more concerning that it wasn't a boast and I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about that fact.

"So have I." Alexi replied, and he smiled as he caught my gaze. "Okay, fine. I haven't, but I didn't want to admit so in the presence of the Heroes of Kvatch."

"What now?"

Rubbing the rough stubble on my jaw in thought, I glanced at Viconia before looking at the others in the hut. "I'm not sure. What does Greejan-Ze say?"

Weebam-Na gestured to the water that we had been provided. "The bandits usually come once or twice a week for their tribute, but their scouts keep a close eye on the villages under their control. By now word of our arrival will be going back to their camp and he said just before that the last time that they had visitors a group of them came during the night. The village had initially refused to poison them so when the bandits came there was a fight. The next day they killed some of the hatchlings as punishment. They don't have anyone strong enough or the numbers to be able to fight them off and they are too scared of retaliation to stand up to them. Too many have died already."

Detane's expression soured again and changed from the relaxed expectation that he had worn the second before. "So they expect us to fight and bleed for them instead. Pathetic."

"How many are they expecting to come tonight?"

After a brief hiss, Weebam-Na nodded to the shaman. "Last time there was three to four dozen who came to secure the town while they checked on the visitors. The merchant or whoever it was managed to kill or wound a couple of them before he and his guards were killed."

The slow crawl of a plan started to form in my mind, and I clenched my jaw at the thought of what awaited us once the darkness fell. Taking my time to look about the group, I blew out a long breath clicked my tongue. "Everyone's thoughts?"

"We retrieve the Shield." Falid said simply, and Viconia, Alexi and Mazoga nodded in agreement.

"What about you two?" I asked Weebam-Na and Bejeen.

"You have only paid us for half the journey, which means that we need to get you back to Leyawiin to get the rest of the coin." The gleam in Bejeen's eyes was not entirely the lust for gold.

"And it's either facing death here, or death in the marshes. This lot coming for us will know the area between than myself and Bejeen. We have a better chance surviving if we stand and fight here."

"What about you Detane?"

The Breton's scowl was in full force but somehow the prospect of a fight and potential death was calming his otherwise bitter tongue. "I will fight. Banish your thoughts to the contrary Sir Desin."

"Well then." Turning back to the hunched shaman, I looked him straight in the unusually mismatched eyes and gave him a single nod. The way that his mouth opened slightly in what I assumed was a grin left me remembering the enormous crocodile that we had encountered a few days previously that was longer than our boats. "I guess we better work out how we are going to pull this off."

"Well, you know what time it is then Sir Desin?" Alexi said, picking up his custom made duelling sallet and fitting it down over his head.

As I turned and looked his grin entirely matched the Argonians in size as he was struggling to contain his laughter. As he slapped down the visor that hid all but his eyes in the three centimetre gap between the face plate and the helm itself his voice became muffled and slightly muted.

"It's Knight time."

My groan at the pun was matched only by Viconia and our Argonian guides while Mazoga looked confused, Detane looked gravely insulted and Falid's eyebrows marginally raised.

"Isto'sunduiri sslig'ne uns'aa dal waelen." Muttered Viconia bitterly while fingering the hilt of Dragonbane. "Surely he doesn't need his tongue in this endeavour?"