That night, I remember having a dream. The only thing I could remember was some figure wearing a golden mask. He spoke to me, but I couldn't remember what he said. Whatever it was, I awoke with a chill running up my spine.

The other guild members were just waking, but I tried to ignore them again, hoping they'd dress and leave.

"Rise and shine outlander!" Someone lifted my mattress and I tumbled out of bed onto the floor. I threw my arms free of my blankets and rose to my feet with my arms raised to fight. The person who'd thrown me out of bed was a dark elf. He stood on the other side of the bunk with a superior grin on his face. He was taller than me by about two inches. He wore simple leather armor and I could see the pommel of a highly decorative sword sticking out over his left shoulder.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

"Newcomers train early. Now get to the sparring mat."

"Come on Balyn," called a deep voice from across the room. The bald Redguard was polishing a boot, sitting on his bunk. "Leave him alone, at least till after breakfast."

Balyn turned to look at the redguard. "He can eat after he's proved he can fight."

I took advantage of his distraction and tackled the bunk between us. I tipped it so it fell against Balyn and trapped him against the other bunk. The Redguard and and Imperial stood up in surprise and Balyn stared with eyes wide while he struggled to get free. "Wait don't..."

I cut them off, looking straight at Balyn. "You want me to fight you scum?" I paused and pressed on the bunk with my bare foot for emphasis. "Then I'll fight you, but know this. If you ever dump me out of bed again, I won't wait for the practice floor to spill your blood." With that, I tipped the bed back on its feet and released the elf. He stumbled as he tried to regain his balance. I stared him down until he sheepishly apologized.

"You'll have to forgive Balyn," said the Imperial. "We're a little cooped up as of late."

I dressed without answering. At first I was angry for being so rudely roused, but I calmed myself. This was good. It would give me a chance to gauge how much my skills had atrophied.

"What makes you think I'm an outlander, Balyn? How do you know I didn't grow up around here?"

Balyn sportingly forgave my threat and chuckled. "Your voice. If you'd grown up here, you'd have seen ash storms. If you spend your childhood breathing ash laden air, it wears on your voice." Now that he mentioned it, I noticed that his speech had a guttural sound. "That, and Eyedis told us you're from Cyrodiil."

"Loose lipped woman," I muttered under my breath.

"What," Balyn asked?

"Nothing." I shouldered past the tightly spaced bunks. "Come on."

The Redguard interjected. "It's alright. You really don't have to spar right now."

I was already in the hall when I replied, "Why wouldn't I?"

I took a minute in the training room and looked around at all the practice weapons. There were swords, axes, maces all made out of hardwood. The others shuffled in as I took a simple staff made of ash wood. Balyn looked like he might laugh at my choice, but one look at my glaring face warned him off. The Redguard and the Imperial both stood off to the side to watch looking very amused.

Balyn took a wooden sword and stood across from me. The Redguard leaned over to the Imperial. "Five Septims on the new guy."

The Imperial snorted. "You're on."

I took a two handed grip on my staff. The extra reach and the leverage I had would give me an advantage. Looking at Balyn, I could tell by his easy stance that he was at least somewhat experienced.

I made the first move, striking with the left end of the staff. He blocked easily and and I followed with the right. I caught and redirected his swings and stabs with all sections of the staff. I strafed right, trying to throw him off and give me time to breath. By Oblivion, I thought, I'm winded already.

Balyn saw I was getting tired and pressed on me. His sword flashed from one side to the other. I tried to use minimal effort to block, saving my energy and biding my time.

He lunged to my left. I deflected the blow with the middle of my staff and followed through with a side kick to his stomach. Balyn grunted and drew back. The two spectators oohed teasingly at him. I drew back to try and catch my breath, twirling the staff. I'd learned what I needed to know, so I decided to switch tactics and end the fight at the earliest opportunity.

Balyn renewed his assault and I had a hard time keeping up with him. One of his stabs caught me painfully in the shoulder, but I kept fighting. I struck a couple of token blows, but huffing for breath as I was, I left myself open to a slice to my right side. By all rights, it was a killing blow and I yielded.

The Redguard clapped. "Good show boys, good show. We just might make decent warriors out of you yet," he joked.

Balyn humphed. "I was a decent warrior before your guild came along. As for you," he turned to me. "You've got some work to do if you want to keep up around here."

"I'll make a note of that," I said politely. I didn't want to start a feud with any of the other guild members. At least not yet.

Balyn turned to leave. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some important matters to attend to today."

The Redguard rolled his eyes as Balyn strode from the room, then turned to me. "Sorry about him. He doesn't play well with others. Come on, let's get something to eat."

"Thanks, but I should be getting to my business too." The sooner I could find jobs to do, the sooner I could get off this island.

"Don't give me that," he chuckled. "I've only got enough patience for one tight nosed dark elf around here. Besides, it's my treat."

He ushered me to follow him, leaving no room for argument. The Imperial followed behind me and introduced himself and the Redguard. "I'm Hasphat by the way. Hasphat Antabolis. And the baldy in front of you is Wayn."

Wayne laughed at the gibe. "You wish you could pull off the look. Your pale scalp would fry to a crisp without your hair."

"Well it's not so much the heat here in Morrowind, it's the humidity," Hasphat parried.

"You haven't been very far inland have you? The ashlands are dry as can be," Wayn retorted.

Han-lu listened to their banter and paid attention to his surroundings. He decided he liked Balmora. The town was pleasant enough. Of course, he had already run into some of the less reputable citizenry, but it appeared the city guard had the riff raff well in hand 'Good,' he thought to himself. It was similar to the Imperial city where street crime was very rare, leaving the economy free to flourish. Then the professional criminals could take over.

Despite his intentions to leave as soon as possible, he imagined setting up shop here. 'I'd have to muscle in on the other crime guilds,' he thought, 'but I could smuggle banned goods, blackmail city officials, and maybe even racketeer. He shook his head, realizing he'd missed a good chunk of the conversation between Hasphat and Wayn.

Hasphat was droning on, unaware of Han-lu's lapse in concentration. "I came here because of the rumors of ancient ruins. Honestly, I could care less about competing with those glossy eyed scholars next door. They come here to study the history of this land, but bring books from where they came. There's plenty of knowledge to be learned here without the Empire telling you what to think of everything. You won't find it in the Empires tomes, right Han-lu?"

Han tripped over his words, trying to say something coherent. "I uh, suppose if you come here to study, you might as well study what's here."

"Hmph, well said," the Imperial praised. Like the rest of his people, he thoroughly enjoyed wordplay.

Wayn led us to a small outdoor restaurant called the Kwama kitchen. The kitchen was built in a small building. There were six round wooden tables in front of it. The eating area was covered by a large sheet of canvas as if it were an open large man ordered for me, Hasphat, and himself before leading us to a table.

As he situated his bulk onto a loudly creaking stool, he asked," So Han-lu, what sort of fighting experience have you had in the past? You've obviously held a staff before."

I cringed internally, trying to decide how much truth to throw in with my lies. "My dad was a caravaner in Cyrodiil. We practiced fighting and we had to drive off thieves and bandits on occasion. I'm afraid I'm terribly out of shape though. I contracted ataxia a month before coming here. The disease nearly took my life."

Hasphat rested his elbows on the table, getting comfortable while we waited for our food. "Why did you leave, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Same as you I guess. Heard rumors that there was money to be made."

Hasphat's grin turned to a half cringe. "I suppose you're in the same unlucky boat as the rest of us then. Poor sod. Just stick with us. We'll find some way to make it. With so much down time on our hands, some of the guild members are researching our own side projects." A dark elf approached our table. I had to whip my long hair to the side to see that it was the waitress bringing our food. She kept a somber expression, avoiding my companion's eyes. She caught me staring at her face. Casually, I gave a nod and she grinned back before returning to her work.

The plate before me held a pile of steaming meat, gravy, and some sort of chopped vegetable. "Would it be polite to ask what this is before putting it in my mouth?"

Hasphat stifled a snort while Wayn chuckled openly. "Get used to brown food. It's common here in Morrowind. That is chopped ash yam and mudcrab with gravy. We get a discount on mudcrab here because I'm the one who hunts it for them."

I gritted my teeth and braced my palate. We had mudcrabs in Cyrodiil, but seeing as they were bottom feeders, the meat tasted like the bottom of a river and few chefs were bold enough to cook with it.

I politely muscled down a forkful of the muddy mush and said, "Not bad."

Hasphat swallowed and retorted. "True, but it's not good either."

Wayn thumped his chest with mock bravado to hide the fact that he was choking it down himself. "Be that as it may, it's packed with nutrients. It'll put some hairs on your chest, that's for sure."

Hasphat pointed at Wayne. "Actually, elves don't grow hair on their chest."

Wayn drew his eyebrows together and turned to me. "No way, is that true?"

I nodded. "My chest is as smooth as your scalp."

"Well," he drew up. "I guess you learn something new everyday."

Among the flow of customers, I momentarily caught sight of a familiar figure sitting at a far table. Ajira, the Khajiit from the mages guild was lost in a book and absently picking at her plate with her fork. Hasphat caught my gaze and spotted her across the dining area. He leaned in and whispered, "Those Khajiit are supposed to have really good hearing. Do you think she could hear us from here?"

I smirked and said, "Of course. Her ears turned toward us as soon as you said Khajiit." As soon as I said it, Ajira's ears laid flat down on her head and it became obvious she was trying to ignore us. Wayn and Hasphat shared a laugh and Ajira's lips closed a little tighter as she concentrated on her book.

"Come on over here Ajira. Join us." Finally she looked up at me with a resigned sigh and crossed the distance between us with her book clutched to her chest.

Hasphat looked surprised that I knew her name, but didn't get to question me about it. "What is it that's so important that you'd interrupt this one's studies," Ajira demanded?

"I'm sure you can spend a little time meeting some of my new friends." I smiled innocently at the introverted cat as she fought to keep her hackles from rising. I introduced them to each other. "Ajira and I met on the silt strider the other day," I explained. "She's a student with the mages guild."

"A pleasure to meet you," the two humans responded.

"Hasphat, weren't you just saying something about the guild mages on the way over here?"

"Ah, yes. "He turned to Ajira. "I pointed out an observation I've made that many of the mages in your guild traveled here from Cyrodiil, but you seem to spend all your time in your guildhall. Don't you ever explore archaeological sites, or look for local magic rather than browse those dusty old tomes?"

Ajira looked annoyed that she had to take the time to answer his question. "Ajira supposes we look at artifacts that are brought to us from time to time, but Ajira is still just a student. Besides, as you have just seen demonstrated, Ajira has excellent hearing. She learns much just by eavesdropping."

I smiled, remembering a Khajiit spy my father had hired on several occasions. His hearing and stealth skills had made him a valuable infiltrator.

Wayne interjected. "I imagine that could also cause you a dilemma though. If you're trying to read, you'd constantly be distracted by noise, wouldn't you?"

Ajira smiled. "This one makes the best of what she has and tries to enjoy what advantages she has. For example, Ajira can hear other people's whispered secrets, but others can not hear hers." The cat leaned down close to my head and purred into my ear. "Ranis has a job for you." She stood and looked to my acquaintances. "Now if you will excuse her, this one bids you farewell."

She walked away briskly, robes bustling in the slight breeze. I looked down at my half eaten plate with growing distaste. Wayn noticed and said, "You going to finish that?" I pushed the plate over to him.

Hasphat stared at me with a question in his eyes. "Well, what did she say?"

I grinned. "She said that Khajiit rule and humans drool." I nodded to Wayn's chin where a bit of gravy was trailing its way downward. He laughed good naturedly before wiping his chin. "Thank you for the meal, but I need to get going. There's much to be done today."

"Farewell then," Hasphat waved.

Wayne nodded and swallowed. "See you later."