Author's note. Dear readers, you've reached a point in my story when I found that I could no longer adequately tell the story purely from Han lu's point of view. From this chapter on, I begin each chapter with a heading naming the person from whose perspective the story is being told. This has allowed the addition of many new and interesting characters. Thank you for your continued support and I hope you enjoy.

Blue the Argonian

I hauled the limp Dark elf up the muddy beach on the coast of Vvardenfell. The nearest I could figure, I was somewhere north of Hia Oad. The ship had been headed west to mainland Morrowind and had tacked north a bit in its attempt to escape the Imperial galley. Once I'd jumped into the water, I'd relied on my Argonian's innate sense of direction to head east.

I stayed under the water once the ship caught fire. Using my gills allowed me to hide until the Imperial ship left the area. I tried to save some of the crew in the water, but the galley stowed it's sails and circled the merchant ship by oar power while archers searched the water for survivors. None of the other crewmen were Argonians so they had to remain at the surface and were all eventually spotted by the death squad and shot. By luck and my body's natural affinity for underwater navigation, I'd found the overboard Dark elf passenger on my way back to the coast.

The swim took me hours. Carrying the unconscious Dark elf delayed me further, creating more drag and forcing me to keep his head above water. Now that I'd gotten us to the muddy edge of the sea, I collapsed in exhaustion against the nearest tree and relaxed, flexing my gills and purging the sea water from my throat until they dried out. Once they were clear, my gills laid flat on my neck until they were barely visible as slits in my hide. My iridescent green scales meshing to leave my neck looking like the rest of my "skin."

Still panting from my efforts, I glanced at the Dark elf sprawled in the mud. The warmblood was shivering, as non Argonians would do when they got cold, I realized. With a lizard-like groan, I pushed myself to my feet and searched the area for firewood. It wasn't hard to see as both moons shone unusually bright tonight and I was able to find a number of deadwood logs. Using my one handed axe, I split the wood into kindling and tinder, carefully building a teepee of increasingly larger sticks. Once the structure stood, I held my hands over the pile. One of the other crewmen, a Breton had started teaching me magic the last couple weeks. He'd told me I was a slow learner, but with long voyages to practice, I'd eventually managed a couple rudimentary spells.

I willed the flow of magic from my body, out through my hands and imagined heat building up in the smallest of the slivers of wood I'd shaved. The teepee seemed determined to resist my efforts, at first just giving off black smoke to taunt me. I took this as a personal offense and persisted and eventually an ember appeared and grew into a flame. I couldn't help but smile at my success, small as it may be. Soon, I had a formidable campfire and I dragged the Dunmer close to it to dry and warm him.

With that taken care of, I found my tree again and leaned my head back to rest, letting exhaustion overcome me.

"Ajira!" I jolted awake at the noise of someone yelling. The Dark elf was crawling on hands and knees back toward the ocean. I leaped to my feet to stop him as a parent might stop their child from touching a hot stove. Before the elf could crawl back to the ocean, I grabbed him from behind, picking him up around the torso and put him back in front of the fire.

"You need to stay warm, warmblood. The damp will be your death."

The Dunmer struggled weakly. "I have to save Ajira. I p... I promised her."

I shook my head and added wood to the fire. "There is nothing to be done. The Imperials killed everyone in the water."

The Dunmer met my eyes. "Did you see her?"

I thought back to the last panicked moments of the crewmen who had been shot in the water and scowled. "No. No I don't think she ever made it off the ship. I didn't find her in the water."

The Dunmer tried to stand and collapsed again. "I have to look. She's a mage. She could have guarded herself against the fire. She could still be out there."

I rubbed my temples. "You'd never make it. The ship was closer to the mainland than Vvardenfell. I'd have headed the other way, but I have business on the island. It's lucky for you I did, or else I wouldn't have found you."

The Dark elf looked at me, pleading in his eyes. "Please, go look for her. I'll give anything I have, do anything you want. I need her to be safe."

The Dunmer's eyes glistened with tears. I tried to avoid his gaze, but he looked so helpless, even pitiful. I groaned, knowing I could make the swim back to the wreck, if there was still a wreck to find, but to carry a second person back? "I don't know if I can Dunmer."

The elf crawled forward on his knees. "Name your price. Anything. My life is yours if you'll do this for me."

I took a deep breath and shrugged. "Well how can I say no to that?" With a groan at my aching muscles, I hauled myself to my feet and strode back into the water. I searched for hours. My sense of direction didn't fail me. I found the point of the battle and with a deep dive, I was able to find the charred remains of the Northern Pride on the ocean floor. There was, however, no sign of a Khajiit anywhere. I took the time to search the Captain's cabin and the ship's hold. There were a number of treasures ripe for the taking. I decided to appropriate the Captains personal stash from a chest in his cabin which included a fair bit of gold and assorted gems. I stored this loot in a crate from the hold. First I had to empty out the original contents, some weird looking clay statues. The crate sat forcefully against the roof of the hold, trying to float. It took some work to drag it along the ceiling to the cargo door, but once it was free, it shot straight to the surface.

I myself, took my time resurfacing as my mother had taught me. 'Surfacing too quickly will cause a sickness in your blood,' she had said.

After deciding there was no sign of the Khajiit, I kicked my way back to the atmosphere with a length of rope from the rigging and tied it around my waist so I could drag my treasure crate behind me and finally headed back to Vvardenfell.

It was mid morning when I found the makeshift camp again. I pulled my crate far enough up the muddy beach so that the tide couldn't snatch it away and stumbled into the camp. The fire was burned out and there was no Dark elf to be seen. I wrinkled my brow and searched the immediate area, finding nothing.

"Don't tell me I just got played," I complained. "I should have expected as much from a cursed Dunmer. Guess I'll take my cargo and go."

I stomped away from the marshes, back to my crate. Something dropped from one of the trees above right behind me and threw a bag over my head. I spun wildly, swiping at the figure with my short claws, but the mystery opponent blocked my blow and punched me in the gut.

I doubled over on one knee and was pushed to the ground where people I couldn't see bound my wrists with rope. The silent figure hauled me to my feet. "Move prisoner!"