Hello again! This chapter is late by one week in my new schedule. I tried to also fit in Azirra's next task, but in the end I had to admit both the chapter and the waiting would be too long and just published what I already have.
Cheesecake244351 - Damn, you're starting to get awfully good at predicting EVERYTHING in my story. :)
MikeHoxBig - You will get plenty of those soon enough. From this chapter onward Azirra and Rotheimaak will share the scene very often.
Antianti12 - At the very beginning of the story I said that yes, Rotheimaak is the protagonist, but I also added that his main role is to be a companion to Nerevarine. Can't have one without the other, Roth won't hijack the main quest from Azirra. As for the other argument - sorry, but I fail to see how Rotheimaak is weak. Yes, he is relatively weak when compared to other dragons - that is simply the lack of experience and the fact he decided to have more of a support role in battle, putting less focus into combat training. He can still squash anything short of divine beings (such as Ash Vampires, those were buffed up in the story to properly reflect that) and those few mortals with amazing combat skills (a centuries old master wizard from House Telvanni, for example). If he could go all out and fight on his own terms, he would probably put down dozens of Ordinators and those guys are no joke.
Guest - Oh, it would take a miracle for me to be finished with the story in 2020 (unless I'll get inspired by something like I've never been before). With me updating every three weeks I would write 15+ chapters in a year. I guess the story will end up 50 chapters long.
Nosferatu2255 - Rotheimaak will definitely create new shouts, he pretty much picked the name he did just so that he would be more successful in this job. It will be mostly utility shouts, canon shouts already have brute force covered. As for Azirra in Akavir, I plan to add a certain important scene in regard to that subject, so for now I will stay silent.
Let's get back into the story. It's about time we finally join two storylines. Not much action in this chapter, that comes next.
She was dreaming. Suddenly she knew this for sure.
She remembered... It wasn't the first time. Third... No, fourth. Fourth time Sharmat was talking to her in her dreams.
Azirra's fists clenched. This time, unlike in previous ones, she felt stronger. She could move. She could fight. She could kill.
But so could He.
"Lord Nerevar Indoril, Hai Resdaynia!"
She swiveled around. A short distance away proudly stood Sharmat. Well, almost. With new fire she found within herself Azirra could see past the deception and front He put up. He nailed being proud, yes. But standing? Oh no, he wasn't standing. Her tormentor was hanging in the black void, much like her. Not as a superior, but an equal.
She didn't answer to the greeting and instead let him continue.
"Long forgotten, forged anew! Three belied you, three betrayed you! One you betrayed was three times true!"
It stung. It shouldn't, as she didn't understand what he meant, but it did. She couldn't help but unsheathe her claws. They pierced her own, grey skin.
"Lord Voryn Dagoth, Dagoth Ur, steadfast liegeman, faithful friend, bids you come and climb Red Mountain!"
Lies, lies, lies... It's a trap. He attacked Nerevar, he hurt Nerevar. He had no intention of trusting him again. He wanted to choke the traitor to death... he paused. Why for a moment he thought about shredding him with his nails?
"Beneath Red Mountain, once again, break your bonds, shed cursed skin and purge the n'wah from Morrowind!"
Nerevar screamed, no longer willing to tolerate the presence of a friend who turned against him. He gained clarity: they weren't equal here. It was his mind. Outside he was in power as a Hortator, inside he was in power just by being himself. Voryn was an intruder here, he was usurping his dream. And whatever Dagoth Ur might say, within this dream he was the Dreamer.
"You are not my friend, Voryn, and I won't fall for your tricks! BEGONE!"
Nerevar jumped forward and with a single swing connected his fist with Voryn's face. With a crack the mask shattered.
Azirra blinked. For a few seconds she was in a state of confusion familiar to anyone who went to sleep in an unfamiliar place. There was more to it, though. The dream, much like those before, was fresh in her mind, as was the feeling of not being... herself. No, perhaps it wasn't the right way to put. She felt herself all the time. That's what worried her. A Khajiit shouldn't feel comfortable with being a Dunmer even in a dream.
She couldn't help but shake a bit. She had a bad feeling in her guts that Dagoth Ur from her dream was not a figment of her imagination. Frankly, she had no reason to dream about him. She learned a bit about him, yes, perhaps too much - he was a scary being, simple as that. The fright caused by this 'Sleeper' of his certainly made an impression, but not enough to cause issues so many days after. And yet here she was, dreaming about the Devil Under the Mountain inviting her, as Nerevarine, to his home in order to join forces?
Azirra was only starting her magical education, but she knew there were means one could affect the dreams of others. It wasn't easy to do for mortal wizards, especially in a subtle way. She was certain there was no one she knew who would (or could) do that. That left involvement of widely defined divine beings. Daedra, especially Vaermina, were natural suspects, but that didn't mean only she affected the dreams. Given that Dagoth could somehow take control of people by putting them under constant dream proved that. If the last dream ended like the previous ones (with her completely powerless), then when combined with the thought that Dagoth seemed to target her specifically... She shuddered again. If that was the case, she would be rocking back and forth in fetal position, since once she fell asleep she could never wake up, trapped by an evil god.
She won, though. She - or Nerevar, the implications of which weren't lost on her - cast out the intruder from her mind. She had a fighting chance and, while still obviously nervous, Azirra felt the situation wasn't so bleak, if just her instinct alone was enough to defend herself. She still had to get some advice on the subject from those more experienced in esoteric matters than herself. While still pondering her situation she made her preparations for the day ahead, which would be most trying for certain.
Sadly, the clue of some sort of protection from Dagoth Ur also meant accepting that the Emperor might not actually be completely wrong with her being a reincarnation of Nerevar Indoril. The transition in her dream seemed so easy to her, so real. If so, this task for Caius might eventually lead her to one massive clusterfuck that involves artifacts, politics and religion at the same time. The worst kind of mess one can imagine. Wars were fought for each of those subjects separately.
Azirra lifted the flap of her yurt and peered outside. The dawn was approaching, given the golden hue of the sky. Some of the tribals were already up and about. Not exactly surprising, the rhythm of life away from the city was bound to be closer to the cycle of the sun. Azirra emerged from the yurt and stretched.
"BOO!"
She yelped and jumped to the side. That had an unfortunate effect of making her slip on a rock and fall to the ground. She glared at one of the banes of her existence, which was now chuckling.
"What gives?!" she snapped.
"You not noticing me even though I was kriist right next to the yurt. I'm not exactly hard to miss," pointed out Rotheimaak. "Now at least you are truly awake, kro. You're welcome."
He couldn't help himself, really. How often one didn't notice a dragon just two meters away from them? His new race ruined his chances of ever feeling like a ninja - any chance of subtlety in his physical actions was gone the moment he gained a few hundred kilograms in his transformation. It just felt good to be able to sneak up on someone, as if nothing had changed.
"You're welcome?! You are a dick, that's what you are! Who does things like that?!"
Rotheimaak frowned, a spark of anger lighting up in him, but was as quickly snuffed out by him. Sometimes his new draconic temper was getting to him.
"...You are right, it was immature of me. I'm sorry. I admit I have a bad habit of causing a little grief for others for no reason at all. Being a dragon is a constant grah, battle, and sometimes I can't help but act on my nature. My reyliik is vindictive by nature. Apologies, mage."
Sure, dragons were vindictive and he acted on his nature. Those obviously weren't the same. He was quicker to anger than before the change, but him being a troll and a bit of an asshole was hardly new.
The Khajiit didn't seem particularly impressed.
"You forgot my name, didn't you."
"Actually, I didn't." How would he? Name wasn't all that difficult and he expected to spend a lot of time with her. "Hi Azirra, vahzah?"
"...Yes." Given how he worded it, it was clearly a question to confirm he had it right. She paused and relaxed her pose a bit. "I'm sorry too for exploding like this. Not much sleep last night."
"Yes, I heard it sometimes happens to mortals."
She looked at him with a visible surprise.
"Dragons don't sleep?"
"We can, but only when we are truly exhausted. Only then we can hahnu, dream. Otherwise we are in dream-like state in which our instincts still work and we can instantly regain full consciousness at any moment. Nii pruzah qah."
Rotheimaak didn't miss the signs of concentration from Nerevarine. May the primitive and obvious expressions from Oblivion be blessed, he actually could read a face so much different from that of a human!
"Do you know a lot about dreams as a sage?"
The question made him pause. He didn't expect that.
"Dreams... Wait, do you mean you have prophetic dreams or..." It suddenly dawned on him. Of course, that did happen in the story. "Are the dreams about Dagoth Ur?"
"...How did you know?"
I bought a game on a sale.
"You are hardly the first person to be affected by him. Dagoth Ur wants to seduce the people of Morrowind with a promise of power and immortality. Pay no attention to him - he is a liar like many others, his trick is simply a bit more advanced. You're the master of your own hahdrim, don't let him convince you otherwise. If you want advice from a real expert, though, speak with Wise Woman once you are given permission. Normally Dagoth targets only the Dunmer, as for all his power in the end he is just another racist prick." He smiled at the mage. "I think, however, that he would make an exception for a reincarnation of his old friend."
She gulped.
"So it's true then? I am the Nerevarine."
"I have no idea," he stated happily, much to her confusion. "The chances are high, true. I was to return to Sahqo Strunmah when the time of prophecies was near, but that doesn't mean I can declare someone Nerevarine right away. That isn't my task. I mark the time, not mun. There is something special about you, though." He glanced at her features. Other than her small size (which was supposed to be normal for her breed) and thin frame (hardly strange for a former prisoner), she didn't stand out in the colorful society of the Empire of Tamriel. Green eyes and brown fur with black stripes were hardly unique. "It's not something as obvious as physical looks. If you forgive me, I must say you look a bit generic."
She just glared at him.
"Don't look at me like that, we both know it's true, you don't really stand out. It's not a bad thing either. Nevermind that. The point is, you give off a pressure of sorts, perhaps that of destiny. You also appeared where I knew Nerevarine would eventually appear: the dwarven ruins and the dunmer tomb."
"And how did you know those locations?"
He chuckled and promptly proceeded to lie.
"If you expect some nice explanation, I must disappoint you. I just had a vision of meeting someone important there. 'Someone important', while vague, can't referee to much people when it comes to me. The laas, life, of a dragon is simple. We dominate everything around us: people, land..."
"Conversation," interjected Azirra teasingly. He grinned, which, given his many sharp teeth, made the agent's own smirk a bit more forced.
Oh goodie, she can bite too! This is a start of a beautiful friendship!
"Yes, conversation too! Because of that mindset there aren't many we consider truly important. Another dovah perhaps or a significant deyra. Dragons don't care about mortal leaders, while mortal warriors are mostly just a more challenging prey. The only ones we could pay attention to are Heroes, the ones who are free to truly forge their own path. You obviously aren't of aedric or daedric origin, so that leaves only the third option."
The mage frowned.
"Me? A Hero? I do try to do some good from time to time, but I wouldn't call myself particularly heroic."
"You misunderstand. Merely acting heroically makes you only a hero, not the Hero. That's a Hero with capital H, a Hun. They are different. They don't have to even act good - they are simply truly free to do what they want. Normal jorre are completely bound to destiny. Heroes are restricted only by the prophecy they are linked to. They tend to quickly gain power - both personal and political." He couldn't help but laugh at this point. Just thinking about his last Skyrim playthrough improved his mood. "Why, every time they join some bigger organization sooner or later they end up as its leader as long as they want it. It's hilarious."
"Wait, wait, hold on! You say I'm that kind of person? I don't think you have actually met me. Just a month ago I was a prisoner without any status."
"And today?"
That made her pause. Rotheimaak continued to push his argument.
"You mentioned last time that you joined Mages Guild. Tell me, are you still on the lowest rank, as anyone who joined so recently should be?"
This was a bit of a hazard on his part. It could be the case - perhaps quick ascension in the ranks wasn't actually part of the lore, but low realism of the game. In the end though he decided to take the risk, as it seemed to fit in with the idea of a doom-driven hero. Azirra's hesitation in answering him was an answer in itself.
"See? You advanced faster. Hin balaan pruzaan."
"I took some high risk jobs, it's to be expected," she finally said.
"Alright. Then I assume that old man, Cosades, never promoted you? Trust is important in his job and you are a new element."
"He did... a few times in fact," slowly admitted Azirra, but shortly after she dismissed that as well. "Doesn't mean much, though. I was new, but he received a letter directly from..." she paused there. Rotheimaak only smiled, knowing what she intended to say before she realized saying Uriel Septim's name in Ashlander camp was very, very stupid. "...from the very top that I was to be eventually informed of everything."
"Not the same as trusting someone, but if you say so. Either way, you advanced quickly in the fields you focused on. Zabamund told me about your little fight yesterday. I'm not really a warrior when compared to others of my kind, but I trust his evaluation and he said you did quite well. That's an improvement from our first meeting, isn't it?"
Much to Rotheimaak's joy, it seemed cartoon physics had some hold on the world of Elder Scrolls - he could clearly see her blushing despite the fur.
"You will just keep reminding this, won't you?"
"Only a little bit." His grin could be described only as 'impish'. "It's not everyday someone just goes away into the swamp while screaming in panic."
"You did toss a dead body at my feet," stated defensively the mage.
"Er, no? I was literal when I said it was raining elves. I didn't do anything to cause that."
She just stared at him.
"Zu'u vaat, I swear. He just kind of fell from the clouds when I was flying by. Maybe he was levitating with magic and run out of lah." He shook his head. "Anyway, we talk and talk, but I still didn't tell you why I'm here. The Ashkhan, Sul-Matuul, will meet you as soon as he returns to his yurt. Zabamund asked me to inform you."
"Why you specifically?"
"The most logical guess would be that he wanted the two of us to have a heart to heart. You are supposed to be a reincarnation of an old friend and all that. Personally? I just think he secretly ships us."
The groan of pained confusion that answered him only made him smile wider. It was truly a mystery why the only 'friend' he managed to keep was Jerry, he was so fun to be around.
"But really, I do want to learn more about you."
The Khajiit just shook her head, most likely wondering at which point her life went so horribly wrong.
"There's something I would like you to answer me first, Thunder-Lizard."
He narrowed his eyes.
Is she suppressing a smile?
"Don't. Call me. That," he stated calmly, but clearly. "What is your question?"
"Am I anything like Nerevar Indoril? In character, I mean."
Well crap. I have no proper answer for that.
"How to put this..."
Obviously I should be as honest as possible, since Urshilaku already know I don't remember Nerevar, but I should put in some effort to make me look really disturbed about the difference between my memories and historical events. Won't be hard, I am a bit concerned about this divergence from canon story. Rotheimaak gave a thoughtful pause with a neutral expression.
"I'll share with you a secret I haven't mentioned to anyone but Sul-Matuul and Nibani Maesa, since you would find out anyway. I don't remember Nerevar."
That just puzzled the Khajiit.
"I suppose it was a lot of time, but did you really forgot your own friend?"
"It's not like that. What I remember doesn't match up with the events on Red Mountain. At all. You apparently already know the version from history books: I appeared out of nowhere, helped Hortator defeat the dwarves and disappeared after his death. I remember nothing of this. I don't remember even being active in that period of history. I've discussed this with others and we are no closer to finding an answer."
The agent clearly wasn't dim-witted, as she instantly spotted a hole in his story. One he fortunately already had an excuse for - better yet, it was a pure truth.
"If you don't remember even being involved back then, then why are you now? As far as you knew, you had nothing to do with the subject."
"I already told you before that the life of a dragon can be both boring and long. Unlike others I don't find battle itself interesting enough, I need to challenge more than my body to feel entertained. The tales of Heroes are interesting enough, so I tend to follow those events. Imagine my surprise when I found my name in qostiid, prophecy, I was looking into just to kill time."
Azirra had a look as if she bit into a lemon. Or better yet, as if Rotheimaak shoved said lemon into her mouth.
"I don't have to imagine that. It happened to me."
The dragon was just about to ask her about what exactly happened since their last meeting (Zabamund did mention something about a dremora, he was very curious), but he spotted Sul-Matuul approaching the center of the encampment, where five yurts were joined under a single 'roof'.
"It seems we run out of time, the Ashkhan is back."
"The one with enchanted armor?"
"Correct. We will have to continue our talk later. Go on, don't keep him waiting. A word of advice: don't let him intimidate you, he likes to act aloof to strangers."
Azirra merely nodded and followed the Ashkhan. Rotheimaak observed from afar her timid introduction to the point both entered the central yurt. He sighed.
"She's a bit shy at first, but she shows some spunk once she gets past that. Could be worse. I will have to make sure she eats properly, though. She still resembles a toothpick a bit too much for my liking. A toothpick won't kill a god."
Sul-Matuul was... not exactly hostile, but he certainly didn't greet her with open arms. Through her entire explanation on how she learned about the prophecies (omitting, of course, the involvement of imperial spy network), the only words he spoke was his greeting. It went a bit like 'I've been told you know about Nerevarine prophecies, so talk'. If anything, Rotheimaak had understated his attitude.
Once she was done recounting her experiences on Vvardenfell, the Ashkhan merely nodded slowly. The few seconds of silence that ensued in the dark yurt were awkward to say the least.
"You think you fulfill the Nerevarine prophecies. You wish to be tested to see if you are the Nerevarine." Sul-Matuul's expression was perfectly neutral. "It's simple how it works. No outlander may join the Nerevarine cult."
"..." Azirra couldn't sense an incoming 'but', however the hospitality given to her so far implied it would happen.
"If you were a Clanfriend, an adopted member of the Ashlander tribes, then perhaps."
Here it is.
"How does one become a Clanfriend then?"
"Normally I would hesitate to extend this offer to you. As the name implies, it marks those we see as our friends. A stranger who wants to learn the secrets of our cult is hardly a friend." stated Sul-Matuul coldly, but afterwards his tone warmed up. "Still, you have shown determination and open mind, not to mention there are other... circumstances. Listen then. I have an initiation rite in mind. If you pass this rite, I will adopt you as a Clanfriend of the Ashlanders. And then I will submit you to Nibani Maesa, our wise woman, who is skilled in oracles and mysteries, and who will test you against the prophecies."
"What does the initiation require of me?"
"To be adopted into the tribe, you must undergo a harrowing. In a harrowing, you will be judged by the spirits and ancestors to see if you are worthy."
Her ears twitched at the word. Her patchwork education didn't arm her with the meaning of the word, but she was still quite certain it was going to be about as fun as Caius' first job.
"A trial of sorts, then?"
"Indeed. Before the living of the tribe accept you, first you must pass the test of strength from our fathers. A test of my own father, in fact. Go to the Urshilaku Burial Caverns and fetch me Sul-Senipul's Bonebiter Bow. Sul-Senipul was my father, and his spirit guards his bonemold long bow deep in the burial caverns."
She couldn't help but flinch at the nature of the task. She already robbed one tomb (which is a prime example of how badly Emperor affected her life), but this was different.
"...I'm supposed to go to your burial grounds and rob the corpse of your father? You cannot be serious."
Only a careful observer would notice a small smirk appearing on Ashkhan's face for a second.
"Oh, I am. Had someone done this without my consent, it would be the greatest offense one could commit against Urshilaku. You, however, have my direct permission to enter the caverns. The catch is that only those who joined Urshilaku are recognized by the dead as permitted to be there. Return to me with this bow to prove your skills, and I will adopt you into the Ashlander tribes as a Clanfriend. The bow in question has three red stripes on its edges."
She nodded slowly.
"Very well, that is what I'll do. Where can I find the entrance?"
"The burial caverns lie to the south-southeast of the current position of the camp, a north-facing door in a little hill halfway between us and the slopes of Red Mountain."
"Around six hours of march then. I guess I should leave right away since the weather is good." She stood up and placed a hand on the flap covering the entrance. "Thank you for hearing me out, Ashkhan. I will return shortly with what you require of me."
"We will see. Farewell, outlander."
Azirra's eyes readjusted after leaving Sul-Matuul's yurt. At this hour, earlier than the opening time of the Guild, the entire camp was already fully active. The glances thrown her way were hardly subtle - in fact any Dunmer within ten meters of her was guaranteed to look directly at her. She knew exactly who made a show out of her arrival.
As it turned out, the duo responsible for this was right now putting up a show of their own. Rotheimaak didn't move from his previous spot, but now he was joined by Zabamund and, surprisingly, a bunch of Urshilaku children. The gulakhan and the dragon seemed to be reenacting (and most definitely overacting) some sort of battle. The blade used in this 'fight' however, Azirra noticed, was certainly not a prop. She approached the small group just to hear the end of Rotheimaak's narration.
"...yet no matter how fiercely they fought, how much effort they both put in, neither could best the other, for both had great strength." Azirra flinched when, instead of lightly connecting with dragon's scales as one would expect from a play, Zabamund without a care slashed the blade against Rotheimaak's snout. Yes, it was at an angle and the lizard had the best natural armor in the world, but it still called into question the intelligence of actors, when one happily tried to cut up the face of the other.
Rotheimaak's retaliation was only slightly better - he turned sideways and swung his tail in place where only a second earlier was Dunmer's head.
"However Thunder-Lizard," here the dragon snapped his jaws shut a few inches from the speaker's face, making Zabamund stumble backwards. Azirra had a vague feeling it wasn't part of the script. "...was aware the cruel Erabenimsun was proud and overconfident. Where strength would not work, the guile had to."
"Foolish killer was eager to land a killing blow as soon as opportunity presented itself to prove himself," Rotheimaak once more took up the narration. "As I'm not fast on land, I had to make him move closer. Knowing this, I made a trap."
At this point the dragon stood back only on his legs. She knew her acquaintance was large, but with his normal pose - lying down on the ground all hunched, keeping his own eyes on the level of others - he gave an illusion of being smaller. Now, with wings spread on his sides and the length of his body now treated as height, he cast a large shadow on Zabamund, the same type of shadow he once cast on her back in that swamp outside of Seyda Neen. The one that blocks out the sun and makes your life flash before your eyes.
"The evil warrior let his pride guide his actions," said Zabamund. "Seeing what looked like an opening, he dashed forward, to pierce the softer scales. And that was his undoing."
Azirra had to admit one thing: this part was clearly extensively tested. The Dunmer walked up close enough that when the dragon tilted forward, making it clear he was going to land on him, even she was worried for a second despite knowing it was an act. Zabamund had enough time to retreat by walking backwards far enough that Rotheimaak merely forcefully bumped with his snout into his chest, at which point the warrior had thrown himself back, pretending the strike was much stronger. She didn't fail to notice the patch of ground he landed on was completely devoid of stones and instead was covered in sand.
After landing Zabamund remained mostly motionless, bringing a few gasps out of the young audience. After a moment he slightly shifted, letting them know the blow wasn't deadly, but made a greatly exaggerated show of not being able to stand up.
"And so, with the cruel warrior wounded and no longer able to fight," thundered Rotheimaak, crawling closer to his fellow actor. "I was able to perform an action the professionals call 'finisher'."
Azirra nodded her head slowly, not surprised about the outcome. The bite was the obvious choice of killing move, which Rotheimaak carefully presented by grasping Zabamund's torso between his jaws with only bare minimum of strength required to make it realistic. This kind of damage would be critical - even if the teeth didn't go all the way through the armor, they would most certainly bend any metal protection to the point a warrior would be crushed in his own ar...
"I'm gonna send you sky high!"
Azirra instantly followed Zabamund's trajectory with wide eyes after Rotheimaak flung him high into the air, much further than a massive elf in bonemold armor should be able to go.
"Send me a postcard from Masser!" added Rotheimaak happily. Azirra just observed, frozen with shock, as Zabamund reached the highest point of his forced flight (higher than the roof of any building she has ever seen) and started to descend, falling faster and faster until... he started to slow down?
The Khajiit released the breath she didn't know she was holding as Zabamund hit the ground not with enough power to turn him into a bloody stain on the ground, but only enough to leave a bruise at most. She could only guess that the warrior had with himself an item with Slow Fall enchantment.
"And so the last violent warrior of Erabenimsun fell, breaking half of the bones in his body covering everyone in the area in blood, cracking his skull open, spilling his brain all over the place..." stated the dragon in a way too joyful voice. Azirra just kept looking at him with her mouth widely open, but incapable of forming coherent words. Much to her horror the children were, instead of appearing as sickened as her, just plain cheering. "...and overall causing damage to his health bar so devastating that the public healthcare services would only throw in the towel. With evil warrior dead the old order that placed the tribe as yet another bandit group fell as well. And so the evil was purged from them, restoring them in the eyes of all Velothi." He smirked. "And all it took was for him to smack into the ground. The end."
Azirra just shuddered as those words were met with even more cheers. Ashlanders had the most disturbing parenting methods she has seen.
Zabamund stood up. Other than the dust which he was shaking off he seemed unhurt.
"Alright kids, I'm afraid that would be all. I must get to my duties and Thunder-Lizard must rest for a bit. I'm sure at his age he tired himself out with this little story."
The dragon looked at him with feigned (?) hurt. Around him the children just groaned at the end of their entertainment.
"Are you calling me old?" whined Rotheimaak.
"When you were born again?"
"At the beginning of the universe, as part of Akatosh," answered promptly Rotheimaak while their audience started to leave. "That however has nothing to do with this! Being wuth isn't about living for many years, it's about acting the part. I'm active, so I'm young!"
"By that logic my grandmother is young," argued back Zabamund. "...because she specifically wanted her corpse to be raised after death to guard her grave with an axe in hand. She's constantly ready for action."
"Bah, you're hopeless." Rotheimaak spotted Azirra and smirked. She could already sense an incoming annoyance, she just didn't know the exact delivery. "Oh, Nerevar Reborn! Good to see you again!" Much to Azirra's embarrassment children instantly paused and turned towards her. She suppressed an urge to groan as she saw on their faces the same look they gave two clowns during their little act. "I presume the Ashkhan already gave you your first heyv?"
She wished she had the foresight to once more wrap up her head in the cloth - there was no sandstorm to defend against, but it would serve well to hide her face. She was a former beggar, she had no idea how to deal with a bunch of kids looking at her as if she was the hero from the fairytales told to them by their mothers before sleep... now that she thought about it, she realized with dread that it was most likely the case!
It speaks a lot about a person that, when faced with a choice of confronting either a dragon or a group of children, they pick the first option.
"Yes, he did. Can I speak with you before moving out?" She could spot one of the younger twerps pointing a finger at her. She would actually prefer if it was a sign of mockery, which she was acquainted with, but the expression clearly meant adoration. "In private?"
The playful twinkle in Rotheimaak's eyes clearly meant he was more than happy to continue the talk here, but he nodded anyway and proceeded to move a bit further away from the camp. Azirra caught up with him quickly - she noticed that he was rather slow on land, his current pace just as fast as regular walk. The fact he had wings instead of front legs was the most likely cause.
"So," he started. "Do you have any reason to speak again so soon other than getting away from the attention?"
I really hate it when he just looks through me like that. Someone who constantly acts so foolish shouldn't be able to do that.
"I do. First though... what was that with Zabamund?"
"There aren't many things Urshilaku do for fun, they are simple people. One of the kids heard that I went and killed a bunch of more violent tribals of Erabenimsun, so that they would stop attacking innocent travelers. It's... kind of true. I did that to clear the path ahead - as long as murderous thugs were in charge no one would be declared Nerevarine by Erabenimsun."
Azirra tensed slightly. Once you got past the initial surprise, Rotheimaak appeared to be just a goofball, a well informed, sly goofball, but a goofball nonetheless. Seeing him so casually mention killing a bunch of people, people who never wronged him, just because they were in the way... it made her realize he wasn't nearly as harmless as he appeared. Under all that humor was a mind that could be calculating and cold if he only wanted, no matter how nicely he presented his actions.
"We, as in me and Zabamund, decided to came up with something to entertain them. Since the last tribal had to be beaten in a fair fight, we decided to just reenact the duel."
She didn't miss the fact Rotheimaak spoke of fair fight only with the last opponent. Her attention was on something else though.
"Wonderful narration by the way. So fitting to the audience. Covering the ground with blood and brain matter... What were you thinking, telling things like that to children?!"
The dragon just snorted in dismissal.
"Oh please, don't be like one of those oversensitive pussies that made Disney tone down on the dark with lawsuits. That's just bitching for the sake of bitching."
She gaped at him in mute shock - such a foul response was hardly within expectations. The dragon continued, clearly peeved.
"Childish wonder is a great thing, sure, but one can't infinitely shield someone from exposure to the harsh reality. All those parents just didn't want to be put in a situation where they have to answer why the big kitty with a mane didn't wake up after the stampede." He snorted again. There was a bit of grim confidence in his words. "Life can be brutal, if a kid is sheltered, the shock they get when all those lies fall apart is so much worse. It's better if they get shocked with little things first before they loose something truly important in an instant." He sighed and seemed to deflate a bit. "Also, more often than not the kids already are used to the difficult concepts when we still think their minds need protection. Urshilaku know this. Their children hear the stories of great battles and glory, but also are told of dangers. Wastes can be brutal and the best gift an Ashlander parent can give their child is awareness of said fact."
After a minute of contemplation Azirra just shook her head.
"I do kind of get your point, my own childhood wasn't exactly perfect. I still think you are wrong. The children are meant to leave their childhood behind on their own, without being forced out of it by grim stories."
"Then we will have to agree to disagree." Rotheimaak shook off the dark atmosphere. "So what do you want to discuss?"
"You seem to be rather good at predicting were I need to go. Any advice on my current objective?"
Azirra would like it very much to prove Rotheimaak's shortcomings when it came to predicting her actions. She didn't like the idea of her actions being predetermined and she really wanted to wipe off that superior smirk from his stupid face.
"Am I right in assuming he sent you to the tribe's burial grounds to retrieve something from the dead."
Why do I even bother?
"He did. I am to get his father's bow. The Ashkhan gave me some directions, but they felt very general. I though that, perhaps, I could get... I don't know, a guide? Do you know the way?"
"Knowing the way is more of Ugandan Knuckles' shtick."
"Alright. Where can I find him?"
Rotheimaak just laughed, which only served to annoy her further.
"Oh no, there's no one by that name in the tribe. Just a little joke of mine, they tend to fly over everyone's heads since they refer to terms no one else in this era understands." Finally he calmed down. "Don't worry, you will find the caves with how simple is the path. It's all plains down there. It would take an idiot to not find the entrance and I've seen and heard enough to know you aren't an idiot. I can't accompany you though. It's your own task to prove yourself to Sul-Matuul, he already told me days ago to not get involved."
"So I'm going in blind. Lovely."
"It's not that bad. I have a hunch were in the cavern you need to go. To the very end."
"Because it's the option that makes my life hardest?"
"Because logic. It's the only place where Urshilaku regularly bury their dead. Urshilaku were already an old tribe in times of Nerevar. I don't think a natural cave would be enough to host all those urns, mummies, ornamental weapons and so on. They most likely started to mine once they started to run out of the space."
She gave it a bit of thought and nodded.
"Yes, that sounds likely. In that case Sul-Senipul should be buried at the very end."
"Expect opposition. As you heard from Zabamund even tribals like to put their own dead to defend their tombs. Just remember to not bother with normal weapons against ghosts, magic only."
"I know, I know, not my first adventure."
Rotheimaak smiled. She already learned that said action was a sign of incoming problem.
"So I've heard. Zabamund said something about you fighting a dremora. Care to elaborate?"
She snapped her mouth closed shut and swirled around to march off.
"I'd love to stay and chat, but there's a tomb with my name on it and only so little time in the day," she called over her shoulder.
Rotheimaak was merely grinning as she walked off in a hurry into the empty, gray plains beyond the camp.
"You do realize that now you made me curious and I won't stop pestering you until you tell me all about it?" he called after her.
"Get lost, Thunder-Lizard!"
And here we are, Azirra and Rotheimaak met again. I know, not much action. I just couldn't wait anymore to get these two talking and when I started, I couldn't bring myself to stop. xD
Next chapter: Urshilaku burial caverns.
Dragon speech translation below - this chapter had a lot of words that I can't get away with leaving without translation.
reyliik - race, as in people.
Hi Azirra, vahzah? - 'You (are) Azirra, correct?'; 'Are' in present tense is used in Dovahzul only to put extra emphasis, making things much simpler for us nerds.
Nii pruzah qah - It's a good protection;
mun - individual person;
deyra - daedra;
Hin balaan pruzaan - 'Your worth better'. Again, dragon language can be rather simple at times - here Rotheimaak states Azirra become generally better.
heyv - a duty, but one that isn't caused as part of a deal; refers only to those caused by morals, formality or rituals.