Chapter Two

Kliftar growled as he shoved his hands under his armpits, trying to get as warm as possible. No matter how long he lived in Skyrim, he never got used to the endless cold blanketing the land. Being cold blooded didn't make things easier; when he got cold, it was like all of his energy was slowly being sapped as his fingers and tail went numb. He looked over at Marandur, who was grinning and walking without a care in the world. Somehow she got used to the cold, though he will never know how.

His mind went back to the three nights before, when he was getting ready to head out. He knew it would be no easy task finding the Dovahkiin if he didn't want to be found. He thought his best bet would be to go to Riften and have a talk with the Thieves Guild. It was well known that the Dovahkiin had not only joined the Thieves guild, but he actually became the leader of it for a good amount of time before he went into hiding. The Dark Brotherhood and the Thieves guild conversed every now and then, and he knew some of their members very well. Seemed like the best place to start.

"Where are you going to look first?" He heard Marandur say from behind him. He looked over his shoulder at her. She looked curious, and he knew he wouldn't like where this was going. "Riften. Seems like the best place to start."

"Riften huh. I haven't been there in a long time. Sounds fun."

Kliftar stopped packing and turned around, hating that he was always right. "Well you will have to go on your own sometime."

She crossed her arms and smiled. "Why, when you are going there? I shall travel with you."

"You know I work better alone." Kliftar said, closing his pack and throwing it over his shoulder. He went to move, but she moved to block him.

"Yes, but you can't even call it work until find out where he is. I happen to have a couple of good spells for hunting people, and you are going to need help; It's the middle of winter, and you're a coward when it comes to the cold."

He glared at her, knowing she was right but getting upset anyway. Why can't people learn that no means no. "I'm going by myself and that final."

His mind flew back to the present as he glared at Marandur now. He did leave by himself; he is a man, or lizard, of his word. But she simply followed him, and that annoyed him even more, so he finally gave in. Damn woman, always getting her way.

As if hearing his thoughts she turned to look at him. She saw him glaring and just grinned. "Cheer up grumpy scales. Is it really that bad traveling with me?"

He just grunted and trudged on, starting to shake. He was just about to suggest they stop when he felt sudden warmth spread throughout his body. His energy came back at once, and his grogginess slipped away, as well as his frustration. "Now would be a good time to apologize for rudely leaving without me. You know you like my company."

He closed his eyes, enjoying the spell to its fullest. "You're the best Marandur."

She blushed and turned away, saying, "I knew that." before walking ahead. He grinned, walking with more energy in his step. As long as he wasn't cold, the trip wouldn't be as bad; it was a long way to Riften though, and he was debating whether he should stick with walking or hire a carriage. "Marandur!" He yelled, making her stop.

"What?"

"I was thinking that instead of walking, we should-"He began, but he stopped as he faintly heard a twang noise. Reacting as fast as a snake, he dived into Marandur, taking both of them to the ground as an arrow whistled over their heads. He landed on her hard, hearing the air flee from her lungs, and he jumped up, sword drawn and ready to fight. His sword was a short daedric sword with an evil curved point. He looked in the direction the arrow came from, and was surprised to see Thorin standing on a hill, walking towards them. He heard Marandur get up and hiss when she saw Thorin.

"What in Oblivion were you thinking bastard! You could have killed me!" Marandur screamed, flames beginning to sprout from her body like plants. She was a Dunmer, so she had her ancestors' fire, but whenever she was angry it activated by itself, and was a scary sight.

Thorin gave her a disgusted look. "Silence dark Elf. Kliftar was my target from the beginning; you would have just gotten in the way."

The flames double in size with her anger. She was about to let loose, but Kliftar lifted his hand, stopping her just in time.

"As much as I would like to see Marandur make your insides explode while inside of you, I don't think Mahargo would like us killing each other." He turned and glared at Thorin. "You have a petty squabble with me? Fine, we will settle this now. If you win, I will abandon this target. If I win, you will apologize and be on your way Thorin."

Thorin simply nodded, for once keeping his mouth shut. He got what he wanted; Kliftar drew a dagger with his other hand as Thorin drew his sword and shield. Thorin circled Kliftar, but Kliftar remained still, his eyes never leaving Thorin. Thorin lunged behind Kliftar, thinking this was a blind spot, and charged, thrusting his sword forward to stab Kliftar.

Kliftars style of fighting was very simple; He waited for the last second and then countered. Most of his opponents were dead before they knew he was there, but he still trained in combat, and had plenty of experience. When the sword was a few inches from his chest, Kliftar turned his body, the sword barely scraping his armor as it passed, and as he turned he thrusted with his sword as well, so fast Thorin barely raised his shield in time.

This was what Kliftar wanted; right when Thorin raised his shield to defend, blocking his eyesight, Kliftar lunged to the left, catching Thorin completely off guard. He tried to swing his shield around, but Kliftar was too fast; in the blink of an eye, he swung his dagger, cutting the leather straps Thorin was using for his shield. The shield fell to the ground as Thorin swung his sword, panicking.

The battle was already over; Kliftar easily evaded the sword and flipped his sword up to Thorin's throat. Thorin froze, knowing he had lost, and dropped his sword. Kliftar sheathed his dagger, then his sword, and then punched Thorin as hard as he could in the face, knocking him to the ground. Thorin looked at him, eyes wide with surprise and his hand holding his now swelling face.

"Apologize to Marandur and leave." was all Kliftar said as he walked away. He thought that defeating Thorin and making him look like the fool he is would cheer him up, but it only annoyed him. This was a complete waste of time and energy. He heard Marandur run up to him and continued on his way, hoping that this was the last bump in the road for today.

.

"What do you mean you have no rooms left?" Marandur demanded, slamming her fist on the bar top. Kliftar sighed, not as surprised as she was; it was the only inn around for miles.

"I mean what I say. We have no more rooms. Now either buy some ale or get lost." The Barkeep said, obviously not knowing who he was dealing with. Marandur looked like she was going to argue, but stopped herself and smiled. "Alright then, I will take my leave." But as she started to turn, she tapped a glass the barkeep was holding. Just as she reached the door, it exploded in his hand, most likely injuring him as they left as Marandur chuckled in satisfaction.

"Try not to attract too much attention; I would rather not have everyone's eyes on me right now." Kliftar said as the voices from the inn faded in the distance. "You are going to piss someone off and waste time."

"So? He shouldn't have been such an arse." Marandur said, shrugging it off as nothing. He sighed, knowing there wasn't much he could do. He looked around, finding a good spot to camp and headed towards it. Within an hour he had a fire going, meat cooking, and their sleeping furs spread out. Marandur took her meat off of the fire and took a bite, looking like it was the best thing she had ever tasted.

"Well look at you, a natural cook; I always thought Argonians ate their meat raw?"

"Ya, and all Khajiit are thieves, and all Dark Elves are dirty and poor." He growled, tearing off some meat and swallowing it before continuing. "Every race has plenty to say about the others, especially the Imperials and Nords. No I don't play with my tail, yes I have to tear a hole in all of my jerkins for my tail, no I don't eat children or swim with the fish. Any other questions?"

Marandur just burst out laughing, confusing him. "Only you complain about your tail Kliftar." She looked at him with her eyes all bright. Just as he was taking a bite she said, "But you got a good head on your shoulders and can cook. Now you just need a woman to smooth your rough edges."

He spit out his food, accidently swallowing some and almost choking on it, Marandur laughing the entire time. When he could breathe he replied, "No, I'm better off alone. No woman needs a man who kills for a living. I'm not husband material."

"I disagree." She said, and he waited to see if she was serious or messing with him. It was the former. "When I was going to disintegrate Thorin, you calmly stopped me, and then proceeded to beat him like an adult beating a child. Any man with patience like that is perfect husband material. And so what if all you do is kill? At least she knows you can protect her."

Kliftar chose to grunt in response, and Marandur shook her head. "Stubborn lizard. Hopefully someday you will open your eyes a bit." With that she lay down and went to sleep, leaving Kliftar confused and cold.

.

.

The next week was mostly walking. He decided to skip Falkreath and stop in Riverwood before heading to Whiterun to catch a carriage. It was a long walk, but they thankfully didn't run into anymore problems, which was rare in Skyrim. There were plenty of bandits and raiders willing to kill you for a few coins and the sword at your hip, so traveling with light numbers was always a risk. But Kliftar and Marandur were raised around here, and knew how to survive.

Kliftar sighed in relief when he saw the wall of Whiterun come into view. He couldn't wait to sit in a carriage and let a horse carry his scaly arse all the way to Riften. As they walked along the road to the city, Marandur suddenly spoke up.

"Before we go, there is someone I want to visit real fast." She saw his look and pouted. "It won't be long I promise. I want you to meet him too; he's a good friend of mine."

Kliftar didn't respond, and Marandur smiled, taking that as a yes. They got to the gates and Kliftar watched with sadness as they walked past the carriage and horse. Soon.

They got to the gates and were let in by the guards. Out of all the guards in Skyrim, Kliftar respected Whiteruns the most; they were not only skilled fighters, but were fair as well, never treating any race differently. They were the only guards to almost catch him the last time he was here; thankfully he had his hood on, and most Argonians look the same to other races.

He followed Marandur as she led him past the blacksmith and the inn. He almost stopped in surprise when he saws her started up the stairs to Jorrvaskr, the home of the Companions. He shook his head and kept walking; he had no problem with them, and he was pretty sure they had nothing against him either.

As she opened the door, multiple scents hit him at once; he had a better since of smell than human species, and he got hit with the heavy scent of dog; either they had a lot of hounds, or there were a few werewolves among their ranks. Knowing this made him uneasy, but he didn't show it, walking in as if he lived there. He learned early on that the more you stop look curious, the more suspicious you look. And when you're an assassin for the Dark Brotherhood, suspicion was something you just didn't need.

He followed her as she walked up to a big guy in steel armor, with long black hair and dark eyes. "Farkas!" Marandur screamed as she ran at him. He smiled and gave her a bear hug, something Kliftar didn't envy.

After she escaped the hug she gestured to Kliftar, who had chosen to stay silent as always. "Farkas, this is Kliftar. He's also a good friend who has helped me out of a few tight spots as well."

Farkas nodded at him. "Hello Argonian. My name is Farkas of the Companions. Thank you for looking after Marandur; she seems to draw trouble wherever she goes."

No argument there. He wasn't going to respond at first, but the scent of dog was very strong from this Farkas. He had never talked to a werewolf before, and his rare curiosity got the best of him. "I wouldn't call it looking after; more like I'm forced to watch her as she follows me." Farkas laughed, a deep hearty laugh, and Kliftar feared he would receive a hug. But Farkas turned to Marandur.

"I was on my way to deal with a small problem. Want to join along?"

Marandurs eyes lit up at the indication of mayhem. "Of course I will." She gave Kliftar a sly look. Kliftar just shrugged, not in the mood to argue.

They followed Farkas as he walked through the city, then out of the gates. Kliftar noticed the giant steel sword on the mans back. Big and strong. Usually slow and easy to handle...Kliftar was eager tosee how Farkas fought as a werewolf, but he doubted that whatever they were going to take care of would force Farkas to turn. Oh well.

Farkas finally turned and headed towards the small place outside of Whiterun called Honningbrew Meadery. There was a small man waiting outside the door who jumped when he saw Farkas.

"Thank Talos you came Companion. I was beginning to worry…"

"Fear not. The problem is inside?" Farkas said, unfazed by the way the small man was acting. The man was scratching at himself nervously. Looks suspicious to me.

"Yes, huge Skeevers everywhere. They will ruin me if they aren't taken care of." He pulled a small coin purse from his cloak. "Will this be enough?"

"Yes." Farkas said, taking the bag and not even counting it. Without a second thought he just walked in, and to Kliftars annoyance Marandur followed suit, skipping through the door like they were going to the market. Shaking his head, Kliftar followed.

The instant he went through the door he knew they were in trouble. For one, he didn't smell any Skeevers at all. For two, there were at least eight men sitting at the tables, armed for war. They all slowly stood up, grinning, and Kliftar heard the door bang shut behind him. A rat lying about rats. Who would have thought?

"Well, as a matter of fact, I do see some Skeevers." Farkas said, pulling his giant sword off of his back. "About eight of them by my count."

"I'm just glad you can count that fast." Marandur said, smiling and letting her ancestors flame surround her. Kliftar stayed silent, drawing his sword and dagger. He was waiting to see the biggest man step forward claiming to be the leader, but to their surprise a man not even five feet five inches stepped forward, holding a axe in each hand.

"Alright, I don't know why there are three of you, but if you prefer to keep ye life, hand over everything you own and the companion."

Marandur smiled and answered by throwing a lightning bolt, catching one of the bandits dead in the chest. He convulsed as it hit him and hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, dead. The rest charged, and Kliftar decided to take on the little leader. He slowly walked up as Farkas charged the rest with Marandur.

"You must be the brains here." The little man said, spitting to the side. "Stupid lizard. Oh well, you bleed just like everyone else." With that the little man charged him, swinging an axe at Kliftars hip. Kliftar dodged, stabbing with his sword, but the bandit swung his other axe, parrying Kliftar, then swung again, forcing Kliftar to jump back. Not even 10 seconds into the fight and this small Nord is a better challenge than Thorin. Sad really.

The bandit was skilled though, making sure to have on axe ready to parry, the other to attack. It was a good strategy, but it was nothing knew to Kliftar. Feeling the adrenaline rush through his body, Kliftar stopped, slightly lifting his left hand. Right when the bandit went to lift his axe, Kliftar threw his dagger hard. He saw it fly and catch the bandit completely off guard, sinking into his shoulder and throwing him off balance, and Kliftar stabbed, sinking his sword in the bandits' chest to the hilt. He heard the bandit gurgle on some blood before Kliftar ripped his sword out, sending blood flying everywhere. Another bandit rushed him at that moment, hoping to catch him off guard.

But it was no secret why Kliftar was so good at killing; because he enjoyed it. He easily evaded the blow from the bandit and got right in his face, smiling although he knew it wouldn't look like a smile. The bandit spooked, jumping back, and Kliftar lunged as fast as a snake, catching the bandits' throat, making blood spray him full in the face. The bandit fell, spraying the ceiling and walls with his blood before he died.

This wasn't enough. Kliftar heard movement behind him and swung around, swinging his sword widely. His sword was stopped an inch away from Farkas, a barrier stopping his sword just in time. Kliftar instantly lowered his sword, taking a deep breath and regaining his composure. "I apologize. Sometimes I get into the moment."

"There is no reason to apologize. I am the same way." Farkas said, grinning. Kliftar looked around and saw that all the bandits were dead. He growled and wiped the blood off of his face just as the front door opened and the nervous man walked into the place. Kliftar waited, expecting Farkas to break his neck, but Farkas simply grasped the mans shoulder and walked out, followed by Marandur and a confused Kliftar.

"So…that wasn't a trap?" Kliftar said, coming off of his adrenaline rush and feeling tired.

"No, that group had been ambushing travelers on their way to Whiterun. We can't have them thinking they own the road." Farkas answered, and then he turned to Marandur. "Thank you for accompanying me again Marandur. I wish you luck on your journey, wherever it takes you." Marandur answered by giving him a hug.

Farkas turned to Kliftar and held out his hand. "You can hold your own, and have earned my respect. Travel safely brother, and may you have a good journey."

Kliftar simply nodded and shook his head, never one for conversation. Farkas took his leave, leaving them at the stable. Marandur pushed Kliftars shoulder, smiling. "See? Quick and easy."

Kliftar growled and walked up to the man on the carriage, asking how much the ride would be and counting out the gold. He got into the carriage and sat down, making sure to move his tail out of the way. Stupid useless thing.

As the carriage set off, Kliftar closed his eyes, knowing that it was a long ride and trying to get some sleep. But he seemed incapable, and sat their brooding for the next few hours. As the sun was setting, casting light into their eyes, he thought he heard movement.

He grabbed Marandurs shoulder and shook it, waking her up. She blinked at him sleepily, trying not to yawn. All he said was, "Trouble." And she nodded, waking up instantly. It didn't matter though; All of a sudden the road in front of them burst into flames. The horse pulling the carriage leapt up on its back legs, jerking the carriage just as Kliftar had begun to get up. He was violently thrown from the carriage, hitting the ground hard and feeling the air leave his lungs. Just can't have a good day can't I?

He tried to get up, wheezing and hearing Marandurs battle cry, but something hit him over the head and everything went black.