This next chapter is longer, and hopefully has more action than the last. I'm trying to sharpen the details and make things more interesting. Please read and review, it will help give me an idea of what I need to improve.

"Valdor, you say? Now that's a mighty queer name for an Imperial…" commented Olaf the Proud. "Heh, knowing the nomenclature of your kind, I would think you are in no position to talk." "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" The two had accepted a job from the Legion. A group of armed men was sent from Sadrith Mora to the Grazelands to take care of a problem involving a thieves' den, which was also responsible for smuggling illegal substances. As the Imperial Legion is much weaker on the Western side of Vvardenfell, the higher ranking officers had been pushing for more action.

The Legion's unit had probed Zainab Camp for a tip on the whereabouts of the den. It appeared the locals knew well of its location, and had also dubbed it "Pulk". Although the camp had been affected by the group's illegal actions, the ashkhan had ignored it, along with the rest of the tribe's leaders. The unit thought that a smaller, stealthier approach should be taken to secure the area, so it issued a bounty…

Olaf was looking for a job at the time, needing a place to supply his trusty axe. The unit had also heard from a tavern in Vos that a local Imperial would be interested in such a mission. The Legion had declared they wanted the thieves either dead or alive. The reward for their heads would be a hefty sum of drakes, and a local trader in Vos had just gotten a shipment of adventuring supplies (this had gotten Valdor's attention).

The Nord was wearing heavy fur armor, and carrying an iron shardaxe. His hair was long and white, as was his beard. Olaf looked a few years older than Valdor, but still gruff and dangerous, like many Nords. Valdor had come wearing adventurers' clothes, some chitin boots, and was armed with the silver claymore he took in the Sethan Tomb. He trusted in his speed to dodge strikes, but Olaf thought he was just mad for not wearing more protective gear.

After a pleasant walk, they found the cave easily. "Now remember Olaf, we should take these guys out quietly, and not like some war hero." "Falling for those stereotypes of my race, huh lad? We can do the job however you want, just as long as I get my gold." They slipped in the door quietly.

Hathei took a long yawn and closed his eyes. He began to think, questioning why he should be guarding the cave, "(Why must I do thisss? No one'sss bothered us yesterday. No one'sss bothered us last week. No one'sss going to bother us to-˝ and at that moment, the blunt end of Olaf's axe had made contact with the back of the Argonian's head, doubtlessly leaving him unconscious. "I'll tie him up," whispered Valdor.

They continued into the cave where they found a circular area with a wooden overhead structure. Despite trying to stay quiet, they had been spotted. Another Argonian leapt from the structure landing right on top of Valdor. They fiercely clawed at each other, but the Argonian seemed to be much more aggressive. The attack had surprised Olaf, leaving him hesitant, but he regained his composure and swung his axe carefully (barely missing Valdor) and into the shoulder of the Argonian. He tensed, and before he could yell in pain the raider covered his mouth. Olaf grabbed and pinned him to the floor, allowing Valdor to get out his trusty rope…

Incredibly, the whole event had stirred little noise other than the bandit's collision with Valdor. "You watch him, Olaf, I'm going to scout out the cave. If things get hairy I'll call." The Nord was left to watch the Argonian, and tried to help bandage the wound against his struggles. He thought, "(Now this certainly feels odd. Why the blazes am I even doing this? The Legion said they didn't really care what happened to these criminals… I guess even a Nord like me can't just let someone die needlessly.)" "What's your name?" "You think I'm going to tell you?" "You really are in no position to refuse." "…" "You know the Law won't treat you as kindly as I have." "You call putting an axe in me kind? Hmph. I am Gam-kur."

Deeper inside the cave, Valdor had discovered an odd, deep pool-like formation. He also managed to find a Nord in ringmail with a battle axe, a strange face tattoo, and a really bad temper. "Well, so much for sneaking." Valdor drew his claymore and locked the thief in battle. He threw a blow, but his sword was deflect by the axe, leaving him open. Quickly he shifted to avoid the attack, and countered, but the Nord did the same. They were both very proficient in their arms. "You know, your two lizard buddies just bit the dust." "WHAT! How dare you harm them! RARGH!" The Nord became very angry and threw the axe out of his hand straight at Valdor's head. It was very, very close, but he avoided death by less than an inch. The battle axe found itself stuck in a nearby stalactite. The trick had worked though. Anger had left his foe completely vulnerable, and realizing his flaw, the opponent submitted. He quickly tied up his hands and feet.

Olaf came as quickly as possible, as did the two remaining inhabitants of the cave: an Orc and a Khajiit. "Two on two, wonderful," smirked Olaf. From the top up, the Orc was naked. However, he was equipped with Netch leather greaves and boots. He also sported a large silver battle axe. Olaf knew this opponent was an even match for him, and true to his race, he always liked a good challenge to prove his power. That left Valdor with the Khajiit armed in Chitin. At first he believed it would be too easy- After all, it was his fine silver claymore up against a puny silver dagger. "(HA!)" he thought to himself.

The raider raised his claymore and charged, but the Khajiit dodged his vertical blow twice as fast. "(What! How could he do that?)" He thought that it was impossible for a well-trained rogue, born under The Steed even, to be out maneuvered by a simple, petty Khajiit thief. "You look surprised, Imperial. S'radirr would have you know that he was born under The Steed!" Valdor quickly regained his focus. "Then it appears we share the same sign!" He charged at his optimal speed back at S'radirr. But he changed his stance, dancing with his blade, and spun like a whirlwind at his foe. Similar to his axe trick at Sethan, he had become a spinning deathtrap so fast that S'radirr couldn't even SEE an opening, much less strike it. The Khajiit had never seen such a trick, and certainly didn't wish to feel its devastating power, so he sprinted away, almost avoiding the technique. Almost. The tip of the claymore cut his left claw, and in pain S'radirr dropped his dagger and held the wound with his other. Amazingly, no part of his claw was fully severed from the rest of the body. But by his cry, one could tell the pain was staggering.

Meanwhile, the two remaining warriors had given each other many cuts, some rather deep. Neither was letting up, or showing signs of weakness. Olaf hadn't noticed it, but he had been cornered next to the pool-like formation. The Orc smiled and charged quickly, axe raised and positioned to chop. Before he came in contact with the rushing opponent, Olaf positioned his axe horizontally, holding one hand at the end and one up next to the blade.

As the Orc's axe came down, Olaf brought the hilt in contact with the other and then pushed up. This locked his hilt with part of the opposing axe's blade. Despite the powerful shove, the Orc didn't loosen his grip, and in turn his body followed the axe into the air. This sent the Orc flying over Olaf and into the pool. His cuts had let out some blood into the water, and the two nearby slaughterfish had sensed it immediately.

"I can't swim!" "Moghakh!" cried out S'radirr, soon after gripping his own wound. Olaf reached out quickly in an attempt to save him. Moghakh had let his axe fall deeper into the pool. Olaf managed to grasp his arm, but the large slaughterfish had also managed to grasp his bare upper torso, and were gnawing into it. After a minute of tug-o-war, Olaf had finally pulled the body out, but Moghakh was already dead of blood loss. For a moment there was silence. The mission had almost been completed without death. Olaf felt his stomach churn.

"Why did you try to save him?" asked Valdor. "Why not, he had no intention of fighting, he let go of his axe." "Olaf, these are a bunch of thieves. Don't feel sorry that you let one die. They aren't good people." Olaf tensed his face muscles. "(Perhaps he is right. Why should I care?)" Then came the sound of many iron footsteps. The Legion's troops had arrived. Valdor explained the entire situation. "Good work here," said the gruff captain. "You two will get 2,000 gold apiece. Your work here is really astonishing. If you are ever in search of another good mission, just come see me in Sadrith Mora. We Imperials need all the help we can get on this side of the province. Just remember to ask them for Marcus Alura."

Elvish Mistress: Thanks for the review! The tomb is somewhat remote, and Zainab Camp doesn't pay much attention to outlanders, so Valdor can easily slip by without upsetting the Legion.

I'm going to be going on a vacation, so I won't be able to update for at least a week. Sorry for this delay in advance, but I will try to get the next one up soon after I return. Let me say that it WILL be plot focused, and not involve a dungeon.