One Shot 2: How to Ruin a Life
In Ragnar's mind, the bandits at Halted Stream Camp never really learned. The last time he visited, he had difficulty with the chief, but that was the time when he was just some cocky sellsword with a Steel Sword who was in over his head. In his most recent visit, it was either they took crossbow bolts to the head, or they tasted an Elven blade, or they got trampled by Shadowmere. In Ragnar's eyes, the latter method was much so painful he didn't bother watching the immortal steed step on heads.
Sporting a dead thief's armor, Ragnar entered Whiterun as the shops opened. He dropped his hood as he made his way to Dragonsreach to collect the bounty and head back to Riften. There was probably work that needed to be done for the Guild.
"Do you get to the Cloud District very often?" came the voice Ragnar wished he never had to hear again. Struggling to hide his temper underneath his usual calm demeanor, he turned around to see Nazeem yet again.
"Do you ever shut up about the Cloud District, Nazeem?" Ragnar asked, still trying not to explode.
"Never. After all, I do advise Jarl Balgruuf on political matters, not that a barbarian like you would understa-"
Before he could finish, Ragnar sprinted for the palace.
After collecting the bounty from Proventus, Ragnar's calm face warped itself with a hint of anger as he walked down the steps leading to the Gildergreen.
"Cloud District this, Cloud District that, Jarl this, Jarl that. Why doesn't he ever shut up?" he growled to himself. "Alright, I think I've heard enough of his shit. That obnoxious troll bait needs a hard lesson..."
As he made his way to the Underforge and through its secret exit out of Whiterun, Ragnar let a sinister smirk form on his face. He made his way to Chillfurrow Farm, a farm outside the city, which was apparently owned by Nazeem.
"And he doesn't even sleep within this specific property." the Dragonborn growled as he observed the area. He always heard Nazeem brag about how fresh the fruits from his farm was. There was one problem though...
"There's no fruits here. And he still talks shit to Carlotta about fruit. I'll show him." Ragnar grumbled.
Ragnar stayed within the Honningbrew Meadery until night came before hopping on Shadowmere and making his way to Chillfurrow. Ragnar kept out of the guards' sight, which was easy to do when not much of them wander the outskirts of the city. He carried a sack with him. Finally, Ragnar reached the sabotage point: the crops. As quickly as he could, he pulled out all the crops and put down something else...
It was a bunch of Namira's Rot and some troll fat. Ragnar buried them in the soil as quickly as he could before heading for Whiterun for the second part of his plan. It was all coming together morning.
Nazeem wasn't the jolly dick he usually is as he wandered the Whiterun market the next day.
"You're fuming today, Nazeem." Carlotta Valentia mocked.
"Very funny, Carlotta. For some insane reason, my crops in Chillfurrow were replaced for mushrooms and fat. It's ridiculous."
"Did you ask your little lackey about it?" Ysolda asked, passing through to Fralia Gray-Mane's stall.
"Wilmuth? Psh." Nazeem scoffed. "I told his ass to leave when I caught wind of it."
As he looked at Anoriath's merchandise, Ragnar walked down the stairs, still calm and collected for a Nord of his specialty.
"Did you hear, Ragnar?" Carlotta called out to the Dragonborn. "Chillfurrow's crops turned into Namira's Rot!"
Ragnar feigned interest. "So I hear. That's a shame."
"Milkdrinker." Nazeem growled under his breath.
Suddenly, as Ragnar made his way to Warmaiden's to barter with Adrianne Avenicci, two Whiterun guards walked up to Nazeem.
"Nazeem, you're under arrest." One of them spoke. The Redguard was even more shocked than he was a few seconds ago.
"What? Why?" he asked. "I have done nothing wrong!"
"Oh really? Show your belongings." the other guard ordered. Scoffing, Nazeem was about to show he was untouchable, but he was wrong. Suddenly, he felt something on his person. He pulled out whatever it was to reveal...
"Balmora Blue. Looks like that tip from Jenassa proved right." the first guard said.
"The Dark Elf bitch?! What lies did she tell you fools?!" Nazeem demanded, furious.
"There are no lies here, idiot. Now, move! You're going to rot in in the dungeons!"
Nazeem, deep down, wanted to fight out of this with whatever he had, but he wouldn't survive two hold guards with their swords aimed at him. Scowling, he complied.
Ragnar mentally smirked at the scene from afar.
"Well, at least the city will be a little more silent." Adrianne remarked. "Anyway, how many arrows?"
Temple of Kynareth...
"I can't believe he actually had such a filthy thing in his hands." Ahlam grumbled. It was the last straw for her. First, Nazeem chose sucking up to the Jarl just to keep his standing in check and now he was meddling in narcotics? Deciding she needed a break, she made her way back to the Drunken Huntsman, only to run into Ragnar on the steps.
"Good afternoon, Ahlam." he greeted.
"I take it you know about Nazeem?" she asked.
"I know. Surprised me." the Dragonborn replied.
Ahlam sighed. "Why did I marry that cretin? He never loved me at all."
"Because he never deserved you, Ahlam. He never let you experience the joys of marriage and instead chased the sword between the Jarl's legs, in a bard's terms, at least."
The Redguard woman chuckled a little. "I think you just gave me an idea..."
Ragnar smirked. "Did I strike a proper nerve?"
That night...
Ragnar woke up with a light pain on his head. He was rather sweaty, only to remember what happened. He took Ahlam to Breezehome for the time of her life. It surprised him that Lydia didn't hear what happened...or did she?
Ragnar wrote a quick note to the sleeping Ahlam before making his way out of the house, back in Linwe's armor. Upon walking past the doorway, he saw Jenassa, the Dunmer mercenary who lounged in the Drunken Hunstman. Smirking, Ragnar threw her a pouch of coins. The Dark Elf gave a knowing smile as well.
"About damn time someone made a plan to get rid of that loud oaf." she said.
"Pleasure doing business with you." Ragnar replied.
Riften...much, much later...
"So...let me get this straight lad..." Brynjolf started, hearing Ragnar's story. They were at the Ragged Flagon, having a couple of drinks. "You sabotaged his farm, framed him for possession of Balmora Blue to serve a lifetime in jail, and slept with his wife?"
Ragnar simply nodded and took a swig of Black-Briar Mead.
"In my defense, Brynjolf, everyone hated him." Ragnar pointed out.
"I'm just surprised you found more Balmora Blue." Brynjolf added as he downed his mead.
"Turned out, there was an extra in that footlocker in Solitude. I just kept it in the bags Shadowmere usually holds for me until I had a good reason to bring it out."
"Wait, you were traveling Skyrim with contraband in your person the whole time and not a damn soul noticed?" Delvin overheard them. He chuckled after his sudden question. "Nice work, Ragnar."
"Perks of having friends like you guys is that I learned to keep myself to the shadows and to ruin the lives of milkdrinkers with no need to get bloody." Ragnar smirked as he took another swig.
"I'll drink to that, boss!" Vex smirked as the merriness within the Flagon amplified.