A/N: Hello again!

Thanks for reading this little story and for the kind review too. I hope you like this new chapter. A bit of a short chapter before the main plot starts. ^^ We will see more of Kraid's past as the story goes.

Disclaimer: The Elder Scrolls V Skyrim belongs to Bethesda.

– Chapter 2 –

"Sometimes I wonder how I get myself in such… unusual events." the khajiit thought as he once again tried to find a comfortable position to sleep. That morning, he and Cicero were exploring the isle of Solstheim looking for dwemer ruins or caves that they may have not found yet, and when the sun was starting to fade they returned with their last finding, a strange crimson sword named Bloodskal blade which Kraid now carried along with his Wuuthrad. The jester jumped up and down along the way, looking eager to find something to test the new weapon.

Ironically, the "test" found them first. As if by some divine prank, as soon as Cicero uttered those words, a deafening roar of a frost dragon made them both stop dead on their tracks. The khajiit had to tackle Cicero on the ground to avoid the impending attack as the huge winged beast flew over them with its jaw wide open. Amid the cloud of volcanic ashes that covered the whole island, they stumbled around the desolated forest for a wider space with a better view of their enemy as the dragon attacked relentlessly with its ice breath.

"Come back here, you overgrown lizard!" Cicero shouted as he waved his ebony dagger in the air impatiently. "I wonder if I could make a rug with a dragon… Cicero thinks it would look really nice, but just a bit uncomfortable too." As if considering his idea of a new set of decoration, the man put his hand over his chin thinking and mumbling how the Night Mother might like his gift, right in the middle of the battle, oblivious to the sharp pieces of ice tossed at them.

"Don't provoke that thing Cicero!" Kraid replied desperately as he avoided another well aimed attack at his head. That dragon seemed to really hate him. It completely ignored the presence of his colorful and loud companion. "Huge ugly dragon with a nasty temper…. Yeah, probably some of Miraak's remaining pets." He thought when a shard of ice got stuck on his chest armor with deadly accuracy over his heart. Somehow, he could see that insane dragonborn laughing at his clumsy fighting somewhere in oblivion, or whatever hole that Hermaeus Mora may have dragged the cursed man.

Then the beast finally landed before them, raising a thick wall of ashes as its large wings moved around. It was hard to see a thing in front of him but he could tell they were near Tel Mithryn by the large silhouette of the tower not very far. At his side, Cicero laughed opening deep gashes everywhere he could reach with his poisoned blade as the dragon failed to seize him with its claws. Kraid saw a chance to strike back. Raising his axe high in the air, the khajiit brought the heavy blade down with all his might.

Apparently, even half blind by the ashes he hit the target, he could feel that the blade cut its way against the neck of the beast as it roared and trashed around in pain. When Kraid tried to pull the axe for a second and final strike, things went downhill. Or should he say upwards?

The frenzied dragon opened its strong wings once more and twisted its neck in a desperate attempt to escape and Kraid realized with horror that the axe got stuck deep in its thick scaly flesh. Soon enough he found himself flying several feet over the ground and holding onto his weapon for dear life as the dragon took off again.

He didn't even see what really happened, as he was quite busy glued to his axe and screaming bloody murder to whatever daedric prince that loved to put him under such suicidal probations. Truth be told, Kraid knew he was not the best nor the brightest dragonborn to walk over Skyrim, actually he had a sinking suspicion that he might be the most clumsy and plagued with bad luck of them all but never discussed the matter with the Greybeards. He made a mental note, if he somehow survived, to visit High Hrothgar for some… historical research.

In the end, the dragon managed to fly blindly over the irregular plains for a while and then it finally crashed over Tel Mithryn, shaking the whole tower and the earth with it while Kraid almost chopped his own tongue off as his jaw was clamped shut with the impact. Dizzy and with his once bright orange fur covered in gray ashes, the khajiit got up from the spot where he was launched, not very far from the apparently unmoving dragon. He tried a few steps but his trembling legs failed to support him. A terrible ringing echoed in his ears, his ribs were sore and the armor was a mess of bent metal and claw marks. Warm blood was trailing down his cheek, and yet he seemed to be in one piece and still breathing.

"Listener! Are you alright?" he heard Cicero's worried voice approaching but was unable to locate the source of the sound and his fuzzy vision didn't help either. "Cicero told you many times, I do the crazy deadly stunts not you." The jester sounded equally amused and distressed. "Poor Cicero would be really sad if something happens to his Listener."

"Don't worry…" Kraid told him while coughing, his voice hoarse with all that shouting and for swallowing enough ashes for a lifetime on his not so graceful fall. "I'm not dead yet… but that was awfully close."

As he limped over the large beast to retrieve his Wuuthrad, long forgotten on the half severed neck of the frost dragon, a slight movement caught his attention. Kraid did notice that it was still alive; he had not absorbed its soul as it always happened when he defeated a dragon. Yet he did not expect that it actually had enough strength to chew him to death.

The last thing he saw was the huge jaws of the dragon closing over his extended arm like a bear trap. A loud snap of metal and bones twisting together under the sheer pressure of the massive fangs echoed in the air. It was then that they finally had the opportunity to test how sharp the Bloodskal blade really was. On the down side, he was not so sure that his right arm would make it to see another day.

And so that was the tale of how he ended inside Tel Mithryn that evening. Luckily enough, Neloth was there and was willing to mend the injury and stitch it back what was left. It seems that the master wizard didn't even look worried about having the actual leader of the Dark Brotherhood at his house, maybe because the dark elf was quite delighted to have a new specimen to study so close to his tower. His only complaint was that he preferred a living dragon the next time. Kraid felt a bit bad about Talvas though, the poor apprentice was soon tasked to carry the heavy bones of the slain dragon all over the place.

Tired and with every bit of him still sore, even with the restorative spells that Neloth cast on him, they saw no other choice besides staying there for the night. Camping out there in the dark while the ashspawn frolicked around then was not a very tempting thing to do.

Due to the lack of a proper place for guests, he and his Keeper were relocated to the only relatively empty space, the storage room.

There was only a bedroll availiable, which he promptly gave to Cicero as he was quite used sleeping on the floor for most of his life. The place was dark, cramped, covered in intricate layers of webs and its owners too, as Cicero soon discovered a spider as large as his own fist crawling over him at some point. Yet these weren't the things troubling his sleep.

"Cicero…" Kraid said to the dark room. "You are sleeping on my tail." The khajiit stated rather annoyed as the jester somehow rolled all the way up to him. "Can you please move a bit?"

A/N: I hope you liked this chapter and feel free to leave a review.

Next chapter will have Spriggans, Lucien the nanny and Uncle Sheo joins the ride. See you there. =D