Myths of Mundus: Dark Pilgrimage - The Silver Road

Chapter 6: Crossing the Threshold
Arlas froze on the spot, struggling to believe what her eyes were telling her as she stood, face to face, with the looming figure of Jorane Lorwel, who hovered just above her head. The creature was just as the Orsimer had described it, a mouth that was decayed to the point that it bore its rotting dentures at her, she could see his torn robes, that drooped over his skeletal, twisted, gnarled body.

The creature slowly descended down upon her, bringing itself down to her level, menacingly hanging before her as it drew in closer. Arlas had no idea what his intentions were and quickly found herself stepping back, readying a lightning spell in each hand.

"S-Stay back!" She snapped, though she didn't sound remotely intimidating, due to the shakiness of her voice. She simply stood before the creature, defiant as she could do little to nothing else in this realm, other than try to shield herself with what little courage she could muster.

Jorane was rather amused by this and simply laughed, folding his arms as he hovered above her, staring down on the Bosmer as he began to speak in his spine chilling metallic voice.

"Do not be absurd, you are in my realm, I decide what happens to you here and you only have two choices. Accept and embrace or defy and suffer, it matters not, for I forge your destiny." He informed her, sending a shiver down the Bosmer's spine. She knew that she didn't stand much of a chance against him anyway as he was powerful and... Well an insane Daedric entity. She, on the other hand, only knew a handful of destruction spells and a couple of conjurations, all of which Smiley here could demolish with one strike.

"Wh-Why did you bring me here?" She asked, lowering her hands and just hoping that she wouldn't have to 'embrace' anything too bad here.

Lorwel simply chuckled and shook his head as he, once again, brought himself down to her level, so that they could look eye to eye.

"Because you sought me out..." He replied, honestly, though many had sought him out in the past, this case was... a little different.

"Oh... Yeah, my friend and I were looking for you." She explained, quickly realizing that she had called Bologra her 'friend,' wincing as she did so.

"He... Says that you have a lot to answer for, after cutting off his hand." She added, hoping to provoke him into giving her some answers, without looking like the one that was provoking him.

"Does he?" Jorane asked, seeming intrigued by the foolish Orc's attempt at intimidation, considering how badly their last fight went for him.

"Well, he'll remain disappointed, I answer to no one." He concluded, bringing himself closer to Arlas as he slowly began to study her.

"What about you? What brings... You here?"

Arlas moved her face away from him, the stench of rotting flesh hung in the air around him and his entire face unnerved her a great deal...

"I... Came here to help him, help him find you, to get answers." She answered, plainly, trying to keep as much control over her emotions as possible as well as the urge to pull her head away and dry heave.

"Hmm... A noble soul? Or an advantageous one?

Hmm... It matters not, I can use both..." He concluded, slowly bringing his claw-like fingers to his face as he tapped the bone around his mouth.

"Use...?" She asked, feeling like she was going to regret this, still the Daedra had little to no hostile intentions at least, not as far as she could see.

"Yes... The Orc is capable in battle but lacks the wit and brainpower to do as I ask of him, I had hoped that removing his hand would give me more control over him, so that I could get him to do my bidding.

You on the other hand seem far more formidable and far more agreeable...

Such tactics would not be needed with you..."

Arlas swallowed, wondering what he could be talking about, it was quite clear that he was seeking a champion but Daedric princes usually seek out their champions with seduction, the promise of reward. Not through blackmail or by holding something of the person's hostage...

"What makes you think that?" She asked, finding that defiant spark again as she folded her arms.

"How do you know that I won't just tell you to go to hell as well?"

Jorane seemed didn't seem too angered by this response, as demonstrated by his chuckle as he slowly began to orbit around the Priest.

"Because I know, that you're better than that...

You know opportunity, when it is staring you in the face. You know the riches, rewards and power that I can offer you, for doing me a single service..."

Arlas was somewhat intrigued, his was powerful and was capable of a lot, as his Champion and Apprentice she could learn a great deal. However, that was assuming that she could trust him and that idea sounded incredibly Ludacris to her.

"What service would that be?" She asked, with some intrigue as she raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. Jorane could see that he had already persuaded her to hear him out and now it was a matter of simply luring her in.

"As you can tell, my power is great but somewhat limited...

I have been trapped inside this accursed place, bound to my own shrine, by a champion of Azura. She knew what abilities I possessed, the power that I had obtained through my many years of prostituting myself to Molag Bal and Namira. I was on the verge of shattering the shackles of mortality and transcending into godhood!" He paused as he arrived in front of Arlas and slowly turned away, pacing through the air.

"Azura feared that I would take my rightful destiny, of creating my own sphere of necromancy and corruption, earning my mantle as a Daedric prince and rivaling the power of both Bal and Namira. She and Meridia put a stop to it, appearing before a self righteous warrior and telling him of my plans.

He managed to overpower me as I tried to open up a portal to Oblivion, killing me with an axe in the process and banishing my soul into my own shrine." His voice escalated as he spoke, clearly still showing anger towards these memories, despite them happening so long ago.

He swiftly turned around and flew straight at Arlas, teleporting an inch away from her face as he got closer to it.

"They stole what was rightfully mine!"

Arlas remained silent, wondering how true this was. If she was telling the truth, there was almost another Daedric prince, who would have gone to war with Molag Bal and Namira and had taken their mantles. If such a thing was possible, Lorwel believed it to be so but from what she had heard about Daedric princes, they were immortal...

Or so they said at least.

The Bosmer slowly looked up, waiting for the rest of Lorwel's obsessive ranting. Thankfully, for her, he had calmed down and relaxed his body as he went upright again.

"I was... dormant... For so many years, eventually I awoke and found that with each passing day, my influenced reached new distances, within one hundred years, it had reached the entirety of Tamriel."

"Then why did you call Bologra?" She asked, finding herself to be in the dark still, despite his ramblings, she still didn't understand why the Orsimer was brought into it.

"The Orc was one of three potential champions, who I called to this place to see him demonstrate his skill, test it myself and to see the content of his character. I also called a vampire Lord and a Dunmer, both of which were easily dispatched. He proved himself to be the strongest but like a wild beast, he proved impossible to tame.

I took his hand from him and had hoped that he would return to me to reclaim it but when he did, he brought you." The Daedra paused as he  thought on it, wondering if this would prove to be an improvement to his plans or a burden on them.

"I require your assistance, Mortal, I seek to leave this stone prison and return to the world of Nirn. In order to do that, the Axe that slew and bound me must be destroyed!"

Arlas remained silent, wondering how she or Bologra were even supposed to accomplish such a task.

"How would we do that? I mean... Look at my arms, do you think that I could break an axe? And Bologra's strong but he only has one hand now." The Bosmer pointed out, prompting Jorane Lorwel to slowly lift his own hand up, conjuring up the Orsimer's, which slowly floated in the air above it, slowly revolving as it did so.

"A problem that I can easily rectify..." Lorwel pointed out, looking up at the rotating hand before cutting it out, by cutting the illusion out and lowering his hand to his side.

"To destroy the axe, it must be brought to my shrine. There I will be able to take it into this realm and destroy it, ridding myself of this retched place, once and for all."

Arlas figured that, that made sense, Daedra often made 'blowing shit up' part of the implementation and the solution to most problems, so it sounded about right to her. Of course, this was assuming that she'd do his stupid 'quest' for him and quite honestly, she would prefer to leave this place and never think on it again, leaving Jorane Lorwel to rot in his sorry statue.

However, Bologra wanted and in many ways needed his hand back, she also found the prospect of learning forbidden Daedric powers to be rather... Intriguing. If she played her card right, she could get Bologra his hand back as well as unlocking secret arcane knowledge, long lost or forbidden.

Still, this seemed like a great risk, there was nothing to stop him from killing them, as soon as they did what he asked. Of course, there was nothing to stop him from killing her now, besides the fact that she may agree to his proposal. She'd have to agree to leave this place but she didn't necessarily have to follow through with his plans.

"Okay... So you want me... erm... us to get you this axe and bring it back here, so that you can destroy it?" She asked, making sure that she understood, this somewhat delighted the Daedra, glad that he didn't have to destroy such promising champions.

"Yes, the axe can be found in a temple on the Cyrodiil/Skyrim boarder, I'll implant the location into your mind as you wake." The Daedra informed her as he slowly brought his hands together and a ball of energy formed between them.

"Bring the axe back to my shrine, in the Imperial Palace cellar." As he finished speaking, a staff appeared in his hands, a well crafted wooden staff. The staff wasn't in any way elegant, it resembled a bo staff, in its construct a tall but sturdy wooden stick, the strength of which was like dragon bone.

He telekinetically passed Arlas the staff, letting it fall into the Bosmer's hands, pausing to let her stare at it in awe as she noticed that it had several Daedric symbols carved into it. The staff was beautifully crafted, that much was for certain and it was something that wasn't achievable through human hands...

"The rewards for performing this task will be great indeed..." Jorane Lorwel added, getting Arlas' attention as she looked up, unable to get the dumbfounded look off of her face as she held the staff before him.

"And the punishments for shirking them will be severe..."

With that, he whipped his right hand to the left, holding it as high up as it would go as he charged a powerful energy ball at the center of it, similar to the one that he had used to conjure the staff a few moments ago, within seconds the sphere of power became a sparking ball of energy, which grew larger and larger by the second. Once it grew large enough, Lorwel swiped it, horizontally, hitting Arlas with it and making her explode into a clap of thunder, the blinding white quickly overcame and obscured her vision for a moment and then?

Nothing...

-

The white quickly faded revealing it to be the faces of several of her Imperial escorts and Bologra, all of which were staring down on her as she appeared to be lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.

The faces continued to stare for a moment before looking up and exchanging glanced, wondering if they should do anything. Bologra eventually looked down, looking quite confused and mildly concerned.

"You okay?"

Arlas still felt groggy, from the looks of things, she'd fainted upon making contact with Jorane Lorwel. She didn't feel like she had, at the time but now she felt incredibly groggy and weak...

"Uh huh..." She mumbled, slowly trying to sit up as everything dimmed and buzzed around her as her senses slowly came back to her.

Bologra knelt down beside her, placing his stump behind her back to hold her upright as she adjusted to everything, making sure that she didn't fall back and hit her head again.

"Yeah, well I'd give it a minute before you try standing up, you were lucky that you didn't break your neck the first time." The Orsimer muttered, giving comforting words as always as Arlas relax, leaning back against his arm as she felt the carvings of her staff lean against her hand...

Her staff!?

Arlas quickly grabbed the staff and held it up, resting it on her lap and getting a confused look from everyone before they looked to each other. Bologra himself even raised an eyebrow, looking at the thing in confusion.

"Wait... You didn't have that before, did you?" He asked seriously confused as he rubbed his eyes to make sure that it wasn't there. She didn't bring a staff with her, he knew that much and he also knew that Arlas didn't have it on her when she felt, since he looked around before she did, to make sure that she didn't hit her head on something or activate some sort of trap.

"Where did it... Come from?"

Arlas didn't pay any attention to Bologra's questions and the constant yammering of her people, instead she just stared at the staff, in the palm of her hands, trying to figure out the carvings on the side of them.

Various letters of the Daedric alphabet, warriors, fighting mages, a crow and several other images that she struggled to tell what they were. It was even harder when her mind was muddled...

The Priest slowly lowered it to her lap, staring straight ahead as the memories of the Shrine and the location of the axe came flooding through her mind, she gave the people in front of her a haunted glare as the information dawned on her.

"Jorane Lorwel..."

Chapter 7: Assembling the Pieces
Soir Aube stood patiently before the Bosmer as she told him her story, once again, he found himself hanging on her every word as she frantically recounted the events that had she had just witnessed. As she spoke, Aube examined the staff that she had been given, such fine craftsmanship, to the point that he realised that such perfection could only come from the Daedra themselves.

This was both fascinating… And troubling… Only the Nine could know how long this Daedra had been here, buried away at the center of the White Gold Tower, possibly corrupting its people. The Imperial thought that having proof would put him at ease but if anything it just put him more on edge, now that he knew that the Emperor was at risk of corruption.

“-then there was…

Nothing…

And I woke up, everyone was staring down on me, like I’d fainted and I had the staff in my hand, just like I did in the dream.” The Bosmer concluded as everyone listened in silence, dumbfounded.

“Weird… Huh?”

Soir broke his gaze from the staff before passing it back to the Bosmer, the Daedra had given it to her and he didn’t want to go against its wishes, they’d have to play along with it, if they wanted to get any closer to ridding the tower of its evil.

“This is… Most troubling…” He sighed as Arlas holstered her staff, looking somewhat concerned about his remark.

“Yeah, that stupid Daedra has my hand! In a… Dream!” Bologra growled, clutching his remaining hand into a fist and squeezing it as hard as he could, imagining that the puny Daedra’s head was at the center of his palm.

“So… Did the same thing happen to you?” Arlas asked, quickly realising that it most likely had, it would make sense as to why there was no signs of Bologra’s struggle.

“Did you pass out here?”

“Yeah but… After I fought him… I don’t remember passing out before.” Bologra grumbled as he scratched his head, trying to recall. The scene played out so perfectly in his head, he couldn’t remember where reality ended and the dream began as he couldn’t even remember the dream beginning.

But… Then again, he didn’t remember anything after he passed out, he ran to Arlas’ Hospital not long after…

“Actually, according to yesterday’s logs you did pass out.” Soir butted in, taking the ledger from a guard and opening it before Bologra’s eyes, so that he may see.

“You passed out at the front door, you and two others…”

Both Bologra and Arlas failed to hide the astonishment at this revelation, their eyes widened before they stepped forward and peered into the book. According to the log, an Orsimer, a pale Nord and a Dunmer collapsed outside the palace but quickly vanished soon after.

The Guards seemed to have dismissed them as drunks assuming that they got up and shambled off to a less important part of the city. Strangely there was no blood at the scene or any sign that Bologra lost his hand there, which confused Arlas.

Surely it would have left a huge pool of blood and a trail? Unless he didn’t walk up to the front door, maybe he was teleported there, after having his hand cut off, to ensure his survival? If that was the case, Jorane Lorwel most likely got more than he bargained for.

“If he can do this, then his next target could be a council member or the Emperor himself, he could even hold them to ransom. This requires drastic action to be taken, we cannot take any chances.” Aube announced, stepping forward towards the council chamber and spinning around on his heel, turning back to face them.

“I shall write the Emperor and tell him of what has transpired, we can’t risk his life, not now.” Soir began, though in truth, the Emperor was somewhat unpopular among his colleagues. He was somewhat erratic and inconsistent and often reined in by his advisors and therefore he was somewhat of an embarrassment, a time bomb waiting to go off.

Still, he and all other council members were bound to protect the Empire and the Emperor, by extension. Therefore, Soir had to put his own personal feelings and the personal feelings of the Elder Council aside. It was too soon to replace the Emperor, especially after the Assassination of Titus Mede II and how difficult it was to find a replacement for him…

Councillor Aube just sighed and turned back to the others as he tried to think of a plan in his head, honestly, he wondered how such a creature could be beat. It would quite easily knock them out and kill them all in their sleep, if they even hint that they plan to resist him. Of course, that assumes that they even know how to resist him in the first place. The only chance that they had was to take the axe and to use it as a bargaining chip.

If they held what the Daedra desired, then they could make the terms of a bargain and get him to leave… It was insane but it seemed like their only option.

“In the mean time… We’re going to have to do the Daedra’s bidding, so that he doesn’t see us as a threat.

Sister Arlas, you said that Jorane Lorwel implanted the Axe’s location in your head, correct?”

The Bosmer nodded, finding herself lost in the authoritative aura that seemed to glow off of the councillor.

“Do you think that you could make the journey?” He added, though he seemed rather hesitant as he didn’t feel all that comfortable about putting the young Bosmer in harm’s way.

“I know that I’m asking a lot of you here but he did ask you specifically… I think that it would really give us an advantage if he believed that everything was going smoothly.”

Arlas nodded in agreement, he was right of course, she and Bologra could easily travel there and back by week’s end. Considering that Bologra practically did that journey and more, less than a week ago, this should be a cake walk.

Well, assuming that Bologra was willing to go…

She turned to the Orsimer, giving him a smirk as she did so, knowing the best way to appeal to him, if he needed any convincing at all.

“What do you say, big guy? Are you up for some revenge?” She asked, snapping Bologra out of his trance as he snapped back into reality.

“Huh? Oh… Y-Yeah! Now you’re talkin’ my language!” He beamed, driving his stump down, into the palm of his hand, wincing as it sent pain shooting up his arm.

Azura’s tits that hurts!

Both Arlas and Soir couldn’t help but smile, finding something cathartic about his simple, brutish mind. Soir Aube always appreciated enthusiasm in his associates…

“I suppose that settles it, I am more than happy to provide you with any items that you think that you will need. Potions, armour, weapons, scrolls and soul gems.” The Imperial informed them, gesturing for them to leave the Elder Council chambers as he got ready to send them out on their way.

“I also wish that I could do something for your arm, Orsimer, though somehow I doubt that losing a hand will hold you back too much as you do seem like a resourceful sort.”

“Ha, yeah, it’ll just make my enemies underestimate me and then crushing ‘em will be all the easier…” He then sniffed and rubbed his nose on his right cuff.

“Hmm…” Arlas muttered, examining the stump.

“We should probably look into getting you an arm brace, that way it won’t hurt, if you hit anything with the arm.”

“Yes, that would probably be a safe bet, considering that it will be vulnerable out there… I wouldn’t suggest letting someone, who had just lost a limb go out at all but…

Circumstances are dire…”

“That and I ain’t someone, I’m a '''BlackBeard! We laugh shit like this''' off, any day.” The Orc announced, following a heavy laugh, earning himself a slight smile from Arlas.

She’d call it bravado but somehow, she could believe it, especially since that he was pretty much demonstrating how true it was here and now, by standing before them, just as antagonistic as ever.

Soir Aube just gave the Orsimer a smile, somehow he had the feeling that he would be both difficult and entertaining to travel with, he just hoped more for the latter, rather than the former.

“Sister Arlas, as much confidence I have in the abilities of both you and your… companion…” He paused, looking up as Bologra, who was quite clearly growing impatient from all of this standing around ‘bullshit.’

“Would you like me to dispatch a team of guards to accompany you?” He offered, prompting her ‘companion’ to step in, rather abruptly.

“No way Orb! Your tin men can’t fight for shit and I ain’t baby sitting them! It’s bad enough that I have to look after one girl, never mind a whole squad of ‘em!”

Soir was surprisingly amazed by the Orc’s overconfidence, though he wasn’t sure why, probably because it had come close to stupidity with that statement. He turned his gaze to Arlas to ensure that he wasn’t speaking for himself and that both of them were in consensus.

“Yeah… I think that he’s right, even if he’s being an ass about it.” Arlas replied, giving Bologra an annoyed glare before she continued.

“Bologra and I can handle ourselves, guards will more likely cause more trouble than they’ll avoid and we’ll move faster as a two, than we would as a group of…” She paused, realising that the number of soldiers was never specified.

“Well, a group.” She concluded, giving the Councillor a shrug, though the Councillor didn’t exactly dismiss their opinions on the matter, in fact he found them admirable and somewhat wise.

“Well, I take it that you’re going to want to tell the people at your priory about your up and coming journey.” Soir pointed out, understanding that she was still young and that her superiors would probably be concerned. However, the Imperial had faith in Arlas’ abilities and skills and knew for certain that this would be an easy trip for her.

Arlas nodded, somehow expecting that Father Lorius would disapprove of her departure, despite the fact that he had no say in it. Not only was Arlas an adult now but she had also been sent out on this quest by an Council member, technically making her an agent of the empire.

The Bosmer, in all truth, found that to be an appealing image, being an agent of sorts. Somewhat like the Penitus Oculatus, only not as subtle or deadly, especially not with Bologra following her around. That and she’d probably find it a lot harder to seduce or charm a target, given her poor people skills and strange looks…

“Yeah, I should probably go and tell them, we’ll be back later to pick up the stuff and then we’ll head straight north as soon as we’re ready. Hopefully, we’ll be able to reach the place by night fall.” She replied, somewhat optimistically, though Bologra knew the wilderness a little better than her and knew that, that wasn’t exactly the most realistic of possibilities.

Still, he respectfully remained silent…

“Good luck, both of you.

The Empire will truly be in your debt if you find a way to appease this Daedra and rid the Imperial Palace of him as well as my own personal gratitude.” Soir Aube informed them, giving them a respectful nod as his guard began to march away, getting to work on their plan for defending the Tower against Daedric activity.

Arlas returned his gesture before nodding to Bologra as well, she was ready to leave the Palace behind her and set off within the next two hours. Hopefully, she and Bologra could reach the cave by night fall.

“Good hunting!” Aube called after them as both Arlas and Bologra left through the front entrance and left the tower behind them.

Chapter 8: The Silver Road
It had taken Arlas and Bologra several hours to skirt the outer rim of Lake Rumare, though it was a long walk from the Imperial bridge to the Silver Road, it was a rather simple one as they didn't seem to run into any resistance. This was mostly due to the fact that Imperial Legion patrolled it constantly as well as the fact that most of the beasts that veered away from the wilderness were slaughtered.

Many animals were smart enough to keep away and the ones that weren't paid for their ignorance, with their lives.

The Orsimer constantly fiddled with his arm brace, causing it to rattle and creak as he constantly reached up and adjusted it. In spite of the fact that the strap around his elbow was a little too tight, he seemed quite tranquil.

The two of them wandered the Cyrodiilic country roads as they admired the local animal and plant life. Up ahead they saw a group of deer, prancing on the path, seemingly as tranquil as they were, until they saw how close the two mer were getting and darted almost immediately and cleared the path to escape the potential threats.

"Huh, pussies are afraid of us..." Bologra snorted, finally letting his arm rest before he wore it out, Arlas simply rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Of course they are Bologra, you're like... Eight feet tall and you're carrying an axe around your waist. I mean, most people would be afraid that you were going to eat them, never mind the local livestock."

"Yeah? Well, the 'livestock' are right, I would eat one, if I got hold of it... Problem is gettin' hold of it in the first place, they move so damn fast." He grumbled, going back to adjusting his arm brace again, resulting in Arlas reaching up and pulling it back down to his side.

"D-Don't mess with it too much, it might come off." She warned him, like a fussy, irritable grandmother.

"You'll be thankful of it when something tries to bite or hit your stump." She added, resulting in Bologra chuckling and giggling to himself as he went, shaking his head.

"Man... That sounded dirty."

Arlas raised an eyebrow for a moment before sighing heavily and shaking her head, thankful that it would be over soon. Well, provided that this cave was empty and that they wouldn't have to do much work to reach this axe.

The Bosmer's trail of thought was interrupted as she heard rustling up ahead, she stopped and raised her hand, frowning as she did so as she noticed that something dark was up ahead, lurking in the bushes.

Bologra reached down and drew his hatchet-like hand axe, slowly bringing it up as he got ready to strike it down on the little bugger, as soon as it reared its ugly little head up, it was dead.

"Erm... Hello?" Arlas called out, stepping forward and being the ambassador for the group as she found herself to be in most situations where she and Bologra had to talk to a stranger.

The being lingered for a moment before eventually stepping out, revealing itself to be a Khajiit in dark Cyrodiilic leather armour, with two daggers hanging off of his waist and a small pouch strapped to his belt.

The Khajiit was an orange Khajiit, with a large main, who placed his hands on his hips and grinned at them, baring his sharp teeth. Somehow, he seemed overjoyed that his target was a Priest and such a young one as well, this should be very easy.

"Ah, what is this? A little chick has strayed too far from her nest?" The Khajiit asked, chuckling a little as he did so as he stepped forward, stopping just in front of Arlas as he glared down at her.

"What will it be? Your money? Or your life?"

Arlas found herself speechless and more than a little startled by the Khajiit. Still she quickly composed herself, remembering who she was, where she was and most importantly, who she was travelling with.

"Erm... I-It's not up to me." She pointed out, rather nervously before gesturing back to Bologra.

"It's up to my very large and angry friend over there..."

The Khajiit just smirked at her before looking up, getting quite the shock. Behind Arlas stood an eight foot tall, approximately 500lbs Orc, rippling with muscles and covered in scars. However, the Khajiit noticed that he had a slight handicap, the Orc was seemingly missing his left hand, possibly providing a great disadvantage.

The Khajiit quickly returned to his sleazy grin before stepping past Arlas and approaching the Orsimer, seemingly not afraid at all.

"What do you say, Orc? Would you rather pay the toll with gold or would you rather pay with the girl?"

Bologra, obviously, was barely paying attention to him as the only thing that he could think, in response to the Khajiit's threat was I shit bigger than this guy...

Still, it was a workout at least...

"H-How about you walk away before he breaks your legs!" Arlas counter offered, hoping that Bologra wasn't considering it as he didn't seem to saying or doing anything in response to the Khajiit's challenge.

"Pfft... Like he wants to risk it? C'mon Orc, I haven't got all day, will I be leaving with gold or a Bosmer Queen?"

Bologra remained silent some more before sighing, this asshole was so asking for it...

The Orsimer grumbled as he holstered his weapon and slowly reached towards his pocket, looking like he was about to pay up, however, he broke away at the last moment to snatch the Khajiit's throat. Bologra held onto it, with a vice-like grip as he pulled him in and grinned in the cat's face, proceeding to lift him up, six feet in the air and throwing him against the nearest tree.

The Highwayman flew about ten extra feet in the air, kicking and flailing about before eventually coming into contact with a nearby tree as his flight came to an abrupt end. He bounced off of it and fell to the ground, landing in a heap at the base of the trunk, with an 'oof.'

Arlas was amazed and quite impressed at how far Bologra could throw the man, she looked back at him with a grin on her face, drawing Jorane Lorwel's staff as she rushed over to the Khajiit, pointing the tip of it in his face.

"Aha, you aren't smiling now, are you asshole!?" She yelled, beaming triumphantly as she prodded him with the staff.

"No, now you're... you're..." She paused and sighed in annoyance as she saw that the Khajiit had been rendered unconscious from his encounter with the Orc, resulting in him not hearing a word of what Arlas had just said.

"Completely out of it..." She sighed, lowering the staff and returning to her upright position. At least they got away without paying the toll or anybody getting killed...

"He dead?" Bologra asked, seeming a little shaken.

"N-No." Arlas assured him as she looked back, giving him a smile.

"Just unconscious."

"Shame." Bologra spoke, plainly as he wandered off, ready to move on and hopefully get to the cave by sunset or find something else to pummel within the hour. Either was good to him...

Arlas shook her head and rolled her eyes again as she looked over the sleeping Khajiit, holstering her staff and sighing as she walked away. She didn't think it right to take his money, given that he was probably desperate for money to begin with.

She slowly turned around and followed her Orsimer companion, almost completely forgetting the encounter as she went. She looked up at the sky and heard the birds twittering once more, they sounded a little different here than they did back home. It was almost just as pleasant, if it weren't for the occasional flying ant attack...

The two of them came to a stop as they heard the sound of wolves howling, not so far in the distance. From the sounds of things, the pack were mobilizing, seeing some form of unsuspecting prey on their horizon.

"We might have wolves incoming, be on your toes." Arlas informed him, getting little more than a scoff in return.

"Pfft... Wolves, yeah, maybe we should have brought all of those guards after all." He mocked, seemingly amused by her reaction to them, though it didn't really occur to them that this was her first time out.

"Whatever, I'm only watching out for you, in case one jumps up and bites your 'stump' off. You didn't have that much to start with." Arlas replied, giving the Orsimer a slight smirk as she went, resulting in him laughing a little too hard, he was caught off-guard by the Priest.

"Ho ho... Damn, they teach you that in the Priesthood?" The Orc replied, continuing to laugh as he did so, seemingly getting distracted from the imminent wolf threat.

"Nope, that was all Mages' Guild." She grinned as she turned her attention back to the road, however, as she did so, she quickly stopped and turned around.

"Ha, sounds like those dress wearing book worms know a joke or tw-" Bologra turned back, realizing that Arlas wasn't right beside him. In fact, his face fell as he saw her turn away...

"What's up?" He asked, prompting Arlas to turn back, with a look of horror in her eyes.

"The bandit! The wolves will eat him alive!"

"So?"

"So!?" Arlas shrieked, this time she was the one caught off-guard by Bologra's blatant lack of respect for human life.

"So, he'll be killed! Horribly! And it'll be our fault!" She pointed out, getting little but a look of disbelief in response.

"How?" He asked, with a shrug, still not buying into this 'risking their life for a stranger that tried to kill them' crap.

"I mean, he was the idiot who jumped us, hell he wanted to make you his 'Bosmer Queen' or some shit. You telling me that he's worth risking our asses for?"

"No, he isn't worth it but that doesn't matter. You might be comfortable with leaving a man for the wolves but I'm not, I'm going back to help him." The Bosmer insisted, turning back and retracing her steps back to where the bandit had jumped them. She paused, quickly turning back to give Bologra a final chance.

"You coming? Or is big, bad Bologra Blackbeard afraid of a few doggies?"

"Pfft... Looks more like Hard Ass Arlas is more afraid of the 'doggies.'" The Orc pointed out, folding his arms and rolling his eyes as he sighed heavily. He just wanted to get that axe already before he froze to death...

"Alright, fine, we'll go and save your stupid Khajiit boyfriend, if it makes you so damn happy." He grumbled, marching on past the Bosmer as he did so, knocking her to the side as his hulking frame passed her. Arlas just looked up to him with a smile on her face as the two of them wandered back to find the bandit or what was left of him.

Hard ass Arlas... The Bosmer thought, with a smirk as she picked up the pace.

Has a nice ring to it...

The Khajiit lay where they left him, still unconscious from the heavy blow received, when he had been thrown by a 500lbs, seriously pissed off Orc. By now, the sun wasn't as high in the sky as it previously was and it felt more like he had, had a nap in the afternoon sun.

Not a bad way to spend an afternoon but the Khajiit liked to nap on his own terms...

The Highwayman's eyes slowly opened as he felt an infernal pain shoot up through his foot as it was forcefully moved around. He could feel it, crushing his toes and jerking his sprained foot from side to side, snarling and growling as it did so.

Owww! He thought, though he was too dozed to say it, still he'd give this thing, whatever it was, a piece of his mind.

"H-Hey, g-get off!" He snapped, bringing up his boot and smashing it down, into the creature's face. The Khajiit's boot swiftly caught the eye of the wolf, causing its head to jerk violently to the side but not doing much damage. If anything, he'd just aggravated it.

"Oh... That isn't good..." He commented as the creature slowly growled and snarled before him, obviously processing the fact that it had just been kicked in the head as he built up a murderous rage deep inside him.

"N-Nice doggy... I'm sure that we can work something out..." The Khajiit 'bargained' slowly reaching for his dagger as he wrapped his hand firmly around it.

"M-Maybe you'd be happy with half of my food? Hmm? I hear that the heal grows ba-" The Khajiit's ramblings were cut off as the creature lunged forward, forcing him to lift his arms up into the air as the creature lunged at him, he plunged the dagger into the wolf's ribs in mid air as he clutched its side and swiftly tossed it over his head, resulting in the creature yelping and whining as it landed on the floor.

Its legs violently kicked around as it tried to pull itself up, slipping like it was learning to walk or walking on ice. The Khajiit rolled over and looked up and immediately grinned, this site pleased him as it told him that he had cheated death once more.

It was then that he saw it, out of the corner of his eye, the Khajiit looked around and noticed that he was now surrounded by two or three wolves, slowly moving in for the kill. The Highwayman's grin quickly faded as he looked rather crestfallen as he figured that, that would've made a great story at a party and now he'd never get to tell it.

Still, even if he wasn't exactly optimistic about his chances, he'd still go down fighting, they could count on that. He drew his daggers and readied them, getting ready for the wolves' predictable first move...

The wolves, seeing that he was trapped, immediately went in for the kill, one of them was slightly faster than the rest and got in first, however, the Khajiit was quick enough to slash at its face with his left dagger, causing it to fall to the floor with a pained howl.

Its brethren would have quickly followed, one of which leapt up into the air, going straight for the Highwayman's throat, only to be shot out of the air with a lightning bolt to the ribs. It to yelped as it spun off, down the Silver Road, its yelp followed by the almighty roar as several bounding footsteps approached the creatures.

The Khajiit looked up in amazement as Bologra ran over to the wolf, swinging his axe at it and missing it by inches. The creature lunged forward and bit his stump, which was thankfully encased inside of its brace. Still this didn't stop the wolf from chewing, fruitlessly, at it, even when Bologra pulled it away.

"Ha, stupid mutt!" He bellowed, driving his axe into the creature and extinguishing its life in one almighty strike.

As he finished it off, Arlas rushed over to the dying wolf from before as she quickly drew her staff, hoping to kill it quickly with a sharp burst of whatever type of energy this staff unleashed. She pointed it at the creature, whilst looking away, quickly emitting a powerful energy wave, that killed the wolf in an instant.

The wolf yelped as the Soul Tear effect of the staff passed through it, quickly absorbing its life energy and soul, adding to the staff's power as it quickly departed. Arlas watched as it fell still before sighing heavily, somehow not enjoying harming animals.

She then looked up and saw Bologra getting a running kick at one of the wolves, managing to boot it several feet down the path as he laughed, jeering at the creature and mocking its intelligence and might. She only wished that her attitude was the group's attitude...

The Khajiit remained silent as Arlas composed herself and looked up to face her, seemingly afraid to say anything as the Bosmer had forgotten about him. Still, she did save his life or it appeared to be that way at least...

"*Ahem* Sister?" He asked, trying to get up but slipping back down to the floor again, due to the fact that he couldn't stand on his left foot. Arlas turned back to the Highwayman as he rose to his feet, wincing and cursing under his breath as he did so.

"I... Wish to offer my thanks, for coming back and saving my life I mean, it was mighty generous." The Khajiit replied, he somehow always spoke in a sultry manor, especially when his words were directed at her. He seemed awfully cheery and calm for someone who was about to be eaten alive.

"Oh? So you no longer wish to make me your 'Bosmer Queen?'" The Priest mocked, remembering exactly what he had said before, she wasn't about to let that drop.

"Of course but now I see that I must rethink my approach, you are a much worthier prize to be had."

"Y-Yeah... I liked you better when you were a little more obvious with your creepiness." Arlas admitted, rubbing the back of her neck, almost regretting saving him at this point.

"Erm... Guys?" Bologra called, getting both of their attentions.

"We have a problem!"

Both and Arlas and the Khajiit looked up to see that Bologra was stood before a ten foot tall, incredibly muscular, slobbering werewolf, that did little but snarl and growl at the giant Orc.

Whether it was seeking a fresh meal or a meaty challenge, one thing was for certain...

They were in for a fight...

Chapter 9: A Clash of Titans
Arlas continued to move through the wilderness, held back by the great big lummox Khajiit, whose arm was draped over her shoulder as he hobbled along beside her. The Bandit clutched Jorane Lorwel's staff, using it to support himself, to avoid walking on his sprained ankle but it still wasn't enough. Bologra was way behind them, dodging and swinging his rock-like fist at the snarling predator, which was intent on pursuing them as they made their escape along the Silver Road. The Werewolf furiously growled at Bologra as it swung its almighty claws in his direction, prompting him to jump back as he narrowly avoided its aggressive attack. The Orsimer took one look down at the distance between himself and his opponent and burst into a fit of bellowing laughter as the Werewolf regained its composure. "Ha, teet licking mutt!" The Orsimer jeered, getting the werewolf riled up even more as it snarled and lunged for him. It raised its arms and threw its claws down, prompting Bologra to catch its arms or obstruct them at least as he and the beast grappled. The Werewolf attempted to bite the Orsimer's face; its large teeth barely missed, finding themselves inches away from his nose at one point. Arlas spun around as she heard the commotion and gasped, quickly finding herself worrying for the Orc's safety. She readied a conjuration spell in her right hand as she blasted it behind the werewolf. It exploded on the floor and shimmered, quickly taking the form of a majestic, fiery being that hovered a few feet in the air, readying a fire spell in each hand. "Bologra, don't let it bite or scratch you!" Arlas called, prompting the werewolf to turn towards her, finding itself distracted and giving Bologra the chance to land a blow. "I wasn't planning to!" He called back, as he jerked his head forward and smashed it into the beast's temple, causing it to growl and stumble from side to side as Bologra moved away from it. "Head's up might have been nice though!" He called after the Bosmer, who proceeded to roll her eyes and hobble away, Bologra had a very strange way of showing gratitude... The Flame Atronauch began to blast at the werewolf's back, throwing several fireballs at the creature and turning several patches of fur black and charred. The Werewolf snarled as it shook its head from side to side, quickly snapping it back to the fiery construct behind it, clearly enraged by its sorcery. It quickly turned around and leapt up on the atronauch, violently tearing it apart, ignoring the blistering agony as a fireball hit it chest as the creature desperately tried to prevent its fate. The creature was heavily distracted as the conjured being proved to be a major handful and the wolf had to put its guard up to evade several fireballs, aimed at his face. This gave Bologra the opportunity to attack with his hand axe. The Orsimer did not let the opportunity go to waste and as a result, he quickly charged in and drove his axe down into the creature's back. The creature snarled, growling in both pain and fury as it quickly whisked its head around. Bologra could see his reflection in the creature's hate filled, yellow, beady eyes and slowly stepped back. "Er... Uh oh..." He muttered as the Beast gave him a low growl, quickly hopping off of the dispersed body of the atronauch and leaping on his Orsimer opponent, sending him flying backwards, into a nearby bush.

Arlas continued to hobble onwards, hoping to find a place to hide, whilst Bologra dealt with the ongoing shit storm. The Bosmer was determined to get herself and this Khajiit to safety, though she had no idea where safety was... She looked ahead, up the road, for any sign of a cave or an abandoned mine or anything that would make a good hiding spot but surprisingly couldn't see anything. The Bosmer continued to hobble along, wishing that she could look over her shoulder and see what was happening down the road... Is he okay?

"Your friend...” The Bandit panted, slowly lifting his head, so that he and Arlas could meet, eye to eye.

“He sounds like he's in trouble..." The Khajiit informed her as if that wasn't plainly obvious, though in truth Arlas wasn't certain if he was. He was experienced and almost as tall and large as the creature. That werewolf may have just met his match... The Bosmer paused for a moment as she thought on it before turning back to the Khajiit and giving him an assuring smile. "Nah, it sounds more like the werewolf is in trouble. Trust me, Blackbeards shake shit like this off all the time." She smirked before pushing onwards. "We just need to make sure that we're out of the way or that you're out of the way at least. Then I can go back and... Help, if I'm needed." "Just a little further up the road, I swear that there is an inn up ahead!" The Khajiit insisted, his arm shakily lifted and pointed to a small wooden building on the horizon, prompting Arlas to nod in agreement as they hobbled on towards it.

The Werewolf pinned Bologra to the floor as it violently snapped at his face, he barely held the creature back, by tightly gripping its throat but he didn't have a good enough angle on it to succeed in strangling it. The Orsimer proceeded to punch the Werewolf in the face, not inflicting much damage and only prompting it to try swinging his claws at the Orc's face, hoping to finish him off that way. It was then that an idea came to Bologra, wasn't his hand axe still stuck in the creature's back? The Orc was unsure but even if it wasn't he could still exploit the wound in his back... The Warrior pulled the werewolf a little closer, now feeling the full-on force of its dog breath, causing him to wince in disgust. He had smelt worse breathe before; it was often the first thing that he was exposed to as he started the day, followed usually by shrieking, yelling or drunken moaning. Still, he could feel the hilt of his hand axe as it skimmed his pinkie finger, sadly being whipped away by the vicious dog on top of him. Friggin' beast...

Just let me at the Axe...

The Orsimer's hand lightly skimmed the axe two more times before eventually getting a light grip on it, which quickly evolved into a heavy one. "Ha!" Bologra cheered, triumphantly as he began to wriggle it, causing the werewolf's head to shoot up as it looked to the sky. The Orsimer then jerked his head forward and bit down, crushing the werewolf's trachea with his teeth. The werewolf gagged in response as its whole body weakened, giving Bologra the chance to throw it off to one side and quickly turn the tables. He grinned as he mounted it, lifting his hand axe into the air as the creature swiped and growled up at him. "Lights out, asshole!" He said, triumphantly before bringing his axe down on the werewolf's face, with an almighty roar. He repeatedly smashed at it with the axe, repeatedly driving it into the creature's face, his grin only growing wider as the squelches got louder and the creature got closer and closer to death.

The Orsimer warrior continued to drive his battle-hatchet down, long after he had penetrated the creature’s skull, not even flinching as blood and bits of brain matter flew up into the air and showered him. His strikes got heavier and heavier, until he eventually slowed them down and came to a stop, panting heavily as he looked down on the bloody mess that lay before him. The head, surprisingly, wasn’t completely destroyed, though it was beyond recognition…

In spite of this, Bologra felt it necessary to drive his hatchet down one last time, just to ensure that it was definitely dead…

“Heh…” He huffed, still out of breath as he slowly stood up, dragging his stump arm across his face and smearing the blood across it.

“I’ve had better…” He wheezed, clearly exasperated from the strength that he put into his swings, somehow the Orc got the feeling that his age was starting to slow him down a little but that was a secret that he’d keep between himself and his recently slain opponent.

After taking a breather, Bologra stood up, gently lifting the remains of the werewolf up into the air as he threw it over his shoulder, this was definitely something to show Arlas and that recently coughed up fur ball boyfriend of hers.

Arlas and the Khajiit bandit slowly approached the inn that he spoke of, they didn’t seem as though they were in much of a rush at this point as they had put a great deal of distance between themselves and the wolf.

The Bosmer felt less afraid of the werewolf and more concern about her companion, she had no idea if he continued the fight or was violently torn apart, she didn’t think that she’d worry so much for his safety but he did just take on a werewolf, single handily, to protect two people who may as well be strangers to him. She’d never forgive herself if he died on her behalf, especially not after she and Lorius nursed him back to health…

“Hey, you two alright?” A voice asked, getting the Bosmer’s attention as she slowly turned to see who was speaking to her. It appeared to be an elderly Imperial man, who sat outside the tavern on a wooden chair, dressed like most old country folk in clothing barely superior to sack cloth supported by braces.

He looked quite unclean but it was obvious that he did his best; he actually seemed quite dumbstruck that two exotic foreigners had wandered this far up the Silver Road…

“Your… Friend doesn’t look too good…” He added, the master of observation that he was…

Arlas moved forward, causing her Khajiit companion to wince as she moved as she tried to ignore the slack jawed peasant as he continued to stare at her, quickly pulling himself to his feet, so that he could assist her.

"C-Could you get him inside?" Arlas asked, breathlessly as she let the Khajiit go and he fell against the elderly Imperial man.

"My other friend is in trouble, I need to go back and..." She then stopped talking as she saw Bologra approaching in the distance, with a huge black lump strewn over his shoulder, in spite of its size and weight, it didn't seem to slow the Orc down one iota.

Arlas turned around and gasped as she saw Bologra approach them, slowly growing relieved as she saw who the clear victor was, both the Khajiit and the Imperial just gawked at the spectacle as the Orsimer slowly drew in closer to them and flung the creature down onto the ground, with an exhausted growl.

Arlas quickly rushed over to him, being careful not to stand on the werewolf's corpse as she examined the Orc, who was now doubled over and panting heavily. He slowly turned to face her and grinned at her, slowly pulling his back up straight and lightly chuckling to himself.

"Heh... Not bad, eh?" He panted, resulting in the Imperial's mouth dropping another inch or two as he slowly backed away and scrambled back inside.

"G-Geralt! Geralt! You've got to come out here, you gotta see this!" He called as Arlas chuckled and turned her attention back to Bologra.

"It looks like you've got a fan." The Bosmer smirked, placing her hand on her hip as she cocked it to one side, Bologra just laughed as he folded his arms.

"What do you mean a fan?" The Orsimer grinned, looking up as an entire tavern of people came rushing out, gawking at the spoils of Bologra's hunt.

Somehow, Arlas got the feeling that this would go down in history...

Chapter 10: Crovenhoft
Arlas, Bologra and their new companion sat in silence, shell-shocked by the day's events for different reasons. Though their table was deathly silent, the tavern was teaming with life, conversations, the gentle plucking of loot strings and the occasional burst of laughter.

It was a nice atmosphere, which was the audible equivalent of the glow that came off of the fireplace and the coziness of the place. It was quite clear that the tavern was relatively new and so, it was somewhat lacking in decoration, in fact it didn't even have a sign out front as the owners were still trying to think of something to put on it.

The Bard's melody quickly upped in tempo as he got into the piece and swiftly began to pluck at the lute strings, getting the attention of several patrons, some of which began to cheer as he got closer and closer to the finale. Arlas didn't really understand music, it wasn't really her thing and she struggled to figure out what the song was meant to be about. Though, in truth, it was most likely about his conquests, either out on the road against a lion or in the bedroom with a lioness, either way, she didn't think that it was worth writing a song about it.

The Bard eventually finished, with a final tug of his loot strings, resulting in a half hearted round applause from some of the patrons as he bowed to them, showering himself in their praise.

After a few moments of receiving praise, he turned back and grabbed a tip jar, slowly wandering around the room as he panhandled the patrons. Arlas rolled her eyes and looked away, not really wanting to part with her coin...

"Not one for the Arts?" The Khajiit asked, rather smugly as he gave her a menacing grin and raised his tankard, leaning back at an angle, so that his foot could stick out.

Arlas just scoffed and took a swig of her ale, which was noticeably better than that found in the Imperial City. It's most likely, because they have access to real grain here or maybe it was because they had their own private recipes. The Bosmer found herself looking back up to her Khajiit companion, seeing that he was still waiting for a response from her.

"Music just isn't my thing... They're just singing what the drunks are saying, it's hardly impressive."

The Khajiit laughed, heartily at that statement, her bitterness kind of caught him off guard.

"Ah... but it is, it takes real skill to make a drunken fist fight or a romantic conquest sound like an epic tale, sang by bards. Normally because it's hard to remember the details...

Trying to piece together the steps of a drunken night out? I do not envy them..."

As the Khajiit spoke, the Bard quickly rushed over to their table and obnoxiously shoved the tip jar in their faces, desperately moving from one group member to the other as he tried to find their leader or the one with the softest heart.

"Penny for the song?" He asked, placing the jar under Arlas' nose, resulting in her rolling her eyes.

"No, sorry..."

Still undiscouraged, the Bard put the jar under the Khajiit's nose, resulting in a disingenuous shrug.

"Sorry friend but I'm all out..."

The Bard nodded as he moved onto the next potential sucker, quickly placing his tip jar under Bologra's nose.

"Penny for th-"

"Piss... Off..."

With a stern warning like that, the Bard could hardly press on, not if he valued his teeth. He placed his hand on the jar and laughed nervously as he stepped away, quickly finding another table to annoy, who could protect him, in case the Orc wanted to settle any grudges.

Bologra couldn't care less about his 'grudges' in reality and was quite content with drinking his ale, which tasted too damned sweet for his liking but it was better than the stale piss that they served in Skyrim...

"So..." Arlas began, lightly tapping her fingers on the table as she thought about her next point and topic of conversation.

"You haven't told us your name, Khajiit..." She pointed out, gently bringing herself upright again and sitting back as the Bandit gave her a sultry smile and shook his head.

"No... But to be fair, you two haven't really introduced yourselves either." The Khajiit pointed out, quickly sitting up as much as he could as he composed himself.

"I am Nair Quicksilver, dashing rogue and wanted highwayman, at your service."

"Quicksilver?" Arlas gagged, quickly chuckling into her hand before burying her mouth in her mug as her laughs echoed inside.

"Go ahead, make fun..." He sighed, with mock disappointment.

"To be fair, I was sixteen when I came up with that name, so cut me some slack..."

"Yeah Arlas, it's not like you can't say that it ain't a true name, I mean when you throw him? He can move pretty quickly through the air." Bologra butted in, sniggering to himself as he finished, resulting in the Khajiit rolling his eyes.

Arlas looked up and saw his reaction, resulting in her doing her best to sober up and stop laughing.

"S-Sorry Nair... It's always good to know who tried to kill me or... whatever..."

"Kill you? My dear woman, do you think that I could do that?"

Bologra just snorted, pulling his tankard away from his mouth and wiping the foam off of his beard, with his forearm.

"Well, you were going to rob her... And then make her your 'queen'."

"I only said that to get under your skin, my jolly green friend...

In truth, I find there to be a certain allure in winning my potential conquests over with charm and through the clever use of subtle tactics..." The Bandit explained, slowly turning his gaze over to Arlas, who did not return his smile.

"Yeah... Well, this one isn't a 'potential conquest,' there's no potential as far as I'm concerned..."

"Yep... She's a Priest, so you're barkin' up the wrong tree." Bologra snorted, knocking back the rest of his stale piss as he chuckled, reveling in the misfortune that that revelation must have caused.

"A... Priest?" Nair asked, seemingly blown away by this as he saw it as an unfortunate tragedy, a great conquest lost to a life of celibacy...

In truth though, Arlas hadn't taken her vows but the misconception that all Priests and Acolytes were celibate was a misconception that she wasn't in a hurry to debunk any time soon.

"Yep, I've been a 'servant of the Nine' since I was a kid." She shrugged, checking her tankard and sighing heavily as she found that it was empty. She'd need a refill, definitely.

"Really?" Bologra asked, finding that it was his turn to be surprised, though obviously this wasn't as big of a shock as last time.

"Y'know... You don't really act like it..."

Arlas shrugged and leant back as the waitress came over and topped them up, giving them the same swill as last time, whether they wanted it or not.

"How... What do you mean?"

"Well, you swear a lot, you summon Daedra and you seem to hate being around that chapel. I thought that you were all supposed to be... y'know..."

"Boring?" Arlas asked, hoping to help him out and make light of the situation. In truth, she kind of knew what he meant, she wasn't typical among the other Chapel Folk or even among the other Acolytes. She preferred to be out of the chapel, getting her hands dirty and having fun, keeping herself busy and actually helping people to sitting around debating scripture.

"Yeah!"

"Well, erm... I dunno really. I mean growing up? It was a mixed bag, I liked practicing magic but I definitely liked Conjuration the most, I liked helping people but not sitting around waiting for people to come to me, I also liked studying and being useful, instead of meet and greets." The Bosmer shrugged, leaning back in her chair and sighing.

"I guess I just got a little too rebellious for my own good... I'm never called out on it but... You can tell that they expect me to be like them, which I'm not really and I don't really want to be. I like having my hair like this, summoning Daedra and helping people by beating  up other people...

The thought of sitting around, making tea for old ladies, makes me want to tear what little hair I have on my head out."

Bologra and Nair smirked but quickly fell silent, watching as Arlas began to take her first sip of her second Tankard.

"I mean... Don't get me wrong, it has it's advantages... The resources, the fact that I always have a roof over my head and it gives me the ability to repel creepy guys, whenever I want." She smirked, slowly turning her attention back to Nair, who shrugged as it was a fair point.

"Ha, duly noted... For what it's worth, I wouldn't pursue you, given that you're a Priest of the Nine. I wouldn't want to get on the bad side of the Gods or their servants..."

"Trust me buddy, you're already there..." Bologra pointed out, knocking some ale back as he sighed heavily, sounding like he was talking from personal experience.

"Ha, fair enough again... I suppose the Nine don't look too kindly on retched thieves, who steal from people at knife point."

"And kill them if they resist..." Arlas added, with a slight bitterness in her tone as she slowly sipped her mead.

"Actually, I've only killed a handful of people, during my time... In fact, I've bedded more of my 'victims' than I've killed, their choice of course."

"Oh, so you ain't a bandit, you're a whore?" Bologra asked, finding himself amused by his own observation, again, the Khajiit just shrugged.

"Well, if I am a whore, none have ever complained about the service that I give." Nair shrugged, leaning back and sighing.

"Either way, murder doesn't exactly come easy to me, I usually just chase my targets for a bit and then 'accidentally' lose them. The only time that I've ever killed anyone was in self defense." Nair explained further as he took another swig of his mead.

"So... You kill people, because you were defending yourself against their self defense against you?" Arlas asked, unable to hide her confusion, it sounded so... bizarre and such a waste of life, people dying over a misunderstanding.

"I... Suppose so, as... confusing as that is."

"So they die for nothing then?" Arlas asked, in a harsher tone.

"Why don't you just tell them that you don't want to kill them!?"

"Reputation..." Bologra answered, cutting Nair off as he lowered his mug down to the table and registered Arlas' confusion.

"If he admits to one person that they aren't in danger, then no one will take him seriously again. Not that I imagine many people did to begin with but still, if he kills someone, who attacks him, then it sends the message that he isn't a guy to be screwed with and attacking him isn't a good idea."

The Orsimer's explanation didn't exactly assure Arlas that the situation wasn't any less shitty but she understood the logic of it. She didn't like it but she understood it and suddenly found it difficult to pass judgment.

"You... Sound like you know a lot about it..." She commented, causing Bologra to fall silent as he shrugged.

"I've done my fair share of Mercenary contracts, I know what it takes to make it in that world or any world that isn't all white and shiny."

"Hmmm... Well, think of it this way, Sister. If you think about it, it's better for someone like me to be prowling the roads, than a merciless killer, no? A few people have been killed by me but a lot of bandits don't even ask first. I rob people, yes but I rarely kill, in that regard I'm pretty harmless, if you compare me to my predecessors and my successors.

"Yeah, except you've just told us about your little tactic, so your reputation'll go down the shitter."

"Ha, I'm retired! I couldn't care less about my reputation at this point, it could even save my life, if anyone comes looking for me."

"Wait... 'Retired?'" Arlas asked, sounding somewhat dumbfounded.

"Since when?"

"Since this afternoon, when I was knocked out and almost eaten by wolves, I see this as a sign from the Gods." The Khajiit replied, sounding rather humbled from the divine experience.

"What, that you need to change your ways?" The Bosmer asked, though she didn't sound like she believed him, he didn't exactly sound sincere.

"No, that I need to change careers... Preferably to something outside of being an outlaw. It pays awful, I keep getting stung by nettles and I'm sure that my sword skills would be put to better use, protecting the pretty neck of a nobleman's daughter." Nair slowly smiled as he finished speaking, finding himself to be fantasizing about his dream job...

"Yeah but the noble probably isn't going to let you sleep with his daughter, you know that, right?" Arlas asked, hoping to burst his bubble, though she didn't know why as she didn't usually have a love for crushing dreams.

"Oh, I know... That's part of the fun." Nair admitted, giving off a chuckle as he shook his head and knocked another mouth full of mead back.

"Damn... I once served as some asshole's bodyguard..." Bologra grumbled scratching his head as the memories came flooding back to him.

"Oh? Was it a career that you'd recommend?"

"Hell no, it's just a life of constantly being told what to do by some asshole, who talks to you like you're a piece of shit. Eventually,  I got sick of it, so I punched him." The Orc ended on a quick burst of laughter as he remembered the site of the dumbfounded Nord Nobleman squirming around on the floor, trying to find his missing teeth.

"Wh-Whoah... You punched him?" Arlas choked, trying not to laugh, though she didn't know why, since nobody would care if she did.

"Yeah, right in the jaw... Knocked a couple of teeth out to, got to watch him pick 'em back up, it was hilarious."

"Why?" Arlas asked, finding herself to be a little shocked at this as she wasn't a very violent person herself...

Bologra shrugged as he tried to recall, scratching his stump as he did so as it still itched...

"Erm... Well, he used to call me 'Orc,' knowing full damn well what my name was. He used to say 'the Orc' can do this or the 'The Orc' can do that... Like I was his friggin' dog or something.

So, then he found himself saying 'The orr cau pik mah qeef up!'"

Arlas gave up all attempt at smothering her laughter, bursting out into a giggling fit.

"Ha, okay, I can't really argue with that..."

"I know you can't... Guy was an asshole, everyone said it, even the guy who used to pay me said it. So I did myself and all of them a favor..." Bologra's enthusiasm faded as he slowly began to scratch his stump, he was going at it a little harder now and as a result, the sound of his finger nails grazing his skin grew more and more audible.

"How is it?" Arlas asked, realizing that she hadn't checked for a while.

"Huh?" Bologra then noticed that she was talking about the stump as he quickly brought it out.

"It's... Fine... Erm... It's just... Friggin' weird is all." He slowly pulled the stump up to the table and showed it her.

"I can still feel my hand there... Like I'm flippin' Nair off right now, I can feel it."

"Great..." The Khajiit sighed, looking away as he ran his hand over his head, combing his hair with it.

"I'm being ghost flipped..."

Arlas moved closer to the Orc and took his arm, examining it as she did so...

"Hmm... That's normal, you'll probably be feeling that for a while, until your body gets used to not having your hand there..." The Bosmer commented as Nair slowly began to sit up and examined it himself, seeing the brace around his arm as an idea began to form in his head but still, he said nothing as he went back to his drink, quickly realizing that it was empty...

"So... How'd you lose it? Y'know, assuming that it isn't too soon to talk about your lost lover?" Nair mocked, a joke that went over Bologra and Arlas' head for various reasons.

Bologra glanced back to the stump on his arm and slowly pulled it away as he began to nurse it in his hand, he eventually shrugged and glanced up.

"Sure but only if someone gets me another round..."

The Khajiit smiled and looked over, quickly getting the attention of a passing waitress as he did so.

"Another round of your finest oxen piss for me and my companions!" He called, cheerfully before turning back to the two of them, prompting Arlas to glance up to Bologra.

"Well... It happened a few days ago..."