Chapter One
20 Sun’s Height Fourth Era 221
The Rift, Skyrim
Business in The Jumping Flea was running slow, and Thalin River-Rusher was considering closing down the tavern for the night when the door opened and a new customer stepped in.
He was an Argonian. Or at the least, Thalin thought it was a male. It was getting hard, especially with his growing age, to tell the lizards apart. As the Argonian walked towards the bar, however, he could tell that it was in fact a male. The Argonian wore a light brown tunic, white breeches, and brown boots. A strange necklace made from stone hung at his neck.
From what he could see, the Argonian’s scales were a greenish-greyish hue, and numerous spikes and horns sprouted from his head. The strangest thing he noticed about the lizard was his smile - which while friendly - seemed to conceal an certain malice behind it.
The malice was increased when he noticed that the Argonian had a Battle-Axe made from the strangest material he had ever seen strapped behind his back. The hilt appeared to be made out of black glass. The blade was thin, light orange, and glowed slightly. It appeared to be very sharp.
Strange fellow, Thalin noted. He slightly forced a smile at the newcomer.
“Good day, is it not?” Thalin greeted.
The Argonian sat down awkwardly onto a stool to avoid crushing his tail. He placed his hands on the counter, and signed heavily.
“Good day it is indeed.” he replied calmly as he drummed the counter with the fingers of his left hand as if bored. “Do you have any Argonian Bloodwine?”
Thalin snorted. “Nope. I haven’t had Bloodwine in stock in about two years. Ever since that shrewd Breton Maius became my supplier.” He went back to washing the tankards.
The Argonian nodded slowly. “Then may I get some Blackbriar Mead instead?”
Thalin nodded and reached under the counter, pulled up a bottle, and slid it towards the Argonian, who grabbed it and uncorked it.
“Thank you” he said, and tossed a septim to Thalin, who caught it and placed it in the money bag hanging at his belt. It went quiet for several seconds before the Argonian spoke again.
“My name is Tra-Vel.” he said simply.
“Mine is Thalin.” the Nord replied.
It went back to silence for several minutes after that simple exchange, with Tra-Vel drinking his mead as Thalin washed the dishes.
The silence broke again.
“So, what did you say was wrong with your new supplier?” Tra-Vel asked innocently, taking another sip from his mead.
Thalin raised an eyebrow, unsure if he should tell his business to this stranger, but decided to answer anyway. “He’s an evil, cold man. I got into a bad gambling debt with him a few years ago, so he’s been taking half of my profits and most of my popular ales in repayment.”
Tra-Vel finished his mead, and set the bottle on the counter. “Why haven’t you contacted the local Jarl then? That would solve your problems considerably fast.”
“The problem with that is that Maius is a thane.”
“Ah, I see.” Tra-Vel stared down at the counter.
Thalin stared down at Tra-Vel. The young Argonian seemed to be thinking deeply about something. The old Nord turned back around to finish the last of the dishes when Tra-Vel said in a very calm voice, “What if I could help you erase your debt?”
Thalin stumbled over a stray bucket as he tried to turn back around, cursing as he rubbed his sore foot.
“What did you just say, Tra-Vel?” Thalin inquired, hoping he had heard wrong.
“What if I can win back your debt?” Tra-Vel said again. “Seriously. I’m good at gambling”
Thalin shook his head. “You seem like a kind lad, Vel, and I appreciate the gesture. But Maius and his bodyguards will quickly drain you of all your coin, if not worse.”
Tra-Vel frowned, and rested his shoulders on the counter as he laid his head in his hands. He suddenly reached down towards his thigh, feeling a rather large lump in the pocket of his breeches.
“I have a lot of coin.” Tra-Vel slyly grinned.
Thalin’s eyebrow rose again, and he signed. “I see now that I shouldn’t have mentioned Maius at all. If this is the path you wish to walk, tread lightly my new friend. He has the full support of the Jarl behind his back.”
“I have the full support of someone behind my back as well” Tra-Vel said quietly, then got up from his seat. “Where can I find this Maius?”
Thalin pointed to the far right-hand corner of the room, where a group of four men were singing merrily and teasing the Dunmer serving girl, who looked flustered. A fifth man sat at the table as well, but he seemed quite depressed.
“He’s the Breton with the brown hair, green eyes, and arrogant smile. The damn bastard.”
Tra-Vel nodded, and began to walk away from the bar when Thalin reached out and grabbed him by the arm.
“Tra-Vel, be careful. I don’t know who the dreary looking fellow at the table is, but the three men sitting on the sides of Maius are extremely dangerous. They’re his bodyguards, and will not hesitate to kill on his orders. But whatever you do, please don’t make too much of a ruckus. I like my tavern, Vel. I don’t want to have to rebuild it.”
Tra-Vel nodded once more. “I’ll try not to destroy your tavern, Thalin. And if I do, I’ll pay for all of the expenses. You have my word.”
“Thank you. Now if you don’t mind, I’m heading to the storage room so I can try to make myself as invisible as possible.”
Tra-Vel began to walk away from the bar before he stopped. “Wish me luck,” he told Thalin as he headed towards the Thane’s table.
Thalin uncorked a bottle of mead and took a swig before he left from behind the counter. “Good luck lizard,” he said kindly. “But if he asks you to a game of dice, be prepared to lose.”
*************
Maius Lane calmly sipped his cup of tea as the poor farmer opposite him figured out he was about to lose the game.
The farmer, a young Nord named Ungar, was requesting a large amount of septims from Maius after a group of bandits had raided and burnt down his family’s home. Luckily, Ungar, his wife, and their children had been away at the time.
He had quickly sought out Maius’s aid, because the Thane was known for giving out coin. What Maius didn’t tell many of his clients was that they had to earn the coin.
It was simple really. Maius would lure the potential victim in with a game of dice, promising they could win double the amount of gold they had originally requested. They would then lose the match, and Maius would offer more gold if they could win the next game. This would continue until the victim would be forever indebted to him and Maius would force them to either choose to go to the Jarl’s dungeons or work off the debt.
Maius smiled. Forced labor is an incredible business profession.
“So, Ungar…I do believe we have let this game go on for long enough, haven’t we?”
Ungar’s eyes widened. “No! I must win, I have to…”
Maius signed. How he hated gibbering. “You already owe me one thousand septims, probably more than you can pay.” He placed his hands in one another. “So when can I expect my payment?”
If Maius hadn’t been sitting there, he wouldn’t have believed Ungar’s eyes could’ve gotten any wider. “Maius, you know I can’t possibly pay all of that…”
Maius raised a hand to signal the waitress, who walked over to the table. “Another cup of tea please, my dear.” The Dunmer woman nodded and walked to the hearth in the middle of the tavern, where she began to brew another kettle.
Now content that his tea was on the way, Maius turned his attention back on Ungar, and his expression grew cold. “Are you telling me that not only were you not going to pay me, but you never had the intention to do so?”
Ungar paled. “No sir! I tried to tell you I couldn’t pay you all of those septims! But you kept asking, and asking…”
Maius snapped his fingers and one of the three men sitting to his side, a Redguard, got up and forced the farmer from his seat.
“I don’t deal with liars and cheats,” Maius said casually, with mock humor in his eyes. “Staz, please escort Mr. Ungar to the Jarl’s dungeon.”
Ungar tried to fight back, but the Redguard was big and burly; a professional Sellsword. The Nord didn’t stand a chance.
“Please, I beg of you! I’ll do anything! I’ll work myself to death if I have to! Anything to support my family…”
“Did you just say work?” Maius raised an eyebrow. “Because it just so happens I’m in the need of more workers at my estate, which is some miles from Riften. The pay is reasonably good.”
The Dunmer serving girl returned to the table with his tea, and he accepted it graciously. How he enjoyed the taste of good tea.
Color began to flood back into Ungar’s cheeks. “Oh thank you, Maius! I’ll work for you. Please just help my family!”
Maius looked indifferent. “Staz, please take Master Ungar to the carriage waiting outside. And make sure he reaches my estate safely…and securely.”
Staz nodded, and escorted a foolishly grinning Ungar outside, who had unwittingly just sold himself into slavery. Maius smirked, and began to put the dice pieces back into their pouch when a shadow passed over him. Maius looked up to see the tall, slim body of an Argonian.
“Well hello good sir,” Maius greeted formally, but dangerously. “You are certainly far away from Black Marsh, Argonian.”
“And you are certainly away from High Rock, Breton.” the Argonian responded in turn, causing Maius to chuckle.
“Well met.” Maius grinned, and motioned a hand towards the empty seat that Ungar had just vacated. The Argonian sat down, his tail draping over the back of the chair.
“What’s your name, lizard?” Maius asked as he continued to place the dice back inside their bag.
“Tra-Vel. And you are?”
“I am Maius Lane, Thane of Riften. Welcome to the Rift.”
Tra-Vel nodded, and then turned his head from side to side, as if to make sure no one was watching. He turned back around until he was facing Maius again. “I’ve heard that you lend out coin.”
The thane smiled. “And you have heard correctly, Argonian. Are you indebted to someone?”
Tra-Vel nodded again, as if the thought of all the septims he owed was too unbearable to voice.
Maius nodded, understanding. “I see. Now, I’m perfectly capable of helping you out with this problem, but there are some terms of agreement we must go over first.”
Tra-Vel squinted slightly in one eye, the Argonian equivalent to the raising of an eyebrow.
“Terms? You have terms?”
“Yes, I have terms. You see, I can’t just lend out septims. If I did that, I would be a very poor man. I have always thought that someone should earn the loan, you know?”
Tra-Vel folded his arms across his chest and stared down at the table. “Let me guess- I will have to gamble for it.”
“Exactly,” Maius smiled. He poured the dice back out of their bag and onto the table. Tra-Vel noted that they were all different shapes. “Have you encountered this game before, Travel?”
Tra-Vel stiffened. He hated it when Men or Mer pronounced his name as travel, not TRAH-VELL as it was supposed to be. Ironically, his name in Tamrielic roughly translated into ‘travels far often’.
He shook off the unintentional insult and shook his head at Maius’s question. Perfect, thought Maius as he continued explaining.
“It is called Hyun ti Bunin, an exotic game from Akavir that I acquired from troublesome merchants years ago. Before they disappeared, I was able to learn the concept of the game and acquire the actual dice. The game is rather simple, but unnaturally hard. Each player shares three dice of different shapes- triangle, square, and circle respectively. The triangles are marked on each side with odd numbers, ranging from one, three, and five. The squares are marked on each side with even numbers, with two sets of six and eight and only one set of two and four. The circle is marked with a zero- it doesn’t go to the final score. The goal is to get a number less than six from the combined total of the dice.”
Tra-Vel squinted again. “It has to be less than six? It can’t be six exactly?”
“No, it can’t. Roll the dice in this order: triangle, square, and circle last.” Maius handed the dice pieces to Tra-Vel, who turned them over in his hands.
The thane grinned arrogantly. “You first, Travel.”
Tra-Vel rolled the dice and the two competitors watched as the dice spun around once, twice, until all three eventually slowed down. Tra-Vel groaned inwardly. “Triangle three, square four. Damn, I rolled a seven.” He handed the dice back to Maius.
Maius laughed. “That was unfortunate luck, my friend. Maybe after my throw, it shall change.” And with that, he began to roll the dice. But as he did so, he quickly and discreetly rolled them up his hand and into a hidden pocket in his sleeve. At the same time, three dice that looked the exact same as the other ones slipped down into his hand. These dice were also weighted like the other dice, but unlike the first dice these dice were meant to win and never lose. No one else at the table saw the exchange.
“May the Divines guide my hand!” cried out Maius and the dice flew onto the table, spun once, and fell still. The Breton yelled triumphantly while Tra-Vel groaned.
“Triangle one, square two. I rolled a three.” Maius grinned, and an arrogant expression slowly crept onto his face. In less than a second Maius switched the dice again, and handed the losing variants back to Tra-Vel.
“Ah, I feel like Akatosh himself has favored me. Roll, Travel.”
And thus began a repeating cycle. Tra-Vel would roll numbers greater than six and snarl in frustration, while Maius rolled threes and fives and rejoiced. Tra-Vel, however, refused to give up to Maius’s astonishment.
“Serving girl?” Maius raised his hand to call her attention after Tra-Vel’s eleventh bad throw. The Dunmer woman quickly ran up. “More tea, please”
“More tea?” she laughed in a slightly high pitch, but beautiful voice. “I wouldn’t drink too much of it. I heard that it’s bad for the bladder.”
Maius laughed himself. “That’s okay, my lady. My bladder is none of your concern.”
She curtsied low, and turned to leave when one of the guards reached out and grabbed her hips and laughed. She blushed and quickly ran out of her captors hands. The table exploded into laughter. Tra-Vel remained quiet.
“What’s wrong Travel? We’re just having a little fun, lad. Or are all Argonians only tempted by the skirts of their own women?” Maius asked playfully.
“You must have me confused with the Ambassador of the An-Xileel, Mister Maius. Or you wouldn’t ask me questions like that.” Tra-Vel said in an icy tone.
Maius cocked an eyebrow. “My apologies, Travel. Don’t be crossed.” This overgrown lizard seems to have forgotten his place.
The Dunmer lady returned with the tea, but on her way to the table she tripped and with a great yelp she fell to the floor and the hot tea spilled onto Maius’s lap.
Maius jumped up from his chair with a cry of pain mingled with anger. “Damn girl, you ruined my trousers!” he snarled. “Fetch me another cup of tea. Now!”
In her excitement, the Dunmer ran into Tra-Vel’s chair, and the Argonian instantly reached up and grabbed her shoulder to steady her.
“Watch yourself, elf.” Tra-Vel said gruffly.
“Yes, sir.” the Serving Girl replied, before removing the scaly hand from her shoulder and returning to the hearth.
“Your roll, Maius.” Tra-Vel said after the Dunmer had left their immediate vicinity. Maius’s furrowed his eyebrows. He couldn’t quite place it, but he felt for sure that the Argonian knew the serving girl. He shrugged his shoulders and threw the dice.
“By Akatosh, I am astounded-” Maius gasped when he noticed the way the dice had fallen. “Triangle five, square four…”
Maius had thrown a nine.
He had lost the roll.
Even his bodyguards appeared shocked. Maius barely managed to grab the cup of tea that the serving girl had just brought to him. Tra-Vel, however, smiled happily. “It seems that your Divines have abandoned you. Or maybe just your luck.”
“Throw.” Maius gritted through clenched teeth, and began to drink his tea as Tra-Vel threw the dice.
“Well, better luck next-” Maius began, before he spewed all the tea in his mouth onto one of his bodyguards. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Triangle three, square two.” Tra-Vel grinned, a look of pure satisfaction written across his face. He handed the dice back to Maius, who took the dice with trembling hands.
“But” Maius began, but Tra-Vel raised a hand.
“Didn’t you say my luck was going to change Maius? Don’t act so surprised when you knew it from the start, my thane!”
And the game completely shifted. To Maius’s bewilderment, Tra-Vel played winning throws while all of Maius’s left him in the dirt of the Argonian’s wake. How was this happening? Had the weights in the losing dice become destabilized? Maius yawned, suddenly struck by a sudden tiredness.
“The game is tied Maius,” Tra-Vel announced after his eleventh successful throw. “How about we have the next throw decide the game?” He handed the dice to Maius.
But something was wrong with the Thane, who didn’t even reach up for the dice. Maius’s eyesight had become blurry. His thoughts were muddy. He was sweating badly, but he was so dreadfully cold.
“Come on, Maius. One last throw. Or are you too busy sharing the feeling all of your countless victims have felt right about now?”
Maius looked up at Tra-Vel with a start, then quickly grabbed his teacup and stared down at its contents. It was brown, but darker than his usual tea.
Maius sprung up from his seat, knocking it over in the process. He drew an iron dagger from his belt and in an instant his bodyguards had gotten up and drew swords of their own. Tra-Vel remained seated, smug and grinning.
“My tea…you poisoned me…lizard!” Maius rasped.
“Of course we did. Well, it’s not exactly a poison. It’s an relaxant, processed from the roots of the Boztuco plant near Helstrom. It makes you feverish, cold, and drowsy; it doesn’t kill. Well, usually.”
Maius stared at the Argonian, dumbstruck. Then the viciousness returned to his eyes.
“Kill him.”
Maius’s bodyguards lunged at Tra-Vel, who kicked the table. It flew into Maius, sending the Breton flying, while Tra-Vel slid backward on his chair and into the wall, narrowly avoiding being beheaded. The wall, unfortunately, took the full force of the strike and the wood shattered.
Tra-Vel hissed, and sprung up from his seat as he drew his battle-axe. “Next time you invite someone to a friendly game of Hyun ti Bunin, you should ask them to relieve themselves of their weapons first!”
Despite the growing confusion in his mind due to the relaxant, Maius cursed. The Argonian was right- he had forgotten to ask his bodyguards to rid him of his weapon.
The Breton observed the situation. Tra-Vel had the obvious advantage in weaponry with his battle-axe. But he and his men had him outnumbered. They could win this.
“Yes, next time. Too bad you will not be alive to see it!” Maius yelled, and leaped at Tra-Vel’s throat as one of his bodyguards swung at the Argonian with his sword.
Tra-Vel slashed the guard diagonally across the chest, sending him out of the fight. But he barely dodged Maius’s strike and felt the Breton’s knife cut open his cheek.
“Aargh!” Tra-Vel growled, and viciously kicked Maius into the already ruined table, which cracked into pieces. The second bodyguard came out of nowhere and punched him in his wounded cheek, spraying Tra-Vel’s blood onto the wall and making him drop his battle-axe. The Argonian turned back around and returned the favor by slamming the flat of his palm into the bodyguard’s forehead. The bodyguard fell back, dazed, as Tra-Vel reached down to lift his battle-axe off the floor and swung the flat of the blade at the bodyguard’s face. The blade connected and the bodyguard’s neck made a sickening cracking noise as he flew into the wall, and laid still.
Tra-Vel bent over and grasped his knees, panting and bleeding as he surveyed the damage. “I didn’t fulfill my promise to Thalin-”
Suddenly, a muscular Redguard slammed into Tra-Vel so hard he hit the floor with a mighty thud. Staz had returned from his escorting duties.
Staz turned Tra-Vel over onto his back, and eased a scimitar to his neck.
“Any last words, lizard?” the loyal bodyguard growled in a voice more beast than man.
“Of course.” Tra-Vel groaned confidently. “Where do Redguards go when they die?”
Staz went wide-eyed at the response when a spectral blade erupted from his chest, splattering Tra-Vel with his blood.
Staz stared down at the ghostly weapon in shock before it was ripped violently from his body. The Redguard went stiff, gasped, and fell onto the floor and stayed still.
Standing above Tra-Vel, now dressed in blue breeches and a white tunic was the Dunmer serving girl. The Bound Dagger now covered in blood was glimmering in her left hand.
Tra-Vel groaned as he struggled to sit up. “That was kind of close. Don’t you think so Ralsa?”
She knelt down beside him, and began treating his face. “You never listen to me. You keep doing this, Vel, and you’re going to be little more than a bunch of scales and organs held together by healing spells.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, which she began to clean his cheek with. “You shouldn’t push yourself so- oh, could you stay still?”
Tra-Vel hoisted himself up. “Sorry, Ralsa. But our friend over there needs some supervision.” He pointed to the wreckage of the table.
Maius had been trying to crawl away from the fighting. Unfortunately for him, a large chunk of wood had lodged itself into his chest, hindering his movements as he left a trail of blood as he scrapped across the floor. Ralsa and Tra-Vel had no trouble catching up to him.
Tra-Vel casually walked forward until he was behind Maius. He stared at the man, and abruptly stamped down on his leg, causing Maius to cry out in pain.
“How…?” Maius pleaded. “How…?” He pointed, and Tra-Vel followed his gaze until he saw a lone dice piece rolling across the ground. The Argonian instantly understood. Maius could’ve been two seconds away from dying and the only thing he cared about was how he had lost the game.
“You haven’t figured it out yet? When Ralsa spilled the tea onto your trousers, she quickly switched your pair of winning dice with my losing dice. So when you rolled a loss, you unintentionally aided in my winning by handing me the winning dice. Nice sleeve trick, thane. If we hadn’t decided to track you for weeks and just barged in here today, we would’ve been in serious trouble.”
Maius laughed, blood splattering from his mouth. “I knew someday that someone would send you after me…damn your Brotherhood…”
Tra-Vel actually snorted- something he only did when he found something utterly ridiculous. He raised his Battle-axe.
“My Brotherhood? Do you mean the Dark Brotherhood? We’re Bounty Hunters, idiot.” And with that Tra-Vel slammed the axe’s shaft into Maius’s face, breaking his nose and knocking him unconscious.
“That was melodramatic,” Ralsa commented, smirking.
“You quiet.” Tra-Vel said half-heartedly, knowing she wouldn’t obey. “I’m still mad at you for letting these animals touch you”
“I can handle it, Vel. I’m used to being groped like an animal.”
“If you say so.” Tra-Vel shook his head. “Doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it.”
Ralsa pointed at the Breton, who had gone still as a board. “What are we going to do with him?”
Tra-Vel signed, and knelt down to feel Maius’s pulse. His heart was still beating, but weakly. “He’s still alive, so we’re going to deliver him as promised. The Blackbriars should be pleased. Did you remember to pay the carriage driver?”
“Yes. He should be arriving at the tavern soon.”
Tra-Vel nodded, and began to walk back towards the bar counter. “Make sure Maius doesn’t wake up and run off. I need to go find Thalin.”
Ralsa placed her hands on her hips. “You mean the tavern owner? Why?”
Tra-Vel reached into his pocket and pulled out his money bag, signing as he imagined it half full. “I need to go apologize- and pay for the damage.”
» Thu Sep 26, 2013 6:19 am 
