Darian picked up the cutlass and examined the blade. Decent steel, well kept, and familiar balance. It would do.

“That your sword, lad?” The Imperial City Guard’s accent sounded appalling, and his nasal tone insulted the ear. Darian supposed he would have to get used to it.

It’s mine now, he thought. “Yes.”

The guard looked him over. “You’re not injured?”

Little thanks to you. “No. I appreciate your assistance.”

“Protect and serve, that’s what we do. These pirates have been a nuisance, and now they’ve finally stepped over the line. We can’t have them robbing citizens right in our Imperial City. I’ll need you to come with me when I fill out the report.”

Not a chance, thought Darian. “Of course. I’ll just get my things, if you don’t mind.”

Darian was tempted to check the Dunmer’s pockets while he retrieved the belt and scabbard, but he carried enough shame already. He wanted a fresh start, and now he had it. He left his past behind on the docks of Rihad, and now he was free of possessions as well. Being robbed would not make him a thief. It didn’t bother him that these were not the brigands who had robbed him.

The midday sun warmed his head as he waited for a crowd to gather. The city loomed at his back, glistening with promise. It would have to wait. Darian wanted silken robes and a heavy purse before he entered the center of the Empire. Though so far it seemed that Cyrodiils preferred to dress as peasants.

The guard turned to speak with an arriving officer. Darian slipped into the crowd.

He wanted to see the Great Forest, but the Gold Cost also beckoned. Either way he would need provisions, a bow, and coin to rent a bed until he got his bearings in this green land. A map would also be useful. He shortened his stride to blend in with the other pedestrians. His eyes went to the great stone bridge. It might take the rest of the day to get across Lake Rumare.

“You have your orders,” barked the orc. “Now move your carcass, boot!”

Darian hauled the weapons shipment to the mine, grumbling all the way. He entered this land a warrior, and now he was a pack mule in a company of thugs.

Eventually he reconsidered his guild mates. Keld of the Isles seemed pleasant if overly cautious, and Ohtimbar had at least a cultivated manner. However their Orsimer chapter head was a true barbarian in Darian’s eyes. It wouldn’t be hard to give the goblins an orc’s face as he killed them.

The team at the mine was happy to see him, and even more thrilled over the weapons he brought. How they happened to be on a contract unarmed was not mentioned. Darian earned more praise as they cleared out the mine. They offered him some friendly advice afterward.

“You would do well to use a shield, lad,” offered the team’s other swordsman. The mountains must seem young to this Altmer, thought Darian. He decided not to take offense.

“Good work, soldier,” the team leader told him. “The miners will be able to get back to work. You should head back to Burz and find another contract.”

“Bashing puny goblin skulls, crushy dead!” exclaimed the orc warhammer enthusiast, or at least it sounded something like that. Darian accepted his congratulatory thump without wincing.

Back at the guild hall, Burz had the payout but no new contract. For that Darian would need to travel to Anvil.

The Gold Coast, thought Darian, gritting his teeth under a smile. Nearly the other side of the province for a small pouch of gold. Wonderful.

By the time he got on the road, his attitude had improved. He would get to see a great deal of country this way, instead of getting bogged down in one location. He wanted to see Anvil anyway. And at least today he was wearing clean socks.