The Brute, the Thief, and the Awkward (Skyrim Fanfiction)

The road more traveled

Morndas, First seed, 2nd, 4E 200

12:46pm

"Markarth, the capital of silver!" Daro'maka relayed the words her mother so enthusiastically had told her once, to Neyya who was not nearly as joyous. It was very difficult to get to and very rich, the perfect place to begin their venture.

Daro'maka had spoken to Ri'saad, one of the caravan leaders who made frequent trips there. He suggested a route southwest of Whiterun to Falkreath, then northwest to Markarth. It would take a day longer than just a straight shot west from Whiterun, but it wouldn't lead them into Karthspire, heart of the forsworn territory. Best they went safe for just the two of them.

Ri'saad had also mentioned that the forests around Falkreath are teeming with wildlife and can be extremely dangerous, but that hadn't worried Neyya in the slightest. She had learned many secrets that made her a dear friend to any animal.

Neyya was not nearly as enthusiastic as Daro'maka, this was what she was good at. Neyya in all her years had never thought she would be a guard for a merchant. But with the events of the past day now behind her, she refuted most of her previous thoughts on life. Though it pained her, she had pretty much come to terms with the fact that everyone she had known and loved was probably now dead.

In Daro'maka she had found something to occupy her in short term... But she needed something to drive her long term. Ideas formed in her head, but she decided to not put the energy needed to sort them out now, but rather later, when she could afford to be distracted.

"Two days?" Neyya asked, remembering the conversation she was having with Daro'maka.

"Yes. We head to Falkreath and set up camp for the night. Early morning we start second leg to Markarth."

Upon being woken by cold water, Neyya had been dazed and confused. Now that she had her head on correctly, she gave more thought to how astonishingly light Daro'maka had packed, and how she still yet managed to have items to barter with... And how she even had materials to set up camp. When she questioned it earlier, Daro'maka had only offered "Khajiit secret." This baffled Neyya, but she figured better some things stay secret.

"Shall we head off?" Neyya asked, knowing of the answer.

"Of course." Her new friend replied. Without further adieu, they began their journey down the long cobbled path.

9:35pm

Daro'maka moved to fill her tankard, and sat on the log beside Neyya, several feet from their cozy little campfire. They had just finished a nice hoarker stew Neyya had prepared with the meat she had bartered for. A simple silver band had won them meals for the next week, and she could still detect the look of astonishment on Neyya's face from the exchange. She herself was still working off the adrenaline from such a trade, but it was something known to her for sometime.

She looked to Neyya in time to witness her empty the tankard of mead into her system, release a satisfied belch, and continue to stare into the fire. She stood quiet until she could no more.

"Have you decided what you will do? You know... If your fathe-"

"He's not coming back Maka." Neyya cut her off. She stared deep into her empty tankard, reflectively. She was probably considering why she even told Daro'maka the story in the first place. But well, she wasn't. She was deciding how drunk she needed to be in order to open up further. After clasping the large bottle of mead, she motioned to pour it into her tankard, but instead stopped, and took a long chug of the bottle. After she had enough, she wiped a few drops from her face, and turned to Daro'maka. "What would you do?"

Daro'maka paused, and put thought into her next few words, because of their importance to her friend. Unfortunately, they both knew the only answer. "Khajiit would seek revenge."

Neyya stumbled and shuffled over to her tent, lifted the flap, and turned to face her. "There you go."

With that, the flap closed, Neyya disappearing inside. Daro'maka heard a loud THUD, and hoped she landed on the bed roll.

In the silence, Daro'maka became more aware of the wilds surrounding her. Though the Falkreath wall was within sight, she felt far from civilization. The sounds of forest animals shrouded the area, not all beasts being hostile. Foxes and rabbits scampered, deer fed and frolicked far away.

Skyrim was not like Elsweyr. Cold snow and thick forest reigned where warm sand was meant to be. The roads were long and unforgiving, hostile even. Elsweyr sands are much more kind, calm, soothing.

The ring on her finger began to emit a soft, gray glow.

As thoughts of home began rush into her mind, she started to escape. She was there, with her family. The beautiful beach, crystal oceans, and warm sun. She could see her siblings, bickering in the distance. Her nerves momentarily jolted, then ceased, while her wise mother caressed the length of her hair. She was at peace. The more lost in her trance she became, the brighter the ring glowed.

She was near complete harmony, when a rustle in the bushes disrupted her thoughts, and she nearly fell off the log and into the fire. The glow of the ring faded, and she drew a fine steel dagger from her waist.

"Who is there?" Daro'maka called. No answer. Seconds felt like hours passing by, and adrenaline rushed through her body. Her heart beats intensified, and droplets of sweat formed on her forehead.

Another rustle, directly ahead.

She made her way over to where the sound came from, and with the shine of the moon, a towering shadow fell over her, and her face went blank...