[ Some weeks prior ]
It was around 8:30 in the morning near a city called Markarth. A Nord man was making his way back to town after leaving an Orc stronghold. He was a meat merchant, and every other day he'd make a trip to the stronghold to resupply. Orcs don't typically deal with outsiders, unless it is beneficial to them in some way, and Hogni Red-Arm's coin was always welcomed. He was making his way up the road with food in tow, when a hooded Khajiit jumped out of the nearby brush with a weapon in hand. This startled Red-Arm, so much so he tripped and fell on his bum. The Khajiit was quiet and staring daggers at the merchant while holding his knife out. He slowly approached the man. His body language spoke "Move, and I'll gut you like a fish".
Red-Arm: Please. I don't have much. I'm only a meat peddler.
The Khajiit thought about his options for a moment. He heard the growl of his stomach, which had been neglected for some time now apparently. He began to lick his chops at the thought of fresh meat.
Red-Arm: Here,…take it. Just please let me go.
The Khajiit snatched the large bag, quickly clutching it to his chest while still keeping the dagger on Red-Arm. He watched him cautiously as he began to step away from him. Once at a safe enough distance, the thief took off down the road. As he ran, he was noticed by another person further down. The person was also wearing a hood connected to a long black cloak that opened on the right side, showing his arm and weapon. He watched the Khajiit dash past him, having already noticed the Nord man on the ground up ahead. He glanced at Red-Arm once more as if making his mind up about something. He then turned back in the direction of the thief and held out his arm. His hand began to glow with a bluish purple aura. Then, a glyph of the same glow appeared on the ground just in front of the thief. He immediately stepped on it while running, and was just as fast struck by lightning. The Khajiit thief dropped to the ground now paralyzed and out cold, dropping the bag of meat as well. Red-Arm was surprised beyond comprehension. He sat in awe as the cloaked man walked up to him holding the bag of meat. He then sat the bag down in front of Red-Arm and went to pull back his hood.
Cloaked man: I believe this belongs to you, if I'm not mistaken.
The man was an Altmer (High Elf) who appeared to have seen better days. He had an unkept scruff about his face, with long and uncombed white locks that draped down to his abdomen. He stood like someone that had once tasted nobility, but definitely did not look it, and he even seemed to be missing an arm.
Red-Arm: Th - thanks. I don't know what I would've done with out my stock. If you don't mind me asking, what made you stop that guy for me? I don't have any coin to give I'm afraid.
Altmer man: It is no trouble at all. I do so detest thieves.
Red-Arm: Well I guess today's my lucky one, huh? Red-Arm, Hogni Red-Arm at your service. I run a meat stand in the Markarth market. If you're ever in town, stop by and I'll give ya' a great deal. Least I can do for you honestly.
Altmer man: Nice to make your acquaintance Mr. Red-Arm. I go by the name Tharun Aedus. Might I trouble you for a bit of information about this area?
He held out his hand to help the merchant up from the ground. Once he was on his feet, Red-Arm put the bag on his back and dusted himself off.
Red-Arm: Sure thing, if it's within my knowledge. Go for it.
Tharun: Splendid. I can see that you're a busy man, so I won't keep you er' long. I'm in need of a mercenary, preferably a talented one. I've got a job only the most fearsome warrior could handle.
Red-Arm: (Scratches head) I see. Sorry, but I'm not really familiar with any mercs.
Tharun: Is that so? Well I do thank you anyway for your time. Good day to you.
The Altmer man continued on, replacing his hood as he walked.
Red-Arm: Ah, wait a second! I might be able to help you after all.
Tharun stopped and turned back toward Red-Arm.
Red-Arm: As I said before I don't know about any mercenaries, but I do know of a place full of fearsome warriors. I have dealings with the nearby Orc stronghold, you see. It's where I buy my stock. The freshest cuts in all the Reach I tell ya'.
Tharun began walking back toward Red-Arm with his interest now peaked.
Red-Arm: Anyway, most of the Orcs there are hardened warriors, some of the best fighters I've ever laid eyes on if I'm being honest.
Tharun: You don't say. And where might I find this stronghold?
Red-Arm: It's just a short ways south east of here, but they won't just let you in unless you're an Orc. But don't worry. I'll see if I can't get you a word with the Chieftain. It's a long shot, but he might be able to help you out if luck would have it.
Tharun: Excellent. Lead the way then.
Some time after, the two of them arrived at the Orc stronghold known as Dushnikh Yal. The fortress was completely gated off by fence made of wooden logs, with two lookout points on each side of the out post. An Orc stood at the top of the gate, watching as they approached.
Orc guard: Halt! Red-Arm? What brings you back so soon, and who is this stranger with you?
Red-Arm: Well it's a long story you see, but this gentlemen helped me out in a big way this morning, and I was hoping to return the favor.
The guard squinted her eyes as she looked upon Tharun. She then grunted in disapproval.
Orc guard: Sorry Red-Arm, but you know that's not happening. We like you, most importantly
your coin, but you know how we feel about outsiders. If he's not blood kin, he can't get in. Simple,…and it rhymes. Get it now?
Red-Arm looked up at her in disappointment. He knew it was asking for a lot. The Orcs don't usually bend on things, especially the rules and traditions, but he had hoped to repay Tharun's kindness to some degree. Tharun was not completely lost of hope just yet it seemed, for he knew a truth about Orcs that was particularly universal to them. It was that you never, (And I mean Never.), give an Orc a legitimate reason to prove their strength, because they will most certainly rise to the occasion. Even if they were complete weaklings, they would see it as an opportunity to become stronger. This is what most of them live and die for. As Red-Arm began to turn around, he saw Tharun step closer to the gate. The guard quickly unsheathed their blade.
Orc guard: Didn't you hear me, elf?
Tharun: Forgive me, but I was told that it was here I could find the finest warriors in all the Reach. Red-Arm here has informed me that the skill displayed by your warriors is most impressive. Is this not so?
The woman pondered for a second, almost a little frustrated with the options set before her. She then sheathed her blade and gave both of them a good looking at.
Orc guard: Wait here, I'll be back. Try anything funny and it's your funeral.
She then disappeared behind the gate while they stood waiting. Red-Arm looked upon Tharun curiously. He seemed to be confidently satisfied with the outcome. He was surprised at how easily Tharun turned things around. He even bit off his "In all the Reach." schtick. It was clear he knew how to get what he wanted, no matter the obstacle. They stood at the gate for a moment until they heard noises on the other side of it. Soon after, the doors opened up with two guards on each side.
Orc guard: Ok elf. You got 15 minutes with the chief. This better be good.
Tharun began stepping into the compound, but noticed that Red-Arm did not follow. He turned to him to see why he hesitated.
Red-Arm: Well, I gotcha the audience. I gotta get back to town and set up shop for the day. Kinda behind schedule as of now. But thanks again for the help earlier.
Tharun: Speak no more of it. The favor has been most certainly repaid. It was a pleasure Mr. Red-Arm.
And with that, he stepped into the gates as the guards began to close the door behind him. One guard looked back at Red-Arm and smirked.
Orc guard: See ya round Red-Arm. Hope your friend here doesn't get himself killed.
She chuckled as the door to the gates shut completely. Inside Tharun saw a small community of Orcs all working and carrying about their day. Some were working in the forge, others tended to gardens and the like. It was a small but functioning ecosystem. In the very back at the center was a large longhouse with a curved triangular shape to it, and sitting out front under a shade shack was the Chieftain and one of his three wives at his side. Tharun walked behind the guards as they led him to the big house. He took in the rare site as he strolled. Few men or mer ever get to see the inside of actual Orc stronghold. Even Red-Arm had never actually stepped inside. Once they reached the front of the house, one of the guards stepped forward.
Orc guard: This is him, Chief Burguk. The one who wishes to see our strength.
Chief Burguk was a fierce looking man. He had a greenish-brown complexion with orange war paint covering most of his face, and very large tusks. He sat out front of the main house with his wife Shel most of the day, and watched his other wives and children carry out their daily tasks. He leaned forward in his chair and took a look at Tharun.
Chief Burguk: So this is him huh? Tell me Elf, what's this all about? There are easier, less violent ways to get killed you know.
Tharun: I am well aware good sir, but I am here on a matter of upmost importance you see. I have a job, one that requires the strength of a skilled warrior. Only the finest will do.
Chief Burguk: I'm listening,…
Tharun: (Clears throat) Well, you can't tell by looking at me, but I was once a member of the Thalmor some time ago. I was tasked with apprehending a criminal, a very notorious criminal. I succeeded in my task of capturing him but failed to get him back to headquarters. We were ambushed, and in the chaos he managed to elude me. This of course has cost me my position and rank, (holds out left arm) and one of my limbs as you can see.
Chief Burguk: So you want to hire a skilled fighter to hunt him down for you. Where's the glory in that?
Tharun: This has been a humbling turn of events I admit, but this is not about glory.
Chief Burguk: Oh really? What else is there?
Tharun paused, noticing that the Chief was losing interest in his words.
Tharun: For me, this is about duty. I've fallen from grace because I failed to bring in a criminal threat to the people. I would gladly confront him again only, as I stated before, I am down an arm. I would not best him in a fight surely, but it is still my duty to bring him to justice. I only wish to put right what is wrong.
Chief Burguk: (Chuckles slightly) I think you should die about it. If it's that much of a duty and all, but hey it's your honor not mine. What do I care? You need warriors, we got'em. Question is, what do you have, stranger?
He remained unfazed by Burguk's crudeness. He simply reached into his cloak and pulled out a very heavy looking bag of coin. Burguk nodded for the guard to take the purse and hand it to him. He weighed it in his hand for a moment, then handed it off to his wife.
Chief Burguk: That's more like it. Honestly, you should've led with that. You're just in luck too. Some of the men are about to put on a little show for us today with a training exhibition. Good chance for you to see what you're buying. Come with me.
Burguk then stood up and began walking around to the back of the main house. Behind it was a training ground, with weapons and training dummies all about. Tharun watched as some of the warriors got ready for a sparring session. He was a bit uninterested at first. He knew what an exceptional warrior looked like, and although these men were definitely above average fighters, none of them quite fit the bill. Still, he stood next to the Chief and his wife and surveyed the exhibition.
Chief Burguk: See that one there? That's my son, Nagrub. Best archer in the hold.
He pointed to an Orc that was practicing his archery on the training targets. He seemed to be uninterested in the training exhibition and kept to himself. Tharun gave him a glance, but then continued watching the other Orcs get ready for battle. Once started it was a free-for-all. Four Orcs all rushed for the weapons lain on the ground in the center of them, fighting for their weapon of choice. It immediately turned into a bloodbath. As some fell, others jumped in the fray. Tharun watched with concern and shock written all over his face. He had never seen such a brutal "training" exhibition. He turned to the chief.
Tharun: I thought this was only a show of skill, a simple exhibition.
The chief laughs at Tharun's remark while taking a drink from his mug.
Chief Burguk: It is. If you don't die,…it means you're getting better. Pretty simple right?
Tharun: I suppose.
He was not in agreement, but he was not going to question his logic either. He watched on as a much larger Orc from the rest dominated the training field. He held two one-handed maces that he swung ferociously at his opponents. Very soon all combatants were downed save him. He roared in victory while raising his maces high in the air. The defeated combatants slithered off of the field with their ego's more bruised than their bodies.
Orc Warrior: I must say, competition gets slimmer and slimmer by the week it seems. Is there no one among us who can best me?
The crowd of Orcs looked on silently, unwilling to deliver a response. The brutish Orc looked around, hoping to find someone with a fire in their eyes. That's when he noticed the chief's son, still practicing his archery and paying the commotion no mind at all. A menacing smirk emerged on his face as he saw an opportunity to make the Chief's bloodline look weak. He then took one of his maces and hurled it at the training target that Nagrub was using. The mace knocked the target completely to the ground. Nagrub turned around to them with discontent in his eyes.
Orc Warrior: What say you Nagrub? Surely you want to be chief someday right? Here's your chance to show your father what he'll be up against. Or have you accepted your place as the lowly hunting apprentice?
Nagrub was not a push over in the least, but he loathed the commotion of battle. He preferred a nice quiet field or forest to hunt in any day. Although much like the other males, he too harbored a desire to become chief. This was only natural given that the chief is the only male allowed to take on wives in any one Orc community. The rest have 3 options available to them. Lead a life of celibacy, leave the stronghold and find love elsewhere (being disowned in the process), or kill the acting chief in single combat. Most chieftains expect to be killed by their sons at some point, some even look forward to it. Better to prove their bloodline the strongest. Because of this, Chief Burguk did not speak. He too was waiting to see what his son's response would be. The hulking Orc pushed past the crowd of onlookers, slowly making his way over to Nagrub. He now stood towering over him, sweat dripping from his jaw. His large body casting a shadow that completely engulfed the young hunter. Nagrub turned to meet his gaze. He said nothing, only making sure that he never broke eye contact. He knew his father was watching. Despite his desires, his mother, the chief's hunts-wife had already toiled to suppress such behavior for fear of losing him to the savage tradition. He clutched his bow tightly for a second, thinking about all the places he'd stick an arrow in this arsehole, but he knew feeding into this would only worry his mother. He huffed and turned away from him.
Nagrub: Not worth it.
He moved over in front of the next target and continued his practicing. As he reached for an arrow from his quiver, his hand was grabbed. It seemed the warrior wouldn't take no for an answer.
Orc Warrior: You don't get it do you? (Leans in close) I'm not letting you lot keep it in the family any longer, and I'm gonna start by whipping the chief's son right in front of'm.
Female Voice: Oy!
The large Orc turns to see Nagrub's sister, Yaza stepping out of the back door to the longhouse. She was tall, lean yet muscular, with her burgundy hair rolled up into a twisting mohawk that funneled into one long braid running all the way down to her calfs. Her skin was an olive green color with a brownish tint, kissed by several battle scars that she wore proudly. She wore naught but clothing made of hide, only covering her chest and waste area.
Yaza is the notoriously rambunctious adopted daughter of Chief Burguk and his third wife Shel. Shel was unable to bear children when they first married, but being the chief's favorite she had to have any and everything that was given to his first two wives, including a child. They raised Yaza up as their own, filling a void for the both of them. Shel got her child with the chief, and Burguk got a second chance at a daughter. His actual daughter, Lash gra-Dushnikh, had run away when his boys were still young. She's since been excommunicated, and not many save her mother make much mention of her nowadays. They adopted Yaza when she was but 11 or 12 years of age. She's been the chief's most unruly child yet, even making claims that she'd one day kill Burguk in single combat and become the first female chief, which is entirely against their traditions. She was skilled in all manner of warfare, and had for a long time been the most sought after training partner amongst her peers. Most of the males would steer clear of any conflict with her though. If for no other reason, not to risk being bested by a female, but every so often she'd catch an idiot on her hook. She stepped barefoot out into the sun with the rest of the Orcs as they looked on.
Yaza: Since when did you get so high on the food chain around 'ere?
Orc Warrior: No one's talkin' to you, princess. This is a man's sport.
Nagrub: Stay out of this, Yaza. I can handle myself.
She calmly walks up to the Orc warrior and her brother, gently placing a hand on Nagrub's cheek while smiling at him.
Yaza: I'm sure you can, big brother. But this isn't about you so shut it. (Pushes his face away) I've just been itchin' for a fight is all.
She gets in the Orc's face, smiling confidently with her arms folded.
Orc Warrior: I'm not wasting any energy on you little girl. I wanna see what kinda bite the pup over here's got. Stay out of the way would you?
Burguk dropped his face into his palm followed by a deep sigh as Shel rubbed his shoulders from behind him. He knew this was only going to escalate from the moment the words "little girl" were uttered. Tharun was unsure how to feel at present. This all seemed like pure anarchy to him, yet everyone including the chief seemed unbothered, or at least not in the way they should be.
Yaza: Little girl 'e says,…(Chuckles lightly)
She then leaned in and head butted the Orc right in the mouth. He stumbled back into the crowd holding his face. Blood was now spilling between his fingers. She might've even knocked a few teeth loose.
Orc Warrior: Bitch! You want to die for your brother that bad aye?
She grabbed the mace that was thrown at the archery target and tossed it in the dirt at his feet.
Yaza: Pick it up!
She then grabbed two hand axes from the rack. She raised one of them, waving it at all the orc combatants standing out on the yard.
Yaza: I don't wanna hear anymore whispers about taking my father's head! Speak up next time! As a matter of fact,…if you wanna test your strength against someone, try me first. Right here and now! That goes for all you limp-dicks. If you want a shot just pick up a weapon. I'll take that as a challenge.
The men fell silent, even more so than before. The brute stood up from the ground now clinching both maces. A few other Orcs that didn't much care for her tone also grabbed weapons off the ground. The others simply cleared out to give them space. Yaza smirked devilishly while getting into fighting position.
Yaza: That's right. Show me how many faces I'll get to break.
The Orc warriors all spread out around her, clutching their weapons as they watched her closely.
Tharun: You're not going to stop them? This fight is clearly stacked unfavorably against her.
Chief Burguk: Nope,…(raises mug to his mouth)
At the same time, one of the warriors inched their foot closer toward Yaza. Then they leapt out at her with a burst of rage.
Chief Burguk: Seems about right.
The first warrior took two swings at her with his great sword that were easily dodged. She quickly rotated one of her axes to the blunt side and took it across his jaw, putting her entire body into the blow. He never saw it coming. Blood and tusks flew out of his mouth as he fell to the ground. The spectating Orcs roared in excitement as two more went in for the attack. She swung both axes over her shoulders and crouched low while swinging side to side, almost like a boxing stance. Right as they approached she went into a spinning slide on her knees, sliding under the first attack and putting herself in between them both. She then used her axes to hook them both by the leg, and spun herself once more to yank them off of their feet. Both warriors fell into the dirt. In one motion she swung an axe low, hitting one Orc in the mouth, making a full arcing windmill with it to then drop it on the face of the other. Both spewed blood from their faces on contact, and were now out cold. Tharun was awestruck at the site of her prowess. He watched her disarm and incapacitate 3 other enemies with ease, all the while brimming with a sinister satisfaction. Soon only the large Orc was left standing, now sweating and frustrated at how easily the others went down.
Orc Warrior: Now that the small fry are out of the way. Allow me the chance to put you back in a woman's place.
She stands up straight and holds out both axes on each side of her.
Yaza: How bout I put you there first. Who knows, it might suit you better.
He began taking steps toward her with his weapons ready. She immediately bucked at him while growling, feinting an attack to startle him. This stopped him in his tracks for a short second. She laughed while flourishing her axes.
Yaza: That's two for flenching Dumbass!
She then charged at him full speed. Before he could react, she was up close and personal with an axe drawn all the way back. She hit him with the first, then the other in quick succession. He stumbled back a bit, slightly dazed from the assault. He then let out a ground shaking roar as he went on the offensive. He swung the orcish maces at her wildly, unable to land a blow. She dodged his attacks precisely, leaving no room for error. Tharun noticed how deliberate her foot placements were. Each movement setting her up for the next. It was as if she was forcing him into her own choreography. The large Orc was growing impatient and frustrated with the battle, slowly losing his nerve with every attack that was dodged or parried. She was quickly wearing him down. Each attempt to land a hit was responded with a punishing blow almost immediately. Before long the warrior was tired, his movements now sluggish. Drool crept from his mouth as he struggled to keep his sights on Yaza, who was nimbly hopping from one foot to the other in excitement. She was about to charge in once more, but was halted by the boom of her father's voice.
Chief Burguk: Yaza!
She stopped in her tracks with her focus now broken. It seemed everyone heeded his call despite it being for her alone. They were all now quiet and awaiting his next words. She huffed in frustration.
Yaza: Yes pop?
She turns to her father who was raising a cigar up to his lips while her mother lit it for him. He took a puff, followed by a french inhale, then exhaling the smoke through his nostrils. Yaza hated having to wait on his responses, especially publicly. He always took his time. Some sort of dominance thing she assumed.
Chief Burguk: Now what'd I tell you about that?
Tharun was a bit relieved. Finally the chief was about the reinstate order he thought. All this brutality had gone on long enough in his opinion.
Chief Burguk: Stop playing with your food. You'll set a bad example for the young ones.
Yaza let out a breath of adherence. She loved the thrill of battle, but it is quite dishonorable to torture a lesser opponent. Better to teach them their folly quickly and be done with it, especially if it's life threatening. She flicked both of her axes downward into the dirt, leaving them stuck blades down with the handles pointing up at an angle. She then walked right up to the warrior and punched him square in the face. She leaned into it a bit more after making contact, causing his to slam into the ground with monstrous force. Tharun's jaw had might as well been on the floor with him. The fight was over just like that. He felt foolish for being worried for her. He should've picked up on Burguk's calmness. He seemed more concerned about his son's altercation than anything else. Yaza stepped over her fallen opponent who was now lying in a crater of cracked earth. She had the option to kill him, but she wouldn't ruin her chances of kicking his ass in the future. She was immediately bored again now that her father made her end the fight. She walked under the overhead next to her parents and sat down with her back against one of the pillars.
Yaza: You really can't stand to see me having fun can you?
Burguk Ashes his cigar, chuckling while doing so.
Chief Burguk: Oh don't be like that my thorny little rosebud. You're my daughter after all. Gotta be a symbol to the other warriors. We talked about this.
Tharun: If I may,…
The chief and Yaza both looked at Tharun simultaneously, surprised to have been interrupted. Tharun noticed their expressions and was given cautious pause. Yaza's face twisted in confusion once she laid eyes on him.
Yaza: When did we start lettin' these in 'ere?
Burguk: Relax, it's just business. Sir Tharun here wishes to hire a sword-arm from us. So I'm givin'm a look at our stock.
Yaza: (Chuckles) Oh yeah? Sorry pal, most of'em just got beat to shit. Wish you'd have told me sooner.
She grins arrogantly while using her pinky nail to clean her ear. Tharun wasn't concerned with the other Orcs. His eyes were set on her. Despite the unpleasantness of the brutality, the way she fought was like art. She was exactly the type of warrior needed for his ambitious scheme. He cleared his throat to subdue the awkward tension he felt around him and continued.
Tharun: Well that's just it you see. After what I've witnessed I think it rather clear to me now, that the one for the job,…Is you madam.
Burguk: Out of the question. My rose bud's not goin' anywhere.
Yaza: Seriously? I don't even get a say?
Burguk: It's not up for discussion sweet pea. Sorry, but I've spoken.
Her eyes widened with disbelief and rage. Her teeth clinched. She immediately looked to her mother, who had no objections given her silence. She stood up and shook her head at the both of them.
Yaza: I don't get it,…I don't get you. What's all this training for if I can't ever leave? You won't let me be chief,…I can't do anything! I'm literally the best warrior here and you know that.
Burguk: No I don't,…and no you're not.
He cuts her a look as sharp as an assassins knife. She felt the weight of his glare in her chest. It felt like he had actually drawn his blade and put it to her neck. She realized she had overstepped, challenging both his strength and authority in the same breath. Most of the Orcs in the hold might confess that Yaza gets away with murder, but this was something Burguk tolerated from no one, not even from his brothers, Ghorbash the Iron Hand and Oglub. He stands up slowly from his chair, turning to face the back door of the longhouse.
Burguk: You still view fighting like a lad does his favorite ball. You may be good with a blade, but you are far from a warrior. You show me that every time you take to the battlefield. I didn't see a warrior out there today. I saw a child,…a bully. (Puffs cigar) Maybe one day when we don't have to have these discussions I'll consider it, but for now it's a no. Now drop it before I get pissed off.
He then flicks the cigar out into the field. It lands on the chest of the Orc Yaza had just beaten. Burguk stares at him for a moment while the cigar sizzles on his skin.
Burguk: You see shit-for-brains like him have to learn the hard way not to challenge me. That's the only way they can comprehend anything. (Turns his head to look at Yaza) Don't be like him. You're smarter than that.
He tosses the bag of coin back at Tharun. It lands in his hand with a soggy smack. The weight of the bag now feeling like the weight of disappointment.
Burguk: Sorry, but it doesn't look like we can help each other at present. Now leave.
Chief Burguk began making his way back into the Longhouse, followed by his wife who seemed to have worry on her face. Yaza sat with eyes to the sand, gritting her teeth to quell the fury building inside. Once her father was out of sight, she stood up with a jolt, as if hoisted by her own anger. She then swung her arm violently at one of the beams supporting the overhead, completely cleaving it in two. In the same motion she stormed off, absolutely fuming with her father. Tharun was promptly escorted back to the front gate. He was now a bit disheartened by this turn of events. As the doors to the stronghold closed behind him, he pondered his options at this point. Making it into an Orc stronghold was a feat in itself, but it yielded nothing in the way of achieving his goal. He'd have to keep searching it seemed.
The conversation for Burguk did not end outside as he had hoped however. A frustrated and pacing Shel was ripping his ears off with her worries while he sat on his thrown. The room was dimly lit from tusk-shaped candles hanging on a chandelier. He could only brood while she unloaded her fears everywhere.
Shel: This is your fault. Filling her head with dreams of battle and war. Now all she can even think about is getting out of here. To do what,…kill people? Get killed?
Burguk: Honey, you have to see that this is for the best. It was inevitable, from the first time the kid picked up a blade. The things between my first daughter and I, always made me wonder if I had just failed her as a father, or is it just natural differences. But this is different. This'll be good for her. Yaza I mean.
Shel: But what will everyone else think-
Her question was immediately followed by a knock at the door. The Chief goes to answer it, thankful for an interruption. It was Nagrub, looking as if he'd something urgent to say.
Burguk: What's the matter, kiddo?
Nagrub: Its Yaza. She's-…
Burguk: Gone,… I know.
Nagrub: And you're ok with this?
Burguk didn't answer. He knew his son was loyal to him, and that allowing Yaza to run off was an insult to that loyalty. He was aware of Nagrub's eagerness to see the world as well, to step out from under his shadow for once. Nagrub took his father's silence as complicity.
Nagrub: So that's it? Once again Yaza gets to do whatever the hell she wants, and we just have to eat shit.
Burguk walked away from Nagrub and Shel, disappearing into his bedchamber. They both stood in frustration. His silence and unwillingness to do anything about it was unlike him. Nagrub simply stood clenching his fists as Shel took a seat, fretting relentlessly.
On the outside of the fort, Tharun was making his way to the city of Markarth. He was in deep thought about what to do next. The day was eventful but fruitless, and he tired of drifting further from his goal. The sound of wild life around him made for a good thinking ambience. Bugs and birds alike all in harmony. That is until a voice came ripping through it all from behind him.
Voice: Oye! Wait up wouldya!
He turned to see an Orc woman running up to him, semi-covered in orkish armor. She removed her helmet and revealed that it was Yaza. She was brimming with excitement, devilishly smiling from ear to ear.
Yaza: Geez you move fast. Almost thought I wouldn't catch ya' in time.
Tharun was unable to speak, and lost in questions at the sight of her. The most important being what of her father?
Yaza: Well? You gonna tell me who the mark is or what?
Tharun: Your father explicitly forbade you from joining me did he not?
Yaza: I ain't chase you all the way here to talk about mi' pops. I'm gonna be bigger than that ol' green ballsack anyways. (Folds arms) So let's 'ear it then. This job of yours.
Tharun looked around cautiously. Before speaking.
Tharun: It's best not to speak openly about such things. Come. We'll talk more in the city. ( Turns to start walking but is given pause) And,…you're sure this won't be a family crisis?
Yaza: I'm not going back if that's what your yankin' at.
Tharun: Right,…well then. I suppose this belongs to you then. (Tosses her the bag of coin) A down payment for the job ahead. You'll get the rest and much more once you bring me the target. Shall we?
He stuck out his hand, signaling her to take the lead. She couldn't take her eyes off the coin purse at first. She'd never had her own money to spend before. This was a new kind of freedom. She slowly began walking past Tharun, now completely exhilarated at the adventure to come. Tharun followed behind her with an ominous grin about his face. He was now in a position to get his life back. His station. With a warrior like Yaza under his employ, Eradros was as good as captured.
Meanwhile: Back at the Orc Stronghold.
Chief Burguk finally emerged from his chambers, now with a weapon in his hand. It was an orkish bow with decorative leather wrappings. He tossed it to Nagrub, who barely managed to catch it in time. He looked at it, and then to his father with confusion.
Nagrub: This is,…the bow you won for beating Uncle.
Burguk: I told your mother to give it to you the day you finally beat me in combat. But I think this is a better use for it.
Nagrub was given pause. He was unsure of what his father's intentions were. Was he trying to buy his forgiveness with trinkets? No that can't be it, he thought. Burguk cares for his children, but he isn't the type to beg for their adoration.
Nagrub: I don't understand.
Burguk: You're goin' after her. And you're gonna need a better bow than that old thing.
Nagrub: You want me,…to make her come back? This is Yaza we're talking about. She'd literally kill me for even suggesting it.
Burguk: Not bring her back. Keep her safe. She's tough,…maybe even tougher than your old man, but she ain't my brightest bud by far. And the Altmer fella,…Tharun was his name I think. He's just the type of cunning bastard that could take advantage of a klutz like Yaza.
Nagrub: But,…who's going to hunt for the stronghold if I'm gone?
Burguk: For the love of,…Look, you want outta here too don't you? You're a good son. Strong, thoughtful, loyal. But you're not a battle crazy meathead like the rest of us. So here's your chance kiddo.
Nagrub: She won't be happy about me tagging along. Might even outright refuse.
Burguk lights a cigar and takes a seat on his thrown.
Burguk: She doesn't get a say in this. She'll likely try to avoid you if she knows you're watching. So keep out of sight. You're the best hunter in the hold. I'm sure you can handle a little stealth recon. ( Turns to Shel) Everybody happy now?
Shel's worry turned to relief almost instantly. She still wasn't excited about her Yaza being away from home, but with her older brother looking out for her, she at least was sure to be fine. Nagrub had never seen such an understanding side of his father. It was probably best that he get to it before the man came to his senses. He gripped the bow tightly, feeling liberated with the weight of it in his hand. He turned to leave the longhouse, but was halted by his father's voice.
Burguk: Oh and son,…Don't let me down.
Chapter end-