Recent Statuses

22 Apr 2017 17:36
Current Y'know, after the whole United Airlines fiasco, flights are probably going to be cheap for a while.
1 like
4 Apr 2017 17:23
I am sure glad that this is private, I wouldn't want people to know about my deep dark secrets like how Roze, Hank and I have partes sticking poprocks up each other's butts. Hope no one sees this!
4 Apr 2017 17:05
lol that sidebar tho
25 Aug 2016 0:38
If at first you don't succeed, crush it.
18 Jun 2016 2:47
Hugely cutting down on my RP load due to stress, general apathy, and restarting work on Monday. It's becoming too much of a chore.


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Most Recent Posts

A Proposal

Racing the sun usually was something where one comes up short while travelling long distances since any number of factors could prevent one from reaching their intended destination before nightfall. Providence shined this time, however, and the small, squat abodes of Dawnstar came into view just down the road and the dying light was still beaming its last breathe between the mountainous peaks to the Southwest, as if leaving a convenient beacon of where one should travel if they wished to reach Markarth. Khazki adjusted her rucksack, the straps weighing down uncomfortably on her pauldrons despite the padding involved. It was a familiar pain, and one that the Khajiit rarely paid mind to, but after marching for the past 8 or 9 hours without more than a half-hour break in between, it was beginning to feel like a load of bricks. She’d seldom been more enthused to see a crappy Nord fishing village than she was at this point; it meant she beat the Kamal advance. Her biggest fear was arriving too late and finding Dawnstar occupied and having nowhere else to flee. The noose was tightening around the Pale, and more than a few of the refugees she’d bumped into seemed to confirm that sentiment. Windhelm, just North of Whiterun… the Akaviri invaders were getting bolder and pushing further in-land and word was that Tamrielic races were either forced to serve them or did so willingly.

It wasn’t something Khazki fancied for herself. And so, not trusting her ability to make it to Solitude before her luck or strength ran out, she headed North, knowing Dawnstar was the last bastion of safety for getting out of the frigid waste the locals called Skyrim. Up until very recently, it had never occurred to the Khajiit that Dawnstar was somewhere anyone would want to go willingly, and yet here it was before her own eyes, the most beautiful eyesore one could imagine since docked invitingly was a high-masted ship, her ticket to safety. Laying her greatsword across her shoulders to give her arms a break and to appear less fight-happy to the guards she’d spotted up ahead, Khazki pressed on, thinking that a bowl of mutton stew sounded damn fine at this juncture. It had been two weeks since she ate a meal she didn’t have to prepare herself.

Off the road and distinctly outside of the town like some kind of quarantine zone was an Argonian encampment, likely because the Jarl was one of many who thought Beast races were little more than wildlife that forgot their station in life, but in this instance, Khazki couldn’t say she blamed the decision; Argonians were alien, strange, and if the tales of their homeland were to believed, probably disease carriers of unparalleled capacity. Just because they didn’t get sick didn’t mean germs didn’t thrive in their bodies. It was reason enough to give the camp a wide berth, and grip her sword tighter when she made eye contact with a small group of them. They didn’t approach, which worked out best for both parties.

Arriving at the guards, both Nord men were visibly tense. “Halt! Stay your business!”

“I’m chartering a ship.” Khazki replied. She suspected she’d be answering that particular line of inquiry a lot. “There’s a bunch of Kamal a lot closer to here than I’d like.”

That apparently was the wrong thing to say. The guards stood closure, shields held much more at the ready position than before. “Where’s your caravan, cat? Did the damned elves send you?” the younger of the two pressed on, far more assertively than he looked like he could muster. Idiot looked like he barely knew his way around a razor blade, let alone a sword. Was everywhere this hard up for reliable fighters?

“Oh, for fuck’s… I’m traveling alone!” she retorted, her legs far apart and tail flicking irritably. “Look, sir, boy, whatever. I’ve had a long day and if I’d been a Thalmor stooge, I’d have snuck in the dead of night in the numerous blind spots and not be wearing heavy steel armour. The golden pricks were enough a problem in Elsweyr, and I came up here to get away from their sneering horse faces and sickly complexions. I really don’t care what you all do here, I just want a spot on that ship when it sets out, or is that too hard for your frost-addled brain to process?”

“That’s what a Thalmor agent would say to make us let our guard down.” The youth pressed on.

“Ugh. You’re one of those.” Khazki rolled her eyes. “Look, asshole. Mister asshole. Can I call you that? A whole bunch of displaced vagabonds are making their way here, and it’s a mixed bag of what you’re getting. You going to question every single prick that shows up at your gates like they’re all potential spies? Besides, you over-eager bog sniffer, Pelletine hasn’t been a part of the Dominion for years, so their well of Khajiit puppets is well on its way to drying up.” She stepped closer, pressing up against the shield, looking the man dead in the eyes. Jutting her thumb back towards the Argonian camp, she said, “Look, if you aren’t going to give me passage, I’m going back there and telling those fine walking handbags that you guys slipped up and were planning on sending in an extermination squad to clear out the camp to free up resources. They may not believe me, but it’ll stick, trust me. I can either be a slight pain in your ass or the biggest you’ve ever dealt with.” Reaching into the coin purse on her belt, Khazki pulled out a pair of coins. “For your trouble.”

Minutes of arguing later, the guards acquiesced after conceding that if she was a spy, she wouldn’t go out of her way to be so memorable. And so after a short spell, Khazki was standing well within the limits of Dawnstar, looking up at the ship she’d spotted from outside of the town, and for potential crew to speak with. None stuck out from the usual dock workers. Deciding to give one of them a try, a voice came behind her,

“Pardon this one, but he does not believe he’s seen you around. It’s rare to see another Khajiit.”

Turning to face the source of address, Khazki was confronted by a Suthay-Raht, a rusty coat of fur, a pitted ear, and kindly amber-orange eyes looking up at her invitingly. He was garbed in a grey budi, a staff in hand. He also wasn’t wearing boots; an exceptionally stupid thing to do in Skyrim.

“I’m new to town. You know who owns this vessel?” she redirected the question, gesturing at the ship.

The other Khajiit pondered that for a moment. “A man named Gustav, this one thinks. The captain is one Karena Wave-Rider. Currently, they’re hired by this one’s mercenary outfit. Why, are you looking for passage?” he inquired.

Khazki stared at him incredulously. “You? Are mercenary? What, do you fight with that stick?”

That prompted his expression to sour somewhat. “Of course. And well, Do’Karth might add.”

“What do you do, inconvenience them to death?” Khazki sneered. “And Do’Karth? What, you fancy yourself a warrior, do you? No one uses that prefix unless they earned it.”

“This one was the Mane’s bodyguard, in Torval.” Do’Karth said defensively, deciding rather suddenly he did not care for this stranger. He’d expected a new Khajiit would have been overjoyed to find out they weren’t alone in Skyrim, which was hardly welcoming at the best of times.

A tight-lipped smile did not match Khazki’s eyes. “Stellar job you did on that one. Mane’s dead, you’re out of work and run out of town. That how it all went down?”

Do’Karth scowled. “Do’Karth had left long before that happened!” The nerve of this woman!

Khazki extended her hands out on either side dramatically, looking up at the sky. “All the better! You deserted your post and weren’t around to make a difference when it actually mattered. Thanks for that, a civil war was just what we all needed. You from Anequina?” she asked.

“Gods, that explains so much. So, Do’Karth the Deserter, where’s your boss? I want on that ship, and if the likes of you is what’s on offer, it won’t be hard to get signed on.” She prompted.

He gestured haphazardly. “Go on then, make a fool of yourself. He’s in the big tent nearest the docks to the East. Be warned, he tends to like his brutes to have some manners.”

“’A fool’, says the guy who confuses a stick for a weapon.” She said, stepping away with a lazy parting wave of the hand. It didn’t take long for her to find where Do’Karth’s boss was holed up; it was the tent with the very mercenary-looking guards standing watch, a mixed-race rabble with mix-match sets of armour and weaponry. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about wearing the team uniform.

After addressing the guards and saying she wished to enlist, the guard closest to the door, a big Orc, requested she turn over her weapons when speaking to the man. Pulling her dagger free from her belt and handing over her sword with the blade towards the ground, the tent flap was pulled aside and she had to adjust her eyes to the candle-lit quarters of a Redguard man dabbing at a split, swollen lip with a damp cloth. He looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and irritation.

“State your business.” He announced in a voice that suggested he was a reasoned leader, at the very least.

“Boy, you look like shit.” Khazki replied flippantly, arms crossed, her stance askew. “I heard you’re the man to talk to about getting on that ship docked outside. The big one.”

If Ashav was rising up to the bait, he didn’t give an indication of it. “My company is chartering its services, yes. If you’re looking for transport, I’m afraid it’s dedicated to the war front, and unless that’s where you intend to go, you’re better off talking to one of the fishermen and seeing if you can bribe him to take you where you need to go.”

“So, let’s say Dawnstar’s about to be overrun by our Snow Demon friends, you’ll be taking that ship somewhere where they aren’t I trust?” Khazki inquired.

“Something like that. We were stationed in Windhelm until it was overrun. It’s likely we’ll have to relocate if Dawnstar looks to share the same fate. Looking for work?” the Redguard asked.

“Something like that.” Khazki replied with a shrug. “I know how to fight, if that’s what you’re wondering. I don’t care much about the pay, although I won’t say no to the usual rate. I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t desperate looking for any chance off this rock before the Kamal show up, and if I have to work my ass off to get that chance, then so be it, I’ll fight for you and my baton spinning brethren I’ve already met. Besides, I reckon I stand a better chance fighting alongside others when I run into the Snow Demons than if they caught up to me. When they catch up, let’s not delude ourselves.”

Ashav considered this for a moment, studying Khazki with stoic dark eyes. For someone who looked like they’d been mugged, he still maintained an authoritative manner about him. “Sounds like you’re just planning on using us to escape, then what?”

“I like big boats, I cannot lie. But let’s make this simple. You sign me in for a one month contract, if I try skipping the ranks before the signed date, I’m a deserter and we both know how that works out for people. At the end of it, maybe I reenlist, maybe I part ways. But let’s be frank…”


“Ashav.” Khazki acknowledged. “Nowhere’s going to be safe from what’s going on all over Tamriel. Everywhere sounds like it’s a festering wound that’s been torn open and if I’m being frank, I’m an adventurer that’s looking for a claim to fame. I’m not keen on selling my soul to a uniform, but if you’re willing to hire an idiot with a stick without demanding he change, I’m a golden saint in comparison. I’ll fight your war, Ashav, if you’ll have me.”

After a moment’s consideration, Ashav extended a hand. A handshake and a signed contract later, Khazki secured her way out of Skyrim when the time came. Folding her copy of the contract and stuffing it in her armour, Khazki made her way out of the tent, secured her weapons, and made way to hunt down that mutton stew that danced tantalizingly in her thoughts.
<Snipped quote by SgtEasy>

I swear if anyone went for the robot romance route, they're gonna get thrown around xD

Anyways, Easy we should do a little collab to get Phalanx and Easy to the meeting point :D

Have you tried turning it off and on again?
A Tender Moment for Two

A Collab by @Dervish and @MacabreFox

Cradling his face in her hands, tears filled her eyes as she gazed back into the brilliant amber eyes of Do’Karth. Her lips trembled as they parted into a grin, she kissed him again. Once on the lips, on his snout, and then each cheek. She pulled him into a crushing embrace, relieved that the fighting had stopped and at the fact that she had her lover again in her arms. She buried her nose into his shoulder and inhaled his musky scent. “Oh Do’Karth…” Sevine murmured as she ran her hands up and down his back.

“I was so worried about you,” she said at last, pulling away from him to look him square in the eye, “Are you hurt?”

The Khajiit shook his head, running his fingers down Sevine’s cheek. His smile didn’t falter. “Nothing that won’t heal on its own. Every hit taken is a lesson.” he said, looking her over, noticing immediately the bandages wrapped about her limbs. His expression grew concerned. “What happened? What can Do’Karth do to help?” he asked, immediately switching to a caretaker personality, much like when they first met. “May this one have a look?”

Of all people, Do’Karth would be the last one she would keep anything from. She rolled back onto her buttocks, and extended both limbs out to him to inspect. “It was during the first part of the mission. We were investigating the fires in the woods when this Nord man emerged from the forest being chased by a swarm of angry bees. That wasn’t the end of it, because behind him came some spriggans and some wolves. Which is what you see here,” she gestured with a wave of her left hand, “I tried to draw away the wolves from the group. I thought I could take care of them, after all, they’re only wolves. That’s what I told myself, at least. I barely had time to fight back before they took me down, and shook me like a ragdoll. I’ve tried to clean the wounds, I used some brandy to disinfect it, but the journey back didn’t give me the chance to take care of myself.” She paused in her explanation, should she tell him of the Kamal attack at the inn? Better let him start on the first batch of wounds before she told him.

Do’Karth looked over the wounds, as frightening as they were, and listened to the story of how the mission panned out, it sounded utterly miserable, and perhaps a little terrifying. Being eaten alive was one of the ways Do’Karth absolutely feared to go, so hearing Sevine’s ordeal made his heart sink. She was much better than she had the right to be, he thought, but still, the marks might remain for some time. On the plus side, they didn’t appear to be infected; whatever she had done had staved off the worst of it. “Just in case, let us obtain a cure disease potion, but your wounds do not appear to be infected. All Do’Karth thinks he needs to do is change our bandages to some fresh ones.” he said with a reassuring smile, taking her hand with his own. “It must have been horrifying! Do’Karth has come across the lone wolf or two here and there in his journeys, but never like that.” He said, looking over the mangled and raw flesh, mangled and with obvious tearing. It looked awful, but several years of practice on countless people, and his own trials, gave Do’Karth a pretty good idea of how bad wounds could appear without necessarily being infected. She would be fine, if given time to heal.

He found some fresh and clean bandages, and applying more alcohol to the wound, Do’Karth began to rebandage Sevine once more. “Did you find the cause of the fires?” he asked, focused on the task at hand. “This one is sorry he was not able to join you. It was frustrating being apart and not knowing what was happening with you, Sevine. This one knows he told Leif that he wasn’t going to stand in the way of your duties as a warrior, but it does not mean he does not worry about you or want to keep you safe.” he said, smiling sadly as he met Sevine’s eyes.

A burning fire rose to her cheeks as their eyes met again, she knew that Leif had acted out of spite, out of guilt for not being there as he always had been, but Do’Karth made a good point. She was a warrior, not someone that needed to be doted upon. A smile spread across her lips as her gaze shifted to Do’Karth’s hands skillfully wrapping her wounds in fresh linen. “In a way yes, I did not go with the rest of our company because of,” she wiggled her injured limbs, “these. I stayed behind with Keegan and Rhasha’Dar. Daelin suffered severe injuries when they went to investigate, something about a pyromancer and his desire to cleanse impure trees is what I gleaned from the situation. We retreated to Nightgate to recuperate, and that…” She hesitated in her speech, the truth would have to come out now. “What have you heard, in regards to Jorwen?” She began in a tone of concern. Sevine knew that Do’Karth shared a friendship with the Red-Bear, and what he knew already, she could not say.

A knot began to grow at the back of Do’Karth’s throat.The sudden implication, the way her pitch changed to almost sound consolatory, made the Khajiit fear the worst. He could still picture Jorwen’s face quite readily from the day they met, the impressive red beard and the warm smile behind it all that belied a lifetime of hardship, and the unlikely kinship he offered Do’Karth when few others would have even spoken with him at all. “This one… has heard nothing. Is he,” Do’Karth’s lips pursed tensely, his gaze darting to the side, not wishing to speak the word. “Is he dead?”

Her eyes burned at Do’Karth’s words, her hands curled into clenched fists that rested atop her knees, “I don’t know,” she said, “The Kamals… We were at Nightgate when they came in the dead of night.” She struggled to speak as her head swam with disbelief.

“We fought hard to keep them at bay, but there were so many. Even with the help of the Braves, we couldn’t hold our ground for much longer. Rhasha and I were focused on rescuing Daelin, and I…” She paused in her speech where she lifted her eyes to meet Do’Karth’s. All moisture in her mouth disappeared, leaving her without the ability to speak further on the matter.

“I didn’t see what happened to him, we had to retreat in the end. It wasn’t until we gained some distance that I realized that the Red-Bear wasn’t with us.” She said, her eyes were fixated on her partner, watching his every move.

Do’Karth locked up, unmoving as a statue as he took in the news, his heart torn a dozen different ways between hope and despair. He couldn’t imagine what they’d endured fighting the Kamal on their terms without the fortifications Windhelm offered, and if they had to leave Jorwen. Do’Karth desperately needed to believe Jorwen was still alive, that he could be saved; another part of him felt that it would have been better if Jorwen were killed rather than captured. After seeing what had happened on the frigate, the thought of that happening to the closest friend he’d had since leaving Torval made him choke up. His fists clenched and relaxed over his knees, his eyes sinking downward. Tears fought to break through their ducts and the Khajiit inhaled so sharply it sounded like a hiss. His body began to tremble and quake. He’d known loss before, but something about this seemed so unfair, so unnecessary. Do’Karth’s thoughts immediately thought about Jorwen’s family, Halla and Solveig. It had seemed impossible the Nord wouldn’t make it through this war, and now there was a very real chance that one of the very few people that Do’Karth cared for above all else were gone forever.

He took Sevine’s hand into both of his, holding onto her with the same determination as if he might lose her, too. “You did all you could, Do’Karth knows that. He is so happy you came back to him, if this one lost you too…” he trailed off, leaning forward to lean his forehead against Sevine’s. A strained sob racked his body, what will he had to resist deteriorating. “Do’Karth should have been there for Jorwen, for you. He let you both down, he could have done something… anything!” he cried, collapsing to his side, his limbs losing feeling. Laying on the ground beside Sevine, her hand still his his own, “How can Do’Karth make this right?” he asked quietly, tears flowing freely.

Her heart came close to stop beating upon witnessing his anguish. When he collapsed onto the ground, Sevine’s own tears broke. This was too cruel. It would be different if the Kamals weren't, well, Kamals. If they had been Man, it would have been easier to handle. She could have stayed, and fought with every last breath in her body. Cracked ribs or no, she would have stayed. Like a caring mother cradling a grieving child, Sevine pulled Do’Karth’s head into her lap where she proceeded to stroke his ears, and scratch his chin.

A tear rolled down her nose, splashing onto his chest. She could do nothing but shake her head, “There is nothing you could have done. We were lucky, we were all lucky we were able to escape. Let us pray that Jorwen has been captured, not slaughtered, for he still may have a fighting chance.” Her hands drifted across the fur on his nose, stroking his snout and his throat.

And so she quietly began to explain the events of Nightgate to him, why she did so, she did not know, perhaps it was the only thing she could think about. “Rhasha, and I shimmied out of a window while the others went around front. We scouted out back to make sure no bandits would sneak up on us, then we headed around front to join the others. We joined Marcel, and Keegan, and spotted Daelin trying to attack one of the Kamals, I couldn't understand how he was up and moving already, but he was. So Rhasha and I decided that we better get him out of there while we can. He didn't stand much of a chance, not with his injuries. I distracted the Kamal, by the gods are they big, while Rhasha got Daelin out of harm’s way. And what a mistake that was.” As she spoke, she kept her voice quiet and soft, hoping to soothe Do’Karth, “I lost my axe in the fray, and you won't believe this, but I climbed that damn Kamal. Stuck a dagger right in his temple. Did it do a damn thing? Heavens no. He plucked me off like mud from a boot, and chucked me a good couple yards. That's not the worst of it.” Sevine smiled at the thought, Oblivion be damned, she was alive.

“I had to make sure that Rhasha could get to safety, so I circle around behind the Kamal, and I shoot off an arrow, aiming to distract or injure I don't know which. But, would you believe it? Poor thing, I struck Rhasha instead.” She said through a half-hearted sigh. “It was a goddamn mess. We ended up rolling Daelin down the hill as we retreated, so that I could help Rhasha stay on his feet. We walked for miles after that. Walked until our legs almost gave out from under us. One of the Braves asked me what the point of fighting was, and I thought of you. Gods did I think of you, Do’Karth. Coming back to you was all I could think of. And that's how we got home. That's how I got back to you.” She stalled in her retelling of the tale to glance down at Do’Karth.

Having his head in Sevine’s lap was calming, a deep primal part of his memory vaguely recalled his mother doing something similar for him when he was very young. Back when she acknowledged this one was still her son. he thought, not as bitterly as he might have expected. He barely remembered what she looked like it had been so long ago. His breathing was still shaky, but the tremors and sobs had resided. “What had happened to Daelin?” he asked, looking up at Sevine, drinking in the brilliant emerald colour of her eyes.

“Daelin?” It dawned on her that, Do’Karth had not been there, “Oh yes… I’ve not heard details on the matter, when we were in the woods, those who were not injured went with the Nord man that had appeared being chased by bees. I heard they found a cave or some other where this pyromancer was holed up. Fires inside caves don’t work out all too well, and Daelin had serious burns from the event. We weren’t sure if he was going to make it, that’s why I was so surprised to see him up and running around. He should have been fleeing.” Her hands continued to scratch Do’Karth’s fur.

’He’s like a giant kitty-cat…’ she mused.

“There is so much this one does not know about what happened, but fear not; Do’Karth will get you a new axe.” he promised with a smile. “He promised he wouldn’t interfere with your duties as a warrior, and that you did not need protection, but he said nothing about providing you with the means.” he said, tilting his head slightly as Sevine’s nails found a particularly wondrous spot to work their magic. Without realizing it, a slight rumble escaped his diaphragm as his eyes shut somewhat. “Do’Karth remembers how awkward he felt when you asked if you could touch his fur, now look at him.”

There were two emotions that arose in Sevine, the first being gratitude at the suggestion of him replacing her axe, and the second being elation, she remembered when she had asked him, in Leif’s house at that, if she could touch his fur. “Do’Karth,” she said, “I am grateful for the offer, and while it shames me that the company has not provided me enough coin for this mission, I would be reluctant for you to do so.” She bent down and kissed his brow.

“Coin is of no concern to Do’Karth, what use does he have of it other than food and services?” he replied rhetorically with a slight smile. “Please, think nothing of it. You need a weapon; this one will make sure you are never unprepared.

“As for your fur…” A light came to Sevine’s eyes as she peered down into the pools of warm honey, “It is a marvelous creation, and I am honored that you allowed me to touch you so. While us Nords can tolerate the cold, I often wonder if a layer of fur would keep out the cold. And most importantly, I cannot get over the fact at how soft it is.” Sevine said as a grin split her face in two. By simply being in his presence, her worries and concerns had disappeared. Even the fight with Leif, she cared not, let him make a fool of himself, for he acted like a fool. But, here with Do’Karth, she could only experience happiness. They were together again. What more could she ask?

“I do have one question to ask you… will you take a look at my ribs?” She asked, why couldn’t she learn restoration like the others? Magic and its concept had always evaded her understanding.

“Of course.” He replied, sitting up. He made sure to adjust the tent flap to give more privacy. “You’ll need to, ah, pull your blouse up.” He said, recalling how bashful he was when she had removed her pants when they first met and he was dressing a stab wound. It was less embarrassing now, but this level of intimacy was still quite unfamiliar for him. This was purely a medical check, but still, it was hard not to feel somewhat bashful.

While Sevine prepared herself,Do’Karth made sure to clean and dry his hands the best he could. “Khajiit are of the desert, our fur is meant to shed heat, keep it from our skin. Believe this one when he says it does very little against Skyrim’s bite. But he is glad it has another purpose.” He replied, turning with a question, “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” She said. One arm covered her breasts, while she stretched her arm as high as she could overhead. Her ribs were a colorful mixture of dark purple, blue and yellow. Her face twisted at extending her arm, it certainly hurt to breathe. “So enough about me, my love. How fared the mission to Bthamz?”
The Khajiit shuffled over to Sevine on his knees, given the low headspace in the tent, he examined her skin, noticing some pretty bad bruising immediately. “Do’Karth is going to run his fingers along each of your ribs, trying to feel for a fracture or break. It will hurt along the bruising, but if it is deeper, let him know.” he said, his mind switching from awkward sensual thoughts of his half-naked lover to a purely medical perspective now he had something to focus on. In response to her question, he breathed out between teeth. “We did not fare much better out in the Sea of Ghosts. This one is beginning to feel that ships are entirely cursed. Although Do’Karth does not relish the idea of burning alive, drowning somehow seems worse.” he said, slowly tracing his fingers along the uppermost rib. “Everything went fine initially; we found the ruin, and a deployment of Ashlanders that were working with the Kamal. We managed to fight them to submission, this is how Leif received his injuries. One of those Dwemer spider contraptions jumped him. The new Dunmer woman in our company was also wounded, poor woman. First assignment and she’s nearly killed.” He paused, looking up at Sevine’s face. “She’s fine now, don’t worry. We didn’t have casualties in the ruins.” with a downcast expression, he shook his head and continued.

“It wasn’t until we got back to sea that we had our losses. Do you remember Niernen? Her and another Dunmer named Valen had escaped captivity by the Kamal and had made it to Bthamz and Niernen was overjoyed to see this one, the feeling was mutual, but… perhaps not the way she expected.” Do’Karth said with an apologetic smile. “Apparently Do’Karth is quite attractive to strange and exotic women for similar reasons, but he has a hard time imagining he needs more in life than the sight of you in the mornings… sorry, back to what I was saying. After we left, death followed. The Kamal prison frigate engaged our ships, sinking the escort vessel and damaging Kyne’s Tear. We had obtained Dwemer ballista from the ruins and had armed the vessels with them, and they were what decided the battle. There’s… there’s a chance this one would be in a cage right now if it weren’t for those weapons and the bravery of others.” Do’Karth said solemnly, pausing over Sevine’s heart. When his hand stopped over her heart, she gently guided him to a rib where she had felt the worst of the pain.

“Here.” She said, nodding for him to continue.

“Valen was killed in the fighting, and the Argonian leader, the Pakseech or whichever he was called. The Kamal were using the Argonian prisoners’ souls as fuel for their ships. It’s how they move without sails, it is insidious and horrible. We won the battle, but many were killed at the expense of taking down each and every Kamal on the ship. We had managed to rescue most of the prisoners, sparing them of that fate, but the cost was extraordinary.” Do’Karth said, gritting his teeth. “This one hates this war. He cannot close his eyes and not see Valen falling to his death, over and over again. How do you fight literal monsters? How does Do’Karth justify his vows when there is such great evil preying on the innocent?”

His recount of the mission left her stunned. She turned her head to look him in the eye, his last words struck her even deeper. Her heart ached to comfort him, and so she did. The arm extended in the air dropped, where she placed her hand upon his shoulder. “All monsters have a weakness.” Sevine said, rubbing his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. “War is like a grindstone. Round and round the wheel goes, crushing harvested wheat under its weight, none can escape its clutches, everyone is affected in some way. But you… you do not have to be the wheel. You can be the one who tends to the wheel, so to speak. You do not have to kill anyone, but you can help in the mechanics of war, and that is something most people do not understand. To keep the war running like a grindstone, someone has to tend to it. Someone has to devise plans, and oversee other important tasks.” Her hand traveled up to his cheek where she stroked it with her thumb. “I am sorry about Valen. I am here if you need to speak, or if you do not wish to speak at all.” She said.

There was wisdom through experience in Sevine’s words, and Do’Karth resigned himself to the comfort of her touch. Closing his eyes, he steadied his breathing much like when he meditated. It was a calming ritual. “The pain will pass in time. Everything is just fresh, is all. For now, let us focus on getting you better, yes?” he replied with a slight upturn of a smile. “Thank you for giving Do’Karth perspective. It is times like these it is hard to see the way forward, but we will get there together… speaking of which, nothing appears to be broken, but there is a chance that you may have a cracked rib or two. This one suggests we get you to a restoration mage.” He said, leaning back onto his haunches. “Do’Karth will take care of that for you, you stay and rest, he will be back soon… promise.”

Running his hand along Sevine’s cheek one last time, the Khajiit low walked to the tent flaps, departing quickly to find a proper healer for Sevine, or at the very least a potion. He headed down the hill, a mixture of conflicting emotions that had come to light over the past hour forcing him to slow down, bracing against a tree for support. His blood was still pumping from the fight, and he was tired, emotionally and physically. Still, he was overjoyed to have found Sevine again, and while she was hurt, she would get better with his help. “That is what you should focus on. Let the rest of it drift into the ether.” he consoled himself, breathing deeply and shaking off the malignant feelings for a few moments. Feeling somewhat more focused and sure of himself, Do’Karth once more made his way to the Dawnstar docks.

Do’Karth’s eyes immediately were drawn to something rather out of place; another Khajiit, a woman in Nord-style armour. She seemed lost; at the very least, he could show her the right way and talk to someone from home… news from Anequina was few and far between, and she would be a lead of sorts, he hoped.

What was the harm in saying hello?
<Snipped quote by MrDidact>

Now you've had the carrot, here comes the stick.


@gcold Donezel Washington.

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