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[b]A night to remember[/b]
[i]10th of Sun's Height, Dawnstar.[/i]
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[i]These nights have been long, and bloody.

Had the smooth-skins listened to the red moons in the sky, perhaps death may have been avoided. But the Kamal are formidable foes, and this one does not know whether the fore-warning from the sky would have done any good to the dead in Windhelm.

This one is lucky to count myself among the alive, alongside old friends, and new ones that this one has made... a surprisingly delightful  discovery, despite all the sorrow of the past few days. Many preconceptions this one has had about other races - although this one strives to avoid such speculations about others, knowing well how hurtful these prejudices can be to a race - have been broken. An Argonian spoke to this one pleasantly, alongside an Imperial by the name of Sagax... and then the curious happening of Sevine. Such a Nord woman would - traditionally - dislike and mistrust the Khajiit, for even this one knows what reputation the Khajiiti caravans have in this land. But she did not - this Sevine was kind, and even so forward as to request touching this one's fur. Not that it was an insult to this one; more a compliment, and a humbling one for that. The feeling of a smooth-skin caressing this one's fur was a curious sensation, and one that this Khajiit will not soon forget. For who could forget such a thing? That small act of pure inquisitiveness was almost akin to a beacon of hope in such dark times - that small things existed to cause enjoyment despite the slaughter that may occur outside of your city gates. And it was all the more enthralling, coming from a warrior woman with a Goddess hidden in her green eyes and a fury in her heart that is matched only by the red of her mane-[/i][/center]


"What are you writing now, furball? It'd better be about my armless exploits."

Sylvanis' abrupt words shattered Rhasha's concentration, and he looked to his Bosmeri friend with a light jolt, tiny drops of ink flicking from his quill at the movement.

"Ah... just about the events that have passed." He replied hastily, allowing the words to dry before closing his small journal. Now having calmed his mind and away from dangers, Rhasha had found some time to finally write in the book once more. Not that the words were particularly easy to write, at some times. "I'll be sure to include you - do not fear, Sylva. How could this one tell the story of the siege of Windhelm without mentioning you and your hammer?" He added with a grin, standing up and stretching. The pair were sat among the Khajiiti caravaners, on the outskirts of Dawnstar.

Following the finding of Sylva - and her missing arm - things had become far worse for the people of Windhelm. First of all, a riot broke out; the Argonians, demanding to leave the city, eventually becoming a swarm of fury and frenzy and destroying - or, at least attempting to - everything and everyone in their path. At this point, Rhasha'Dar had stood guard by the alleyway which led to the cluster of wounded that lay in the area; his spear in hand, a defensive stance locking his legs into place, and a stoic look set in his eyes - if the people chose to panic, that was to their own will. But he would not allow them to hurt the already injured and dying in the process of it.

As luck would have it, the riot avoided that area of Windhelm they lay in, and the city quieted... most of the noises only belonging to the crash and crumble of the debris hitting various things, and the occasional scream or wail in the distance. More died, more were injured, and some recovered from their wounds - Sylvanis included. Well, as best as one could recover from losing a limb, especially when one needed it as much as she did. But, infection stayed, and dues to the Kamal which had amputated her - the cut had been a very clean one. Almost surgical, which was concerning to say the least... just how advanced were these creatures to have weapons of surgical standard? The axe that had mutilated his Bosmer friend must have been sharp enough to shatter other metals, and the strength behind it was a force to behold. Rhasha's ribs still ached from where the Kamal had flung him against the wall in the first wave of attacks. And that had been with just a flick of the beasts' wrist.

As it happened, the true complicity of the Kamal made itself known with the prospect of victory or defeat by single combat... a shocking ploy, but a futile one on the side of the people in Windhelm. Nobody had expected such an offer, but considering the sheer awesomeness of the Kamal, it would be a pointless venture by the Jarl. Having donned Sylvanis' gauntlets to carry both her hefty warhammer and his own weapons and pack (She had been strong enough to at least carry her own pack, thank Azurah), they took refuge with the others, (While in the safehouse, even coming across a poor fellow he was actually able to help. A young Redguard, suffering from a not so kind poison - he was able to lessen the man's fever and pain after brewing and administering a potion for the fellow, instantly curing him), and then following on as they fled the city in the underground tunnels.

That action did not exactly sit well in the heart of Rhasha'Dar - leaving the people to an unknown fate at the hands of the Snow Demons. What did they plan on doing to the survivors of Windhelm? What had been their motive in attacking the city in the first place? Was this an invasion ploy?

Such questions were being pondered by most, Rhasha supposed. So he did not ask them, because he knew nobody had the answers... all the group had was the want - no, the [i]need[/i] - to survive this. That was why they had fled. To survive, and to tell others of what had happened.

Because hopefully, if the other cities had warning, they could stop this.

"This one is going for a wander, Sylva. Stay out of trouble - and for the love of Ahnurr, don't get involved with any bets with the twins. They'll swindle you, arm or no." Rhasha gently nudged Sylvanis with the toe of his boot, and she glared up at him from the floor, punching the offending foot.

"I'll bet as I please, you cur. I may have lost an arm, but I have enough smarts left in me to know when I'm being cheated of a few septims."

"Hmm... if you say so, Sylva. This one will tell them to leave you enough for drinks, yes?"

At that, Rhasha walked off, laughing as she swatted at his legs again. As he left, the twins watched on, conspiratorial grins growing upon their faces as their elder brother approached. Rhasha'Dar had been most joyous to be reunited with the caravan at Nightgate Inn; his siblings had found him immediately, the pair throwing themselves weeping, on their brother whom they had feared had perished to the Kamal. It had been an emotional time, but after a few nights of catching up with one another, Ma'Zardi and Ma'Zargo were back to peddling to customers and pestering Sylva. As it turned out, she would be journeying on with the caravan until they hit one of the Orcish strongholds to the west. Rhasha thought this would be best, as she would find some aid in the large group. He hated to think of her journeying alone, with no useful weapons and only one functioning hand, the other a not-fully healed stump.

As for Rhasha, he himself would be remaining with the group. They had much left to do, after the Kamal attack. He also would not be able to bring himself to leave his new friends... especially to deprive Sevine of her love in fur.

Lighting his pipe and chewing on the end out of habit as he puffed, Rhasha'Dar walked towards the small town of Dawnstar, and the Inn that lay quite compellingly ahead. Feeling freer than he had for days, Rhasha decided it was high time to rejoin with his companions, and perhaps share a drink with them.