[center][h3]The Circle[/h3][/center] Ashav rubbed at his eyes, taking a break from ceaselessly running today's events through his mind. It was only morning and he already had so much to do. Dough-Boy brought back many letters of correspondence with Mehm that Farid had hidden among his letters to his family. He knew Farid had family in Dragonstar, and when the news came to him of the town's fate and in light of just who Orakh was, he couldn't say he blamed the young Redguard for being so outraged as to take the Orc's life. Had he been a younger man, he may have done the same. But a leader must plant his feet and follow through with all his decrees, lest he be pushed aside for another. It was with somewhat of a heavy heart that he'd see Farid go, disgraced and without purpose. Ashav groaned and rose from his chair. Brooding about this was helping the situation as much as ignoring it would. He pushed his tent's flaps open and was immediately greeted by Gustav's face. “Good morning!” The lively Nord beamed. Ashav's face remained a blank wall. “It's [i]a morning[/i]. Wouldn't quite call it 'good.'” “Troubles?” Gustav asked, his face growing just a tad serious, “Because, well, I have more to heap on you, friend.” Ashav struggled not to roll his eyes, turn around and crawl back into his bedroll. “What is it?” “It's best we talk inside the tent, Ashav.” All sense of merriment had evaporated into thin air from Gustav by his last word. Ashav could tell already this would not be a good day. Ashav stepped aside, holding a flap of tent open for Gustav, who nodded and ducked into the tent. Ashav followed and the two sat at his table. Before Ashav could even sit all the way down, Gustav started spewing, “I'm afraid there are complications with my benefactor.” “You seem to have a lot of those. I've spent five days here waiting for you to get back to me from Solitude and here you are, surprising me.” Gustav smiled coyly, “I don't like surprises.” Gustav smiled sheepishly. “Well, you see, I usually send the letters between myself and any of my associates on my pigeons. For those letters between myself and my benefactor, I send couriers, well equipped for any dangerous situations. Rough men, by all means “ Gustav frowned worriedly and Ashav knew where this was going, “They may be compromised.” Ashav wasn't wrong about the destination. “What do you want me to do about it?” Ashav asked. He wasn't expecting there to be anything he really could do, but it was a courtesy to ask, wasn't it? “Nothing. I mulled it over and decided it was important for you to be in the circle of people who knew. It would be unbecoming of my benefactor's military arm to be sadly left out of important news.” Gustav said, drumming his fingers on the table. “Mm. Well, thank you for telling me that everything is going to shit.” Ashav sighed. “Interesting morning, you said?” Gustav cocked an eyebrow. Surely he could sense the tension in the camp, hear the whispers among the company. “First Jorwen disobeys me, rumors of one member possibly challenging another to a duel sometime over who gets free reign over some other member's body... Orakh's dead. Farid killed him.” Ashav said. “No.” “Yes.” Ashav's eyes lifted from his fidgeting digits on the table to look Gustav in the eyes with utmost seriousness. “I have to give Farid the terms and hope he agrees to them.” “I see. Well, you certainly have your work cut out for you.” Gustav said, planting his hands on his knees and pushing himself up. “What an astute observation,” Ashav said, venom on his tongue, “Just like all the others, it's true no matter how much you look at it.” “I don't blame you for your vitriolic mood.” Gustav said, making his way to exit the tent. He put his arms out and giggled uncomfortably, “I swear, I never get used to sailing. My land legs are slow to return.” He laughed. “Vitriolic...” Ashav's eyes almost popped out of their sockets with how wide with anger they were until he took a deep breath. Even Dumhuvud didn't like to be around him after he drank. Said he was merry when he was drunk and angry after waking up. “Well, how nice it must be to enjoy some light sailing.” “Oh, I won't be the only one, my friend.” Gustav smiled. “Eh?” “I've an assignment for you. The duration of your contract is yet to run out, so you'll be packing your company onto my ship, [i]Kyne's Tear[/i].” Gustav said, folding his arms. “My Company seems to have bad luck with ships. They tend to sink whenever they get on them. Should ask the last captain what happened when my company graced his deck.” Ashav said, picking at his fingernails with a slight smirk, as if he was talking about his rapscallion children and not one of the most unscrupulous assembly of killers, thieves, thugs, misfits and exiles all looking for steady pay. “Oh, you haven't met this one.” Gustav chuckled. “That's what Leif said about the last one.” Ashav chuckled back. [center]* * *[/center] Farid must have looked a sad sight compared to what he once was. He couldn't muster up the will to kick and spit at the mercenaries that tied his wrists. His head hung low when he was marched through the camp to this fire, secluded from the rest of the company's. A small party of four men were assigned to keep watch on him. As if he would run. What would he run to? His family was gone, the reason he was in this business was gone, dead, burned to ash, buried. He could hear footsteps coming up the game trail they used to get to this pitiful place the set a fire and decided to wait for Ashav to deliver his sentence. Must be time. Was it an execution? Perhaps. “Solveig?” One of the men smiled, “Woman like you shouldn't be out here all alo- oof!” He heard the others laughing and then it was cut short. “Red-Bear. Didn't mean no offense to your daughter.” “Mm.” He grunted. There was a long silence before Solveig spoke up, “Up, we bring Ashav's orders. You're to report to a tribunal with the senior officers to be judged in front of your peers.” “Is it an execution?” Farid looked up, his tired eyes holding no hope, only pleading for an end. “Fuck if I know, Farid, just get up before I have to haul you all the way back to camp.” Solveig growled, her hand curling into a fist so tight her knuckles popped. All this talk of her being like her father and he couldn't see the resemblance between the fiery-tempered bitch and the hulking, calm man behind her. “Jorwen.” Farid nodded. “Farid.” The old man nodded back. “Do you know what the sentence will be?” Jorwen only shook his head, “I only know there's a gathering where he'll let you know himself. Now get up, lad. You're better than this, what happened to the grinning fuck I met back in the Reach.” Farid's head turned back to the ground and he bit his lip, “Dead. With the rest of his kin in Dragon Gate.” He felt Solveig's hands take up fistfuls of his shirt and haul him up with surprising ease. Now that he was on his feet, he guessed he might as well follow the pair back to camp to finally know his fate. It was a wordless affair, all up until he stood before the two tables pushed together to seat the senior officers. Dumhuvud sat grinning with that shitty face of his, the rest were all grim-faced. Ashav sat in the center, “Farid.” “Ashav.” He couldn't meet his eye, though he did his best to at least look like he had some dignity left in him. “We are all gathered here today to hold trial for Farid's murder of Orakh. As any of you know, if you read the contract you signed, or if you can even fucking read at all,” small bits of laughter weaved its way through the crowd but was immediately snuffed out by Dumhuvud's fierce eyes sweeping across the members of the company, “you will know the punishments for stealing from another member of the company, harming another member of the company outside of a sanctioned duel, and killing another member of the company. You are found guilty by multiple witnesses of the killing of Orakh. As per the terms of your contract with this company, you are to pay me blood price for the life taken and upon handing over payment, you are to resign from the company.” “Ashav-” “That is your fate.” Ashav said, his voice raised even louder. “Ashav-” “You are to pay me blood price and are to resign from the Company upon handing it over-” “I can't fucking afford it! I can't!” Farid screamed, almost lunging at the senior officers. Dumhuvud rose with his hand on the head of his axe, while Solveig already had her longseax halfway out of the sheath. “You know this, you blundering fucking fool! If you weren't spending your nights being a half-headed drunk, you'd remember that almost all of my wages go to my family in Dragon Gate!” Farid's shoulders rose and fell with his breathing. The sadness was again replaced by uncontrollable anger and he could feel his fingers twitching for a weapon, “If this was the Vanguard, there'd be no fucking Orcs in this Company! Mehm told me that you're a dumb fucking drunk who knows fuck-all about commanding a Company!” Ashav's face grew dark and his eyes had a fire in them few had seen yet in the Company. Even Dumhuvud shifted uncomfortably, trying to get some space from Ashav. “You stand here accused of murder and incriminate yourself further with an admittance of treason. Two breaches of contract, Farid. I should have your [i]fucking head![/i]” “Then take it, you pompous shadow of a man! I am in contempt of this tribunal, I call for a trial-by-combat and I'll not take no for an answer!” “And so it shall not be my answer. By the sun's peak in the sky, I expect you to be ready. You'll leave this damned Company a defeated child of a man or a corpse. I'll choose my champion, be ready for him.” Murmurs erupted from the crowd as Ashav rose in a huff, walking back to his tent with a quickness. Like that, the trial was over. The senior officers followed Ashav, murmuring among themselves, even. Jorwen cleared his throat, “My friend...” “There's the prick you met in the Reach.” With that, Farid turned his back and stalked off, Solveig in tow with her hand on her seax. [center]* * *[/center] Ashav found himself alone in his tent. Whatever respect for Farid he had had all but evaporated at this point. His hand twitched for something to throw or for a bottle of liquor. He settled for making a fist and squeezing it tighter over and over as he tried to calm himself. But he was angry, and he was angry about that. Angry at being angry. He'd sent Dough-Boy to retrieve Dax, as he was about the only one he could trust with assignments that needed doing. Jorwen was a man who went his own way, Sevine would never stoop to being his errand-girl, and the rest of them were much the same if they weren't more of the rough, violent, but tactless rabble he filled his ranks with.  The Tent flap was opened by a scaled arm, and Dax entered. He was still in his full gear, and tilted his head as he regarded Ashav. "I have been looking for you for some time, Ashav. But as fate would have it, you've summoned me." he said. In truth, the past day Daixanos had been looking for Ashav, and he always just seemed to miss him. He had been looking for a new assignment, for this life if leisure did not suit the Argonian, who was used to living off the land and fighting criminals and fauna for a living. "What would you have me do?" "You attended the trial, yes?" He didn't wait for an answer, it wouldn't do for Dax to say no and if he did, Dax would surely know why he was summoned, "I need a man dead. Crimes against our Company, Dax. Murder and treason. Corresponding with a rival Company. The men and women grow lax, they fight together and that is what I ask them. They can fuck each other, I can not control the innate. But they will not kill each other." Ashav looked into Dax's eyes, "A Company that devolves to that is nothing but a gang of bandits. It is a fine line we tread these days, to be sure, but it is a line. Farid murdered Orakh for a crime the Orc did not commit, and has further incriminated himself by admitting he was talking to another Company's head. He has insulted my honor, the honor of the Company's Captain." He slid forth a coinpurse with a drawstring that looked ready to snap with the weight, "You know what this means, Daixanos. You signed the same contract as Farid, you know the terms within and you know the punishments for each. Carry out these in my name, the Company's name, and see Farid's sentence done."  Daixanos was never one to hold a conversation for long. "It shall be done." he replied. "Though I would ask, what prompted this Farid to kill? I would not think you invite those into your group whom you would no trust." "I wouldn't. Orakh was a trusted member with a sense of loyalty, as was Farid. Dragon Gate was razed to the last of its citizens. Farid's family among them. It is rumored the one to do it was Orakh's once-ward, and seeking the closest thing to take his grief out on like a child, Farid struck Orakh down." Ashav's anger faltered for a moment, "I sympathize with his grief. But I do not and can not condone his actions. As Captain, I must act without faltering." Ashav stood and resumed looking at the board he pinned his maps and letters to, holding his hands behind his back, "When the time comes, so must you. Go. The Circle should be drawn." Daixanos nodded in contemplation, before placing a fist on his chest in acceptance, and walked out of the tent. [center]* * *[/center] Once again, the Company was assembled. The Circle had been cut in the grass and hedged in with stones. Jorwen stood in the center, his cloak billowing in the wind, held closed by a hidden hand. It had been a long, long time since he'd stood in a Circle. He closed his eyes and took in the smell of the fresh cut grass and the sea salt mingled within. He remembered the duel with Aodhan the Ash-Maker, the Stonejaw Clan's champion in the Reach, the duel with Chief Finnen, where he burned his village and put his sword to his people. He opened his eyes in time to see the crowd shuffling apart in silence, where Solveig and another mercenary led Farid to the Circle, his swordbelt draped over one shoulder. With a swift motion, Solveig cut Farid's binds and the young Redguard brought his hands in front of him and rubbed at his wrists before drawing his blades. The two met their gazes and nodded. Jorwen knew that Farid had decided who would be the victor today, it was only a matter of how hard a victory he was willing to make it. “Friend.” Farid said, the word left out on the still air. Jorwen nodded, “My friend.” He looked back at the surrounding crowd and saw them making way for someone, "I guess it's time." Farid only nodded. Jorwen shouted to the crowd, "We're here to witness the duel between Farid and Ashav's champion for his crimes of murder and treason against the Company. Both duelists, step forward and list your pedigree." Like a stalking wolf, Dax approached the circle nearly undetected before he stepped into the center of it. His movements having been smooth and silent, but permeating the practiced ease of a hunter that was evident to those around him. To those who had the observational skills to notice him, would have seen the Argonian's horns and frills above the heads of the crowd wading back and forth, like the ominous fin of a shark approaching its intended prey.  With cable-like muscles that pieced together a lean but solid form, Dax stood vigil at the center of the crowd. For a moment he stood still and silent, before he unstrapped his bow and quiver, tossing them to the side. His piercing eyes fell on Farid, and the Redguard could see his prominent canines as he spoke.  "Know that I bear no ill will toward you, Farid of Hammerfell." Dax declared to him, his Axe still strapped to his back. "I know too well the loyalty one has for one's own kin. It is that I respect this dedication that I volunteered to be your opponent. Though I am not confirming that I sympathize with murder, I can appreciate that with what you deal with. For this, I shall honor your request for personal combat, and will do my utmost to make sure that it is seen...to the end."  Dax gave a curt nod to the Redguard, before reaching his clawed hand into his jerkin to produce his father's necklace. "May the Hist guide me." he whispered, and then turned to face the crowd.  His broad shoulders framing his fearsome visage, Dax spoke aloud and without ceremony. "Before I came to the cold North of the Landstriders, I was a hunter. I killed with bow and arrow...knife and blade. It was not long before my home was attacked, and I used the same tools of my trade to hunt a new quarry. Dunmer slavers. I fought alongside my Hist brothers for three years. I killed and slew all that dared approach my land. I traveled northeast after, hunting both man and beast to make my living...I have been in Skyrim for years now. Some of you may have seen me before, or perhaps heard of me, if you have ever been south of here. Between Markarth and Whiterun, I have carved my legacy as a bounty hunter, and a seller of skins. Sabrecats and Elk have fallen to my axe and arrows, as well as bandits and cutthroats alike. I have aided in the slaying of a Giant. On my journey here, I killed a Troll in single combat. I am Daixanos the Hunter!" he declared. "But while these are my deeds, I take no pride in my actions. For it was the guidance and teachings of the Hist that have guided me. It has been the Hist that has given my people the strength to take back our homeland and our lives for our own. It will be the Hist that guides my blade this day! Let it be known, that the Saxhleel of the Blackmarsh are a force to be reckoned with. That all Saxhleel share the same strength, as those who have pushed back our enemies and invaded Oblivion itself. I will prove today, that our race shall not be looked down upon by those who are ignorant enough to think us weak."  Finally he unsheathed his Axe, hefting it with an experienced grip in his strong hands. "For my people..." Farid listened with a bowed head. He'd be facing a hard man today, but he wasn't in the business of slaughtering lambs. He took a step forward, "I am Farid of Dragon Gate. I came from the sands to work and there is not a man here who does not know my work. Let's get this done." Farid spat to the side and wasted no time for ceremony or handshakes, though he expected none from the scale-back he faced. Using his longer blade to flick a clod of dirt in Dax's face, he charged to his left flank soon after, hoping to negate Dax's range and plunge his dagger in his gut.  It was thanks to his Argonian bone structure that saved him from a quick finish, for the majority of the dirt hit him near perfectly at the center of his snout, his eyes slightly far sideways compared to most humanoids. He let out a hiss, and instead of bringing his Axe blade down (for he had little room), used the haft with both hands to bash aside Farid's lunge, before bringing his head down in hopes of a connecting headbutt.  Farid saw a burst of white light after he saw Dax parry his strike. He hit the ground rolling, springing to a fighting stance. Once again, he came close to get in range with his sword, lunging with it towards Dax's face while his parrying dagger went low in in an effort to stick the Argonian in the groin or thigh. Daixanos ducked low, keeping his skull out of the line of fire and swinging his axe wide simulaneously, knowing Farid would need to retract or score a minor hit in a trade with an axe head to his side.  The sloppy swing of the axe still connected  with Farid's dagger-hand and his fingers felt like jelly when it hit. He yelped and tried his best to hold onto the dagger while slashing for anything to hit, knowing Dax's axe, being a less balanced one than his sword would take a precious moment to recover from a swing like that. He pressed on, hopefully at least keeping his opponent busy. Dax was cut mildly by one of the blades, of which one he was not sure. Small droplets of blood fell upon the ground, but he did not notice other than a quick flash of pain that only served to heighten his senses. He bared his teeth and pressed forward as well, having learned long ago that the haft of his weapon was just as an effective way of wielding his Axe as the blade.  He yanked his weapon back, hoping the blade would cause another cut, but he did not pause to make sure if it had connected. Instead he attempted to strike forward with his haft, parallel to the ground for a quick and solid hit at either to collarbone or forehead.   He felt the jolt of a slash connecting and bared his teeth. Dax was looking to get back on the offensive and reared back with the haft of his axe. He barely avoided the hardwood and ducked under it. He had no time to jump back and he had no mind to take the chance at stabbing with his dagger, so sprang forward, driving his shoulder into Dax's gut and hoping to even the playing field a little with the lizard on his back. Dax was strong, but Farid was no weakling and he had the advantage of gravity when the dust settled. Daixanos did not attempt to wrestle his way out of the predicament. He might have been able to do it, but it would take time. Time for Farid to mount a better strategy to defeat Dax. The Argonian hissed again, and instead jerked to the side a bit and bit into Farid's left arm with his prominent teeth.  Farid squawked and brought the pommel of his sword down in a frenzy. He didn't aim so instead of the skull-cracking beating he planned, it simply skidded down the side of Dax's head, scraping across the betmer's ear hole. Thankfully, that was enough to make the beast let go and he scrambled away from the animal's snapping jaw, readying his sword like a scorpion's tail and driving it downward towards Dax's neck. Daixanos rolled to the side by one circular motion, almost feeling the sensation of the blade driving into the dirt inches from where he was now. He grabbed at his Axe, gripping the haft of the weapon. Instead of getting into a ready stance, he swung his Axe with a clumsy, albeit strong blow at the sword, hoping to knock it out of Farid's grasp. His tail flicked with agitation and anticipation.  The sword instead found dirt and it ripped from his grasp by a vicious swing from Dax's axe. Before the Argonian could recover, Farid charged forth with a roar, taking a fistful of Dax's collar and slicing into Dax's hand for him to let go of his axe. He followed it up with a balled fist to Dax's jaw while he held onto the Argonian's collar. The punch to Dax's snout sent a wave of pain down his face, but the Argonian met the Redguard with open ferocity, sending a vicious punch to Farid's midsection with a quick but powerful motion, and then using his other hand to grab the wrist of the hand holding the dagger. Both of them surged forward in a contest of strength and savagery.  Farid let go a breathless grunt when Dax's strong punch dug into his gut. He heaved in a breath in time for his wrist to be seized and it sent lightning bolts up his arm, forgetting until now that the hand was broken somewhere. He ground his teeth and used the pain to push through, rearing back and driving his forehead into whatever excuse for lips Argonians had, hoping to split one and get the Argonian a little more fuzzy in the head. Dax was quite finished with his face getting hit. He moved his jaw to the side and the fist slid across the scales of his cheek, and with an uncharacteristic roar, used his free hand to strike upwards and grip his neck with a clawed hand. It was no punch, but it was close to a palm strike. Still roaring, he stepped forward and stepped inside Farid's legs, using one leg to slip behind his to have them both fall to ground once again.  Farid landed hard on his broken hand with a muffled whimper. The weight of Dax made it that much harder to slip away and recover, the big Argonian keeping him pinned under him, his dagger only a finger's breadth away from his hand. It may as well have been a mile away, what with all his struggling doing nothing to get him closer. In a last ditch effort, he dug his hand into a clod of dirt and made to smash it in Dax's face. The soft earth hit his face, and Daixanos growled. He had wanted to finish this quickly and dignified, but it seems Farid continually tried to use underhanded tactics. Truthfully, Dax wasn't against such things in the wilds and in the heat of battle, but he had expected an honorable duel here. That expectation had quickly left him, and while he could not dodge the dirt, he had foreseen such a tactic.  Like a coiled serpent that struck, he rolled to the side just as Farid went for his dagger. Daixanos had anticipated the Redguard's grasp of the weapon, and shook his head with one swift jerk to get the dirt off as he spun, Axe leading in a powerful arc, cleaving into the charging Farid's chest.  He couldn't breathe. He tried, but he could not. He felt his knees hit the ground, the wet earth soaking into his trousers but it was odd to him how he lost all feeling by the time he collapsed to the wet earth. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't feel. Everything had led to this. Everything was black. [center]* * *[/center] Jorwen watched Dax rip his axe from Farid's chest. It wasn't the wet smacking of the meat of Farid's chest closing together, the black blood pouring from him, nor was it the odd way his finger still slowly scraped the earth until finally his eyes glossed over. It was the fact he'd seen another man he'd considered somewhat of a friend dead, nothing but meat now, waiting for the worms. "Dax is the victor." He said, his voice flat, and ripping his gaze away from Farid's body. "Give him a good burial." He tossed a coin to Dough-Boy and and the mercenary that entered the circle to carry Farid's corpse away. Jorwen turned to Dax, knowing the man did his job like he said he would. He could not blame him for that. The two shared a long gaze before Jorwen nodded, "Well fought." He turned and joined the masses filtering away from the Circle.