[I]1st Mid Year, 4E208CE[/I]

The morning came early, and it was a restless sleep for Daro’Vasora. After returning from the raid on the guard headquarters and learning of the abject failures much of the company had been responsible for, she gritted her teeth to the point that anything she tried to chew on to satisfy her oral fixation snapped over the pressure. The news, particularly on how Jaraleet had tortured the Dwemer administrator to the point of death and the complit nature of those who joined in that ordeal, she needed to find answers. She needed to find Latro, who had been a part of it; he’d surely have some insight of how things got so fucked up. 

Deciding that she needed to get out of the room before she snapped at someone, she gathered her things and left the room before the others awoke, heading down the gilded hotel walls towards the male quarters to find Latro, needing to step away for a while. Before long, she found the quarters she knew the Breton bard was assigned to and with an idle thought, managed to pick the lock and slip the door open, silently stepping across the floor until she found the prone sleeping form of Latro. She gently shook his shoulder to rouse him. 

“Up, we need to talk.” she whispered.

Latro jolted awake, snatching Sora’s wrist with a ferocity that surprised even him after he’d had time to realize where he was and who he was with, though the latter did remain a surprise. He gingerly let go of Sora’s wrist, almost guiltily moving away from her and wedging his hands beneath his legs as if he was trapping the heads of serpents. “I’m sorry.” He muttered, “I don’t sleep well.”

He reached over to the nightstand beside his bed and took a gulp of the water there and took a breath. He looked at the closed door, then the window. The silk curtains were fastened shut still, but he remembered just who was in the room with him, “The door was locked.” He muttered, “Why have you come?”


Daro’Vasora only rubbed her wrist where Latro had grabbed her; it was an understandable reaction, waking up anyone after the past month or so suddenly was always going to be a gamble. “Nothing to apologize for. Thanks for not grabbing a dagger first.” She said with a tight smile. “I couldn’t sleep and I needed to talk, care to indulge me?”

“Whatever you’d like.” He smiled sleepily. He lay back against the wall and finally settled with laying his hands on his lap, fingers entwined. “What did you need to talk about?”

“Outside, let’s not wake these guys.” She said, getting up from her crouch and walking through the dark and out of the door. When Latro finally roused, she was leaning against the wall with arms crossed. She began to walk to find a courtyard, or anything, that was private and wouldn’t likely be intruded. She let out a long sigh after a few minutes, staring ahead. “What happened yesterday?” she asked, her tone flat.

 Latro had rejoined her after getting dressed, which for him, was only slipping on a pair of trousers in the Redguard style. He leaned on the wall with Sora, relaxed. When she finally revealed what she needed to talk to him about, he tensed up. It wasn’t that he couldn’t tell her, wasn’t that the Magistrate’s death was weighing heavy on him, no. It was that some part of him felt like he’d betrayed his own convictions in a way. Finally, he sighed, “We killed him.” Latro said. “We killed that Dwemer and I have no idea how we did it. Men don’t die from needles under their nails or being cuffed in the face.”

Her teeth ground again, her arms tight around her chest. “Who did it? The entire point was to bring him back.” She replied tersely, staring ahead. “We were told to do a mission, not torture some asshole because a few of our company are blood thirsty bastards. Did they not stop to think this is how we’re supposed to get support and assistance in our own goals? Why do they think we have a roof over our heads?” she asked him, frustration seeping through her teeth. “I’m trying, Latro. I really am. Rhea kept this gaggle of idiots in line and I thought it was the proper thing to do. I don’t know how to lead people, or motivate them, and for the most part, I’d probably laugh at most of them if they broke their legs. And yet, here I am, over my head, trying to get them to fight some bloody war they may or may not have a stake in.” she sighed, stopping in her tracks. Looking over to Latro, she shook her head, her expression softening. “Look, I know whatever happened wasn’t your fault. I’m just… I don’t know what to do.”

“We were compromised, Sora. The guards were on high alert after the stunt we pulled, do you think it would be easy enough to snag an officer?” He shook his head, “We shook them, got to the safehouse that was described, everything had gone to plan after that and we were going to lay low before bringing him back. They knew where we were, we fought them, but the Magistrate had succumbed to wounds nobody succumbs to.”

He slid down the wall onto his arse, “Poison, maybe. But who?” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed in the frustration of remembering it all, “Why?”

That was an interesting revelation. She blinked slowly, her composure firming again. “If it were poison, it would have been premeditated. They’d have been plotting to murder the Administrator since before setting out, or deciding to deny his safe return if the mission was compromised. Who was in the room with him? Was anyone alone?”

“Jaraleet, Raelynn, and Gregor. No one else.” He sighed and wrung his hands, “I watched it all. If Jaraleet tipped his needles with poison, I never saw it, but poison doesn’t just stick to blades for more than an hour.”

“Nothing is right about this, Sora.” He rubbed his face and looked at his friend, he had so little morale and he didn’t want to waste it playing the past day over and over again, “I’ve never trusted merchants from Hammerfell, this very place sets my skin to crawl. I haven’t been here in a long time.”

“What of you, though?” He asked, eager to change subjects, “Your mission?”

“A mess. I managed to get the guard patrol list, but I got caught and only got out because I fought dirty. Meg let a bunch of prisoners out of their cells as a distraction to buy us an escape, and we didn’t find a prisoner transport list, but we managed to snag a few sets of armour thanks to Anifaire, Alim and Solandil. A few guards were killed, but I don’t think anyone really saw who we were except for the officer who attacked me.”

She concluded with an annoyed grunt. “So, yeah. That’s where I’m at. I’m realizing that avoiding a fight is becoming less of an option, and I really don’t think I’m capable of handling my own. Can you help me learn how to stand my ground when I run into situations like last night… I kind of got my ass kicked.” she said, glancing away, glad for the fact she couldn’t blush. It was embarrassing to admit. 

“I’d say the best defense is fast legs, but since we’re set on fighting wars.” Latro chuckled, “Well, come. Let’s walk, at least warm up our bodies before  we go hurting ourselves further.”

With that, Latro stood, hooking a finger on one of Sora’s own and taking her with him. They tip-toed through the hotel and picked their way into the training room in the basement. Latro felt young again, trying to stay as quiet as he could past the skeleton crew of hotel staff still awake at night. Guests of the Poncy Man or no, Latro had come to enjoy keeping his skills sharp the past few days in Gilane. After raiding the training room they slinked out of the building and onto the streets.

The one thing he did like about Hammerfell was that the early hours were always walking-weather. Not too warm, but a balance that supported his chronic abandonment of as many articles of clothing he could do away with while still being somewhat decent. Tonight was no exception. They walked the streets together, the early morning needing no breezes to make it comfortable. By the time they’d found a spot suitable enough for their liking, they could smell salt on the air and the sound of crashing waves. A lonely hideaway that was surprisingly spacious in an alley that connected two streets. A bench on one end and a zen garden on the other, sand combed into mesmerizing patterns and what looked like a standing stone to Latro in the center. “Well,” Latro said, “As good a place as any?”

“Such a romantic. I wonder what the real estate costs around here?” the Khajiit mused, crouching into a stretch. “You’re already dressed for the occasion.” she noted.

“One never knows when.” Latro smirked. He tossed a wooden training sword Sora’s way, closing his eyes as she caught it and taking a few deep breaths. He could feel his skin begin to tingle intensely and a slight numbness was the familiar feeling of a mage armor spell. “You needn’t worry about my safety.”

“Yeah, but what about mine?” She asked, looking the training storm from hilt to tip, moving it to get a feel for the weight. “This feels so backwards, with a mace all the weight is in the head. I guess pain’s going to be a good teacher, huh?” she asked, working out a kink in her arm. “So, en garde?” she asked with an impish grin.

“Well, they had wooden swords.” Latro shrugged, before adding cheekily, “Wooden maces are just called clubs.”


“I guess Hammerfell doesn’t have an abundance of sticks. Well, I guess it’s probably not a bad thing to go outside my comfort zone.” she replied, moving in for a low level thrust, much like she’d seen fencers do in performances. 

Latro responded with a crisp riposte, stepping to her right from Sora’s thrust and batting the point off course. He quickly stepped back forward in a lunge, point aimed towards her chest. 

Her balance was off, and the Khajiit tried to slow her momentum to avoid skewering herself on the wooden point, and ultimately she stumbled onto her hands and knees, scrambling back up to her feet with her sword pointed defiantly at Latro, circling him. “Well, that was rude.” She retorted, moving in with a few probing thrusts to test his defences. After being parried, Daro’Vasora made a wide underhand swung from the lower right, under his arms and towards the abdomen.

Latro was somewhat surprised to have stumbled Sora and she managed to gain a measure of respect back by immediately putting him on the defensive. Her footwork left something to be desired, but that would come in time. He parried, stepping in at the same time she made her swing. Almost caught off guard, his mind caught up quickly and he immediately transitioned into half-sword. Grabbing his blade, he hooked Sora’s sword with his crossguard, pulling it down before he followed up with a jab to the face with his pommel. He stopped just short, playfully butting his shoulder into Sora’s, “The blade isn’t the only part of the sword.” He grinned cheekily, “You swing it like a mace because you’re used to maces. It isn’t a mace.”

He stepped back from Sora, “The arming sword was the first of the weapons Francis taught me. He made a fool of me for three months every time we practiced.” He settled into Fool’s Gate stance, tip towards the ground in front of him, “In four months I was able to parry him and keep balance. In six months, I broke one of his ribs with a training blade.”

“En Garde.” He motioned for Sora to come at him.

“Can we reduce the making a fool out of me portion of the training down to a week? I’m in a bit of a hurry.” She said, not rushing into the invitation, studying him. How would she normally work on engagement with a foe, she wondered. Normally she used the environment to her advantage and her natural agility to take advantage of elevation and ambushes, and landing a single good hit was often enough to slow down her foes without them being able to give chase. Since that wasn’t an option here, she knew she had to improvise. 
Latro would expect her to be entirely reliant on her weapon, but perhaps…

She charged at him, her blade held behind her, like she would the mace, like she was going to try another wild swing again, but instead, she pivoted last second into a slide across her knees, bringing her weapon up into a swing to catch Latro’s counter against an easy opponent, and she kicked back off the sand towards him, driving her shoulder into his exposed arm and dropping her own weapon to free her hand to grab Latro’s wrist as her momentum carried her back and down in front of him,  pulling him off balance and into the dirt while her weight stayed on his arm. With claws out, she slashed, shallowly across his neck, knowing his spell would prevent any mark from showing. It was a desperate gamble that left her on her knees and giggling like a girl, but it was certainly unorthodox. “Sorry about the arm.” she said, slumping down to her back in the sand with a foolish grin across her countenance. 

Latro was so surprised by the throw he let out a high squeal that quickly became a full-chested laugh. His sword had slipped from his grasp in the excitement and he lay on the ground, panting with laughter. He covered his mouth until his laughs had subsided, turning to Sora laying next to him, “I like it. Your swordplay almost made me forget who you were. I’m glad you reminded me. I like that ferocity.”

Latro rolled into a sitting position. He looked about the hideaway they were in and put his hands on his hips. “Another round? Or something else?”

“Oh hush, I can’t be perfect at everything.” She replied, tossing a handful of sand at him as she sat up and crawled over. “I could go another round or two, but I think I have an idea of a tie breaker.” she purred seductively in his ear before suddenly spryly leaping to her feet and scooping up her training sword with her foot, catching it by the grip like she’d practiced that particular trick a lot.

[I]Oh, thank Baan Dar I didn’t muck that up.[/I] she thought triumphantly. 

“Come on, Latro; going to let a small and helpless lady like me leave you in the dirt, or you going to show me how you really fight?” she taunted, performing a small flourish and standing in a defensive posture, blade at the ready. “Come and get me.”

He brushed off the sand from his chest with a chuckle as Sora crawled over and his breath caught in his throat when Sora’s lips brushed his earlobe and implied exactly what he thought she’d implied. He swallowed, regaining his composure. Although his heart beat far faster than it did up against death, he was still a bard. “That flourish almost tricked me into thinking you’d gotten better.” He said, sticking his tongue out cheekily as he got to his feet. “How I really fight?”

He rolled his shoulders and flexed his fists with his easy smile perched where it always was, “En Garde.”

Lightning quick, he put all the power in his right leg into launching himself towards Sora. She responded with a quick jab he caught under his arm, wrapping the corded muscle extremity around the blade and bracing it by wrapping his hand around Sora’s own on the hilt. With one quick twist of his core and upper body, he splintered the piece of wood all bent. The suddenness of it sent the two of them stumbling against a wall when Sora flinched back and his own balance failed him. Soon enough, they were pressed against the wall. “What a morning, eh?” He said.

She pressed her back against the wall, breathing heavily, holding the broken training sword in front of her with a surprised bark of laughter. “I guess this means we move on to the tie breaker. You broke my wood.” she teased, casually discarding it off to the side into the sand. She slid across the wall closer to Latro, running her fingers up his bare abdomen. “How about we break a wooden bed frame in and not get out until noon?”

“I’d say we’ve earned it with all this Dwemer shite.” He smiled, acting tenfold more level-headed than he felt and even surprising himself. What a morning. “Can’t have Gregor and Raelynn be the only ones having fun around here, can we?”

“Would you believe me if hearing them go at it’s haunted my dreams more than the Falmer infested caverns?”

Latro laughed, “I thought it was bears until now.”

“I can try sabercat, high end bargain there.” She offered helpfully.

“We’ll need to outdo them, we can try banshees and go from there.” He chuckled, “we should get back soon before we have less than 8 hours before noon.”

“8 hours? I’ll hold you to that.” Daro’Vasora smirked, pinning Latro to the wall and gently, yet seductively, kissing him on the lips. “So, you going to whisk me off my feet or what?”

“Mother Mara, where are my manners?” He smiled, swooping up Sora easily and carrying her off towards the hotel, “Do you think they’ll start to talk when they see us coming back like this or when they wake up from dreaming about Dibellan churches in High Rock?”

With an arm wrapped across the nape of Latro’s neck and a hand upon his chest, Daro’Vasora let out a rueful laugh. “Well, I suppose we better make it a story worth telling. Reminds me, you still owe me a song.”

Latro had that easy smile on him again, glad that it had found its way back to him after yesterday. Glad that he and Sora had found their ways back to each other, most of all. He looked at her with kind eyes and a sweet smile, “I do, don’t I?” He squeezed the back of her upper thigh where his hand supported her and made her jolt and giggle, “I know what a few lines will be about.”

“I suppose we will have to rehearse the source material until we get it right.” she purred.