30th Day of Last Seed, Turdas, 4E 201 (Weeks earlier)

Briefly Dax questioned yet again if this was worth it. Even with the element of surprise and distance between them, three against one was a risky proposition. However, the Argonian hunter had not gotten so far from home and survived this long by backing down from challenges or difficulties. He slowly reached down and touched the Amethyst pendant given to him by his father. "The Hisssst guide me." he muttered softly, and drew out his fine hunting bow.

Daixanos crouched within a copse of bushes to the south of the bandit camp, having the advantage of a higher elevation at the side of a small mountain rise. From the small amount of information the bounty script had given Dax, he knew there should be three of them around the northern edge of the pale, near the coast. The latter information had been correct so far, but he couldn't see all of the bandits from this vantage point. In fact he only saw one atop a rocky rise. An archer that had the misfortune of looking directly into the sun if he were to look Dax's way. If he had to guess, the other two were below him within a cave beside the frigid waters.

With a smooth and trained motion, Dax drew back the string of his bow, aimed, and let loose an iron arrow. The Hist had blessed him it seemed. The arrow had struck the man just below the neck, through the collar bone. He fell, hopefully without a sound. Quick reptilian feet had Dax hurrying to the left, his snake like tail leaving small 'S' shaped grooves in the dirt. After 30 feet, he halted behind a small tree, and waited. A minute passed, and peeking out he saw no commotion. He waited another minute just to be safe, before he began moving northwest as slow and cautiously as he could to get a vantage point to see the inner bandit camp.

He made it to the bottom of the slope behind a jutted rock, parallel to the water with the small camp. Two men spoke amiably, one moving about to toss some more wood into a fire that was slowly dying. It looked like the one handling the fire was a Mer, perhaps. It didn't matter, and he was thinking too much on this. He grasped one his vials, and placed the poison on the ground. He dipped his arrow head within it, making sure to coat it thickly. Dax nocked the Iron arrow and drew back his bow. Two against one weren't favorable odds, and he needed this element of surprise. The Argonian was just about to loose when the Mer handing the fire began to glow, and the fire suddenly flared brighter. Dax grunted as if struck, and didn't have the frame of mind to keep the string pulled back.

His prematurely fired arrow flung end over end into the camp, striking the rocky rise between them that the archer he had dispatched earlier used as a vantage point. He ducked behind the rock again, hearing raised voices and strange sounds he could only deduce were magic being casted. [i]Why do they have to have a spellcaster, Hist curse them[/i]. He knew they would be upon him in no time, but thankfully they still did not know his exact location. He quickly dipped his next arrowhead into the poison, drew back his bow string, and stood tall out of his rocky hiding place. The Nord that had been sitting roared and charged when he spotted Dax, hefting a greatsword. The Mer behind him was glowing no longer, but seemed to be moving his hands intricately. [i]Not having anymore of that filth[/i], Dax thought to himself. The Nord might be the more immediate threat, but he was at least something Dax wasn't uneasy around. He fired a wild shot due to the intensity of the situation, the envenomed arrow hitting the mage in the knee. The Mer cried out in pain and fell.

It was all Dax could do to take out his Battle Axe strapped to his back, whipping it forth to collide with the greatsword in a great shower of sparks. The Nord was stereotypically strong and tall, but Dax was burly for an Argonian, matching his opponent's strength initially. Both weapons flinched, and the two warriors stepped back and gauged their opponent's style, each looking for an opening. Dax gave a hiss as the man growled, the wind whipping past them into the coast of the inner sea. Dax needed to play this defensively, and as the Nord moved, so did he. The Argonian backstepped and slashed at his opponent's exposed midsection. The Nord had been trying for a thrust, but hesitated and backstepped himself. Dax stepped forward and sent his Axe in a devastating downward chop. The Nord sidestepped and the Axe bit into earth, sticking for a moment. Dax's barbarian opponent took this time to swing at the stuck Argonian. Instead of yanking his Axe out in a furious attempt to survive, he ducked behind his Axe's upraised hilt, holding it steady as the greatsword blade collided with it. Dax's tail slipped around as the Argonian spun, whipping the Nord's hip in a stinging strike. The man sliced in a block as a reflex, paingfully cutting off the end of Dax's tail. The Argonian lashed out without thought, his extended claws cutting a small slice across the Nord's throat.

The wound was shallow, but it was still a throat strike. The bandit clutched his throat, dropping his weapon and stumbling back as blood slowly seeped onto his collarbone. Dax took no time in retrieving his Axe, yanking it out of the earth, before beheading his opponent to end both of their miseries. He wasn't going to be barbaric and take back the heads, thinking the hands would suffice. However, one was now severed and he needed some proof that he had done this deed. With a sigh, the hunter knelt down to check his tail. On first glance, he knew it wasn't severed deep, and would grow back. It wasn't anything he'd not dealt with before, and the pain wasn't blinding.

The Hist was smiling on him today, for when he ducked to check his tail, a ball of flame flew straight over the kneeling hunter. He could feel the heat as it passed, and his reptilian head whipped up to see the Mer holding himself up unsteadily beside the rock, breathing heavily. The poison seemed to be in full effect, and he would soon die. It seemed he was determined to take Dax down with him. The very magic he could see being summoned sent a shudder down the Argonian's spine, and he sprang toward the Mer, Axe being hefted as he closed the distance shortly. His blade found the Mer's neck just before the wretched bandit could loose another spell.

Within the hour, he had the heads packed into his skin sack. He needed to carry the sack in his hands, now being too heavy to be strapped to his belt. He checked the chest the bandits had for some gold and loot, before making his way back toward Cheydinhal, and Ashev. He hoped he got back before nightfall. Making a camp out in the cold was never ideal, and with his recent nightmares of Blackmarsh. 

[i]Hours later[/i]. 

The weight of the Gold felt good in his clawed hands. The weight of his duty to his people was a tad less satisfying, though no less important. In fact, much more so in Daixanos' way of thinking. "No, I am not going southwards. I am going to Morrowind." Dax replied to Jod as they walked toward the bar together. "And I do not know why such a journey is perilous, other than the damned Dumner. But I will..." His words were ominous and hinting, and the Argonian gave a nod to Jod as the man spoke. "The steward was so happy with your kills that he gives you a hint. He said these lowlifes have been troubling his hold for weeks, and it was no small task destroying them for one man. You are someone who gets things done. He has procured a manifest of Dunmer comings and goings to and from Blackmarsh. Our spies tells us slavers ships are bound between your home and Morrowind almost daily, and many reach Vvardenfell." 

Dax opened his mouth, unnerving the man with his bestial, blank look as he contemplated the information. "Then that is where I shall go," Dax croaked. 
[hr]

18th Day of Hearthfire, Sundas, 4E 201

Daixanos nearly ran on all fours, his serrated claws on his feet digging into the ground as his hands grasped for any tree or rock that would speed his ascent up the rise. He knew the caravan was close. The Hist had guided him, and he had seen them from afar not four miles ago. With any luck and quick feet, he would find a way to overcome the slavers and free those in captivity. He was confident of his hunting bow, even if he could not make it to melee range just yet. His thoughts, however, clouded in confusion when calls began to rise from somehow up ahead. 

Soon, dreadful magicka erupted, and a tree cracked as if rent asunder by a giant to his right. It was all he could do to roll out of the way before the great oak hit the hillock and began a slow roll down the hill behind the kneeling Argonian. "Cursed sorcery," he breathed, though his determination had not faltered. He would see his fellows freed, mage or not when he reached the top. Only a dozen paces and he would rise and... 

The commotion had stopped. 

After a moment's hesitation, that only spurred him to make it as soon as possible, and once he rose above the crest, he was greeted with a curious sight. A woman on the ground, injured and speaking softly as an Argonian, chained as the rest, reached for a dagger he could not quite reach. "Hist!" he cried, scrambling past gnarled roots and making it to the caravan. The shackled slaves gasped when he appeared, showing some life in them yet. He believed they had likely never thought to see a fellow Argonian armed so far north of Blackmarsh. 

"Fear not, I have come." Dax said, unsheathed his large axe. A khajiit held up his hands in a display, talking in the cat-like double speak. Argonians and Khajiits did not always get along, but they had been enslaved as his people had. "This one has the woman to thank! Help her as you help us, yes yes?" That caused Daixanos to slow to a stop, and he regarded the woman coldly, having believed not moments ago she had been a slaver.

After a moment, he slowly hissed an "I shall"
[@Penny]