[center][h3]Birds of a Feather[/h3]

[i]by Greenie and Dervs[/i][/center]

Nimriell found that the salted fish she had been snacking on earlier during the day hadn’t quite filled up the hole in her stomach, merely consoling it a little while she was distracted by other more interesting things. If truth be told, she was actually quite missing the food she would cook for herself, or more so, the food her mother would cook, or the other Baandari. Perhaps she was a Bosmer, but her palate was certainly not. Her first taste of rotmeth had not ended well, and it would take a lot of convincing for her to ever taste it again. She was a curious sort and liked trying new things, yes, but she wasn’t [i]stupid[/i] and was certainly not going to try anything that involved fermented meat in it.

Rubbing the back of her neck, she let out an almost inaudible sigh before heading out for the makeshift market. Gold was never a problem for her- she didn’t normally spend too much, and having lived with a merchant family, she knew how to save and find good deals. What she wanted right now was something more to eat and perhaps some water, but it was hard not to get distracted with all the different stalls and see what people of different cultures had for sale. From weapons to adornments, from little animals to stones that were most probably fakes that were not imbued with ayleid magic as was claimed by their seller- it was all rather fascinating. The little Bosmer may have had a calm and placid smile on her face, but her eyes were shining with excitement.

A passing wagon suddenly crashed hard to a corner, the wheel coming off on the rough cobblestone wheel. The guar pulling it roared frightfully and tried to run with the dead load behind it, a pitiful sound that caused quite a commotion as wood dragged on stone. The rider was bucked from the wagon, landing roughly on the stone.

Raznog headed the guar off, sprinting from his tent to the scene, throwing his arms around the guar, “Woah, woah! Easy… easy!” he called out to the guar, pressing his boots into the ground against it trying to push and grabbing hold of its reins. It bellowed again, now seemingly more perplexed by the stranger that was holding his own against the beast’s strength than bothered by the wagon. Raznog, sensing the shift in the creature’s disposition, chuckled warmly and stroked the creature’s neck.”That’s a good girl. Don’t like loud noises, do you?” he asked the bipedial reptile, which snorted contentedly to the pats. Raznog took the reins of the guar and quickly tied the lead to a tree before hurrying over to the rider to see if they were okay.

“Fine, I’m fine! I think I’m more startled than bruised…” the young Imperial woman laughed, wiping her brow of sweat. “Bella’s been acting strangely the past day or so, like she’s wound up and ready to run. She’s always been sensitive.” she explained, smiling up at the Orsimer, he returned the smile. “Thank you, sir. It could have been so much worse without your quick reaction!”

“Think nothing of it! A person in need is just a friend you haven’t met yet, my father always told me.” offering a hand, he helped the woman to her feet. “Let me help you get your wagon wheel back on, yeah?”

He looked around for it, finding the wheel nearby a curiously garbed Bosmer woman. “Pardon me, miss! Mind bringing that over?”

"Not at all!" Nimriell had quickly gotten out of the out of control wagon's way as any normal person would, not wishing to get hurt or possibly run over. She wasn't too  unfamiliar with rogue vehicles herself, but it was never so common an incident that she would have expected it. Quickly picking up the wheel and standing it on the path, Nimriell then easily rolled it over to the odd looking orc who had helped the lady with her guar. 

"Here you go, five-claw," she said, pushing the wheel at the orc, though keeping a grip on it until he took it from her. Her eyes quickly wandered over his appearance. This person was like no other Orsimer she had seen before. The relatively clean and taken care of appearance, the spectacles, the clothes- it was a far cry from what she was used to. Then again, she supposed she too looked a little odd in her mixture of Khajiit and Bosmer attire.

"This one has to admit that was quick thinking on your part," she added, eyeing the guar and its owner before looking back up at the orc. "The rest of us scattered like wasps from a disturbed hive."

“Five-claw?” Raznog repeated with a grin. “You sound like my partner over there. And think nothing of it, miss; big strong guys like me have a responsibility to step in when the situation calls for it. You grow up on a ship yard, you get used to putting yourself in the way of heavy, out of control objects and hoping for the best.” he replied with a hearty laugh.

Picking up the corner of the wagon, he instructed Nimriell, “Alright, if you’re able, just slip the wheel over the peg there. This nice lady and her guar have already drawn enough attention; I’m sure they’d like to carry on their day.”

Nodding, Nimriell carefully lifted the wheel and carefully slipped it over the peg until it was sitting as it should. "There, that should be good," she commented. giving it a pat before straightening up to look at the Orsimer. "Feel free to let it go, it should be fine now, this one believes!"

She was rather curious about his comment on his partner; truth be told she hadn't even realized what she had said until he mentioned it, it was so habitual. But she kept her curiosity in check for the time being. There was still the matter of the wagon being ready to roll.

Raznog set the wagon down gently and slotted in a new pin that the Imperial brought over. After a quick thank you and farewell, Bella the guar and her master carried on down the road. The Orsimer stretched, satisfied at a good deed done. He regarded the Bosmer with polite curiosity, adjusting his spectacles. “Five-claw, this one… are you an Ohmes, by chance? Pardon my ignorance, I’ve tried to learn from my partner about all the different kinds of Khajiit that roam Tamriel, but stories don’t always match up to life experiences, or the lack thereof.” he shook his head, smiling. “But where are my manners; Raznog gro-Malak, at your service. Thank you for your assistance, miss…?”

"Nimriell Briarwood," the Bosmer replied, giving Raznog a friendly smile, "though this one is also known as Green, a childhood nickname that has stuck throughout the years, perhaps due to the green clothes she chooses to wear." She then shook her head, a small chuckle escaping her lips. "There's no ignorance on your part, Nimriell can full well understand your confusion. This one's actually a Bosmer, but since she has grown up with a khajiit family almost since birth, there is not much Bosmer left in her save looks " She pointed to the antlers protruding from her forehead before  tapping at the markings adorning her face. "It's true that this one could pass as an Ohmes, but it's more habit now than anything else."

"And yourself? There's much this one hasn't seen or heard of, but perhaps this is the first time Nimriell's met an Orsimer with a Khajiit partner."

“Lots of strange and wonderful things happen when you travel around, miss Nimriell. Pretty name, by the way!” Raznog said warmly. “My partner and I happened to be in different caravans when we chanced by each other and decided to travel together, fresh start and perspectives for both of us. It’s been good so far.”

He looked back at the tent where Shazali had already lost interest in the wagon commotion and was setting up her enchanting supplies for the custom order that had come through. “So what brings you to the festival? Anything in particular you might be after?” the Orsimer asked.

Nimriell had followed Raznog's line of sight but then looked away, not wishing to be impolite. Smiling at his question, she shook her head no. "This one wouldn't say anything in particular," she replied, lightly rubbing her chin in thought. "Coming here was more for seeking knowledge perhaps? This one may look like a Bosmer but has no real idea as to the customs of the wood elves." She paused a moment, eyes lingering over the market stalls. "This one was adopted by a Baandari family, and so she knows to travel with a purpose. Now her brother is far off in Anequina, and her parents, the Sands behind the Stars. So now Nimriell is simply a vagabond, hoping to learn more about the ways of others."

Raznog nodded somberly. “I’m sorry about your loss, lass, but I’d like to think your folks are looking after you even from the Sands Behind the Stars. Shazali’s told me a lot about it, so I’d like to think I know a thing or two.” he said warmly. “Whatever it is you find on your travels, I hope it brings you the answers you need. What have you learned so far?”

She shook her head at his condolences. “Thank you, this one appreciates your sentiments, though her parents lived quite a good life; this one thinks they are living a well deserved rest now. As for what this one has learned…” Nimriell smirked before letting out a small chuckle. “Rotmeth is probably not a drink this one’ll ever learn to love after a life of khajiiti food. But in all seriousness, this one’s been enjoying spending time away from arid lands and amongst the trees, and it’s quite interesting to learn about the different ways people view things. In her recent travels, Nimriell met someone who followed the Green Pact… this one doesn’t think she could even follow those kinds of staunch rules.

“What about yourself?” she continued after a moment’s pause, stepping a little back so that she could see the orc properly. “There has to be much you learned even before you met your partner if it was in a caravan.” She looked around a moment before settling down on a rather large root of an even larger tree. “This one’s originally from Reaper’s March, but lived mostly in Malabal Tor. What about you?”

“A good story always takes time to unravel, I always found. Maybe yours is just starting to get interesting?” Raznog chuckled heartedly. “And don’t feel too bad; I always enjoyed munching on a carrot from time to time, myself. I’d be a terrible wood elf.” he said, leaning up against the tree himself to continue the conversation.

“I hail from Jehanna, grew up working at a shipyard, so I learned from a young age how to work with wood and ropes and all that other nautical goodness on one hand and how to sell those services with the other. Part of why I always favoured a hammer; when you’re dealing with something that’s meant to support the weight of several dozen steers or enough supplies to keep a town happy for a month, it requires a little bit of extra persuasion to make sure things fit nice and snug from time to time. 

“My mother is a Breton, she married into the family after I was born, so I suppose that’s where I got my open-mind about people and a sense for dressing presentably. In that way, I suppose we have something in common.” the Orsimer smiled, adjusting his spectacles as he regarded Nimriell warmly. “You meet all sorts of interesting folks from all over when you grow up in a port city, so I guess it never occurred to me that meeting Shazali and agreeing to be her companion was all that strange of a proposition. The world’s a nicer place when we all look after each other, yeah?”

"This one completely agrees with that sentiment," Nimriell replied with a little grin, thinking of her mother and father. "She for one wouldn't even be here if her khajiiti parents didn't pick her up and bring her home with them. We too met quite a few people throughout our journeys- one of the best things about being a family of Baandari merchants. But this one has to agree that living by a port city would have opened your eyes even more to the world than most. Nimriell and her family travelled for the most part through Valenwood and Elsweyr and seldom headed north. She has heard of other khajiit heading to colder places, even Skyrim! Even the thought makes her one shiver."

She feigned herself shivering, wrapping her arms around herself before letting them fall loosely to her side, chuckling as she stood up. "It would be a shame if Nimriell didn't ask about you and your partner's wares, friend." The Bosmer gave the tall man a friendly wink. "This one knows all about people who come to stalls and walk away without even inquiring about an item or two."
“Ah!” Raznog clasped his hands together, pleased with the sudden shift in topic. “Why don’t you come and take a look yourself? Crafts and enchantments of all kinds! Pretty sure I still have tea in the kettle, and if not, I can brew some more. I’m sure something a Khajiit-at-heart Bosmer lass like yourself will find something to your liking; our enchanter is an Alfiq, after all!”

"Tea sounds like a lovely idea," Nimriell admitted. She was feeling a little parched, and being able to chat some more over tea and wares seemed like a fun idea. "This one's parents would sell spices and clothes, that sort of thing. There was no one quite with magicka in our family- this one is quite certain if she tried to spell something, it would go very awry." She shook her head, hair swaying to and fro as she started towards the tent. "Nimriell would help with setting things up and bringing over potential buyers, though later on she learned to use the bow and hunt, as well as a little alchemy." Raising her hand, she waved it. "Nothing too powerful though- this one has a long way to go for that."

“You and me both!” Raznog explained with a grin. “Just because mother was a Breton doesn’t mean I share her genes; she could do some dazzling things with her talents. Me? I just stubbornly make tangible things take the form I want. Kind of more fun for an Orc like me, you know?” he said, escorting Nimriell to his tent. “Hunting is an important skill, especially for traveling caravans! I’m sure your folks were very proud of you.” Raznog said warmly.

They reached the tent, where Shazali was waving off another pair of customers who were making off with the guar nightlight. Her amber eye locked on the pair with a curious tilt of the head. “It turns out your heroics helped drive a sale; that customer felt inspired by the brave little guar and her eyes turned to our wares. So considerate.” she chuckled, taking notice of the Bosmer accompanying Raznog. 

“And this one must commend you stepping in to help, even in such a capacity. Thank you for looking out for others; you probably helped salvage that poor girl’s experience in Woodhearth, yes?” Shazali said to Nimriell. 

"Oh," Nimriell replied, waving her hand and shaking her head, "it was nothing much, this one did very little compared to friend Raznog over here, she simply helped set the wheel in place." She smiled at the alfiq khajiit, not at all surprised to see a khajiit who may have simply been thought a normal house cat by unaware and ignorant people. While her immediate adoptive family had no alfiq (and quite the opposite with her senche-raht brother), she had known a few family friends who were talented with magic as this khajiit seemed to be.

"This one was hoping to look through your wares and perhaps enjoy a chat or two," the bosmer added after a moment. "Nimriell is this one's name- you must the be one named Shazali? It's a pleasure to meet you."

Shazali bowed her head slightly. “Raznog talks this one up, but that’s because the novelty of a talking cat has yet to wear off.” she replied, gesturing towards the displays. “Everything here is enchanted by me, and if it is made of wood, carved by Raznog. If there is anything you might be interested in, Shazali will help you find it, five-claw.”

She regarded the Bosmer for a moment. “You speak not unlike this one, a slightly different dialect, Shazali thinks. Are you from the Redfur Trading Post to the Northeast?” the Alfiq asked.

"This one's been to the Redfur Trading Post before many times, but she is from further north, Malabal Tor," Nimriell replied with a small grin. "The Baandari Trading Post is where this one grew up and spent most of her time when not travelling. Nimriell’s family was originally from Reaper's March but moved west very early on in her life." She raised an eyebrow, curiosity apparent in her expression. "Are you from Valenwood as well? Or perhaps from Elsweyr? This one’s brother lives there now." 

“Shazali hails from Dune, the Western, arid part of Elsweyr. Where this one is from, there is not so many trees… or bugs that are the size of Shazali.” the Alfiq sighed, shaking her head. “But when one is Baandari, you get used to the road and seeing the good to go with the bad. This one hasn’t really missed it yet; there were reasons for me to leave, and not enough to return. Shazali has never been one to settle for long.” she said warmly. “What has prompted your travels?”

"This one's family was also Baandari," Nimriell replied, enthusiasm in her voice clear even though she had attempted to veil it so as not to look [i]too[/i] exuberant. "It's why she is so used to travelling as it seems you are as well. Nimriell did stop for a while when her parents became too old, but resumed once more after they took their journey to the Sands behind the stars." She smiled and feigned a laugh; she didn't wish to make the conversation heavy and morose. "This one's quite sure they're enjoying a nap right now in moonsugar!"

Shazali bowed her head slightly. “This one is sorry for your loss, she did not wish to bring up hard memories, but Shazali is certain you’re right; they’re enjoying paradise right now and keeping an eye out for you.” the Alfiq said kindly. “But since you’re here and experiencing new things, what has caught your eye?” she asked, gesturing towards the displays. 

"Hmmm..." Nimriell did want to buy something, especially when she had spent so much time chatting with the two and stealing time that could have been used to call people over. Her eyes looked over the various items displayed before stopping upon one- a beautifully carved wooden box. A soft smile on her lips, she couldn't help but remember the music box that would always accompany her father during their travels; he had always been the merrier of her two parents.

"This one would quite like to take a look at that," she said, nodding towards the box that had caught her eye.

“Here, let me help you with that.” Raznog said, approaching with surprising grace and soft-steps for an Orc of his size. He lifted the lid of the box, snowflakes falling from the lid and with ginger fingers, he turned the handle on the side quietly in a few rotations. A quiet chiming song began to play, two lovers entwined dancing atop of the mechanism. Raznog set it down in front of Nimriell for her to witness it.

Nimriell's eyes widened, following the dancers as they moved to the song. It was hard not to feel a sting or held back tears, thought her smile was wide, beaming one could say. "Jone and Jode, this is more beautiful than Nimriell imagined! So beautiful, magical!" She stared avidly for a good moment before straightening. After a quick sniffle and wipe of her eyes with the back of her hand, she looked at both Raznog and Shazali. 

"This one would like to purchase this, it has stirred quite a few fond memories of her father."

Raznog smiled warmly. “I think sometimes fate has a funny way of bringing you the things you need when you least expect it. I can tell this box has a lot of personal warmth for you, and you should have it.” he glanced over to Shazali, who simply nodded in turn. 

“Tell you what, Nimriell; just pay what you think is fair, and in exchange, you join us at the fire tonight. What do you say?”

"But that..." She looked at the two and could see the sincerity of their offer. Rather touched by the friendly, thoughtful pair, the Baandari Bosmer put a hand to her heart and bowed her head. "Deal. This one will keep her side of the bargain." Standing up straight once more, she fiddled in her satchel for a moment before pulling out the right amount of septims, placing them in Raznog's hands.

"This one will be happy to join fellow Baandari by the fire tonight."

Raznog pocketed the coin and wrapped an arm around Nimriell’s shoulders with a broad grin. “And we’ll be damned happy to have you! We’re all a long way from home, but there’s no reason any of us should spend the time alone.”

Shazali spoke up, “And you do not need to be on your own, Walker; from one Khajiit to another, we need to stick together, yes?”

Nimriell nodded in agreement, a grin playing on her lips as she looked at Shazali, appreciating the inclusion in not just companionship, but as a Khajiit. "Indeed, this one wholeheartedly agrees with that. The benefit of travelling, yes? A few steps this way or a few steps that. and a new friend to be found, stories to tell and jokes to laugh at!" She sighed, a breath of happiness.