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'You were taken by Dres slavers when you were young?' The Argonian nodded to the question. He sat down at the small table and took a sip from his goblet. 'Did you ever return to your home?'

'Not for a long time,' he replied as he put the goblet back down, 'I got busy, fighting in the arena, making a name for myself as a mercenary, then fighting in a rebellion. Only after Varen was crowned emperor, I found the time to go back.'

'Did you find your family?'

The Argonian paused, almost with hesitation, and then looked back into the burning hearth.

---

Salt was in the cold air. The hatchling could smell it before he opened his eyes. He looked up from where he laid on the floor but could only see a short distance beyond iron bars while the rest was shrouded in fog. What he could see was a boat, but larger and made differently to the fishing canoes he had seen. A slight shift rolled him over and his back hit more bars with a groan.

'Look who's finally awake!'

The hatchling looked around the bars and saw figures wearing bone and draped in black.

'Hopefully, this is a good haul,' one of them spoke. 'Not sure about this one, just look at his bloody face...' A face peeked in through the gridded bars and the hatchling shrunk back into the corner. After a moment, he dared a look back and he recognised the face. It was the last one he saw, the very same. 'What's the matter, never seen a Dunmer before?' The hatchling looked away.

'Hey, you're right. It looks like he's got blood on his face!'

'Do you think anyone will buy something that looks so intimidating?'

'Psh-- 'Intimidating', sure.'

The hatchling huddled up and hugged his legs close to his chest, trying not to cry. There were footsteps leading away from him.

'We should see Leyawiin soon. Call out as soon as you see anything in this fucking fog.'

The hatchling looked to the side and saw another cage with another like him. She looked a little older than him, but she was shivering and huddled up all the same. He looked to his right and saw another cage but recognised the hatchling inside. He was one of the other hatchlings that were at the chukka-sei. He was asleep still, and for a moment the hatchling wished that were him.

'Land ho!' one of the Dunmer called out. The hatchling looked around the bars for somewhere that wasn't made of smooth wood, but only the fog could be seen from his cage. The Dunmer were moved about the boat to positions where they called out to each other to keep the ship moving. The hatchling only wondered how the boat moved if none of them were rowing. He then noticed the shouting had stirred his poor cage-friend beside him, who began to awaken to panic.

He then saw it--coming through the fog in ghostly silhouette was a wall with buildings behind it. The wall was tall and made of stone and the architecture was very foreign; these buildings had imposing height, even with the wall, and were topped with pointed structures. They were as different to the mud huts of home as sky was to earth. As the boat grew near, the walled 'village' seemed to grow even taller than before as it cast a shadow over the hatchling's cage. He shuddered.

The boat moored at a stone-bound dock. The hatchling had never seen so much stone before. The Dunmer then came before the cages with weapons in hand and once they asserted dominance over the caged hatchlings, took them out and manacled their wrists in irons. When it came the hatchling's turn, he shivered as the cold metal touched his scales. The Dunmer then fastened him to the hatchling in front as they had done the others. When they were all connected by chains, they were ushered along.

With their captors leading them along, the group wandered into the walled village. Passing under the shade of a gate, the hatchling looked from side to side as he followed the hatchling in front without choice. More smooth-skinned people, this time with light skin like stripped tree bark. They wore clothes of fine cloth or armour made without bone or reed. They had flat faces like the Dunmer, but less angular and without the pointed ears or red eyes. The hatchling felt like the marsh he called home was an entire world away.

The line stopped and he bumped into the egg-kin in front. He peered around the side of them as he heard one of the hatchlings toward the front was crying; begging the passers-by to help them. One of the Dunmer turned back around.

SMACK.

Every one of the hatchlings winced as the sound echoed through the street. The Dunmer knelt down and had harsh words with the whimpering boy. He suddenly stopped crying. When they started moving again, the hatchling felt sure it was the cage-friend he saw wake up earlier. He felt sorry for him.

A while later they were lined up next to a wall and told to stand still. Then, one by one, they were unattached from the group chain and brought away by the Dunmer-who-smiled. Almost all of the hatchlings watched as the first of them was pushed to a wooden stage nearby. Their spines and finned appendages quivered with fear. They heard shouts come from beyond the stage and the Dunmer-who-smiled shouted back.

Soon after the Dunmer-who-smiled came back alone and did the same thing with the next; the cage-friend who cried. The hatchling watched as the egg-kin shuddered and tears shimmered on his scales. He was taken to the stage like the first and the hatchlings waited. This time the Dunmer-who-smiled was the only one shouting with silence beckoning. He sounded not as happy as before. Immediately he returned, this time with the cage-friend, and he refastened his captive to the chains.

The next two hatchlings were taken up and the Dunmer-who-smiled did not return with them. He was grinning both times he came back-- Until he saw it was 'bloody-face' who was next.

'Let's get this over with then,' he sneered, making the hatchling wince. As soon as he was unfastened from the chain, the Dunmer yanked his manacles along and set him off balance. He half-ran to regain balance and keep up with his captor who strode towards the stage.

Up the steps he went, wrists pulled upward by the unforgiving Dunmer. One foot after the other, the hatchling was led onto the stage and there he stood before a crowd of people. Many of them were flat faced like he saw before, but there were others in the crowd he noticed were different.

'Another of the fine stock we have for you today!' the Dunmer shouted, his voice almost deafening the hatchling. 'Just like the others, the minimum we ask is fifty drakes, do I have a taker?'

Just like with cage-friend, the hatchling took in the silence that replied. Then someone called out.

'What's with his face--is that blood?'

'No, no-- Don't let his 'rich red' face markings deter you from purchasing a valuable servant to polish your pots and sweep your floors,' he shouted in reply. Murmurs and judging whispers moved from mouths to ears in the crowd.

'What's his name?' another person asked.

'Whatever you want to call him for only fifty drakes!' the Dunmer responded.

'You should call him Bloodies-His-Face!' The crowd began to laugh. When it was clear nobody was actually interested in what the Dunmer was proclaiming, he gave up and shepherded the hatchling as gently as he did before.

When he brought him back, the Dunmer fastened the hatchling back to the chain. The Dunmer then knelt down so his red eyes were level and he glared gloweringly. He was scarier when he wasn't the Dunmer-who-smiled.

'That's your name now, Bloodies-His-Face,' he hissed, 'You remember that when they toss you in a pit with the rest of the garbage.' The Dunmer then stood up and spat on the hatchling, before moving onto unfastening the next one behind him.

When he was gone, Bloodies-His-Face started to cry silently.