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Argonians Revenge Part 4

Unforgiven

This is the last part of the Argonian's revenge series. Due in some part to lack of feedback, but also because I wanted to move his character to my Oblivion Comic. There is no sex in this story, so tough cookies.

"My name is Roka Sunder. My mothers name was Mallie. My fathers name was Oba. They are dead. Malgar and Rishka took them from me, and I let them. They are both dead, but the sins committed are mine, because I allowed them to happen. I deserve what happens to me. I am unforgivable."

He had never spoken the prayer out loud before. He had always spoke it silently, for fear of being heard and branded a traitor. He had repeated it, every day, without fail. To remind himself of a past he could not forget.

The prayer was spoken softly, hoarsely, barely heard even to himself as the Argonian sat on the cold stone floor, his back to the cold wall, his forehead resting on his arms supported over his knees. He had been there through the seasons, experiencing each change in weather through the stoneworks. The cell was surprisingly cold for that time of year.

Year. It had already passed, a single year of almost countless days and hours in which he had grown used to the silent almost tomb-like prison he now called home. A home he knew he would never leave.

His eyes were closed. No point in keeping them open. He already had counted every rock in the cell, on each of the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. He knew how far the sun stretched through the tiny window near the top. He knew when the wind blew enough which gaps he could feel it through the best. And he knew that every meal he had was always the same amount. It never differed.

Breakfast was a pitcher of water, lukewarm most times, with a single plate containing half a loaf of bread, one slice of cheese, and one apple. The water, if he drank sparsely, could sometimes last till lunch. But if it lasted, it wasn't refilled.

Lunch was water, a half loaf of bread, a slice of goat's cheese, and two slices of meat. The meat was usually pork, or chicken. Sometimes ham. Once, it had been venison. Only once though.

If his water was drunk by dinner, it was refilled. Any water he had left by then, was to last till morning. Dinner was again a half loaf of bread, but it came with a bowl, and a piece of fruit. He didn't know what the bowl contained till it was given to him. If it was soup, there was always twenty spoonfulls. No more, no less. If he was lucky enough to have stew, there was always ten to fifteen spoonfulls.

He ate his meals on the single little wooden table, sitting on a rough three legged stool. He had to stand against the wall on the far side every time the guards brought him his meal. They rarely spoke to him when they did. Once, he hadn't moved. They had forced him away and drew their swords for several days everytime they walked in. He didn't make the same mistake again.

A bucket stood in the furthest corner. A large covered wooden bucket for him to do his daily business. It was only emptied once a day. Regardless of how full or empty it was. The straw bed was only changed once a month. At that time, he was given a large bucket of warm soapy water and a change of sack cloth clothing. He had to wash himself while the guards kept eye on him as they changed the straw.

It was perhaps a luxury, to be able to wash himself. If only once a month he could allow himself the warmth of water and clean clothes. He heard many inmates complain about the filth they had to live in, as if they had a say in how they lived. Roka, just washed himself and let it be.

That was his life for the past year. It was all he knew now. His past felt like a bad dream.

Malgar. Rishka. The Scarlet Brigade. His training with the Akivari Katana. His well maintained armour. His life as the orc commander's son. His brief title of captain. Even his parents. He had lived so long in that life, it was hard to imagine now he had actually been a apart of it.

That's what happened, he had figured. You get used to something every day. See it, experience it, talk it, feel it, know it. You go trough every day in that life, but when it changes and you find yourself doing a completely different life, that old life is hard to believe that it existed.

A year ago, he believed he had all the answers, the reasons for what he did or what we wanted to do. He thought he understood the world, understood his place. He believed he had everything figured out.

It turned out he knew next to nothing after all, and the world was nothing he had believed it to be.

He felt his body grow tired again as he slowly moved forward. His body, once so muscular and lean, an image of perfection from his training, was now thinner and weaker. His muscles ached, not from the exhaustion that came from training, but from the limited movement he had.

He shuffled slowly over to the straw bed, the light on the floor from the window indicated it was still early morning. He slowly lowered himself onto the bed and curled his boy up, hugging his arms around his knees. Hours of lying in the same position, day after day, week after week, had been taking their toll on him.

Sleeping during the day didn't help much either. He would wake up with his head pounding and feeling woozy. He would have no energy and he felt sick to his stomach. But being in a cell every single day and never stepping a foot outside, there was little else to do to pass the time.

This must have been how his father had felt, in the end.

"There is a difference between love, and lust."

_ _

Oba pulled slowly away from his son after he spoke, and looked into his sons tear streaked face. The look of confusion on his sons face, made the corners of his cracked mouth want to smile. That single statement showed the older Argonian that his son had no idea what he was talking about.

_ _

"A...a difference...?" Roka croaked as he looked up at his father. He swallowed a lump in his throat once or twice as he tried to understand just what he was talking about. But as he looked at his fathers aged face, he simply couldn't figure it out.

_ _

"You don't understand, do you?" Oba asked as he rubbed one of his remaining fingers over his sons cheek. He hadn't seen his son cry in years. Not since he was a little boy and he had hurt himself with the wood axe. Strange how even now, after all that happened, a few tears made his son look lost and alone.

_ _

"I...I don't" Roka admitted as he let his father touch his face. There was a tenderness there, something he hadn't felt in years. "Why don't I understand?" he asked.

_ _

"Because that is something that Malgar most likely didn't think you would have needed to know" Oba said softly as he drew his ruined fingers over his sons face, gently wiping away the tears until there were none left. He finally allowed himself to smile just a little at his son's confusion.

_ _

"Why didn't...why didn't he want me to know?" Roka asked.

_ _

"Because men like him, they don't understand love" Oba said softly. "They may think they do, and they believe that they do. But they don't. They use 'love' as an ends to their means" he said.

_ _

"I..I still don't understand" Roka said softly as he felt his shoulders sag. He honestly had no idea what his father was trying to tell him.

_ _

"If Malgar were to claim that he loved you, it wouldn't be the real thing" Oba said. "It would be his way of justifying everything he had done to you. The way he tricked you, the way he's taken you. He would claim he did it out of love. But that is a perversion of what it really is" he said to Roka.

_ _

"Many in the world use love as an excuse for the things they do. They kidnap innocents and destroy them, turning them into monsters just like them because they believe doing so will chase away the loneliness they feel at night. But Roka, that is not what love is about. Love, is something else" Oba said as he stopped talking for a moment.

_ _

"But....I...I believe I love him" Roka said softly as he felt his heart shudder at the very idea.

_ _

"Why?" Oba asked him gently as he put a hand on his sons cheek, giving it an affectionate squeeze. "Tell me why" he said softly.

The screech of a key in the door of his cell jarred Roka out of his slumber. Wide eyed for a moment as his heart pumped with the shock of the sudden nose, his aching muscles worked overtime as he scrambled out of his straw bed.

The door to his cell opened and Roka pushed himself back against the wall. He had no idea why they would be entering his cell at this time of the day, for they had never done a thing like this before.

He was sure he wasn't in trouble. He had never fought back against the for anything they had put him through, or tried to make trouble for them on purpose. Why they would enter his cell in the middle of the morning, was beyond him.

But only one guard entered the room, carrying with him a bundle that he sat on the straw bed before he looked up at Roka.

"I see you're doing well Roka" he said with a small smile.

"D...Dretton?" Roka said with a surprise in his hoarse voice. Dretton was one of the guards that Roka had surrendered himself to over a year ago. He and his fellow guard Travish had, somehow, managed to convince the acting captain, Captain Reynault of the Blades, to not let him be killed for his past.

"I still don't get why you didn't let the healer fix your throat when she had the chance too" Dretton said sympathetically. "You sound older then you should be" he admitted.

Roka didn't say anything to that. He knew what he was talking about.

About a week after Roka had been brought in, Dretton had asked one of the priests of the nearby chapel to come and take a look at his wounds. He had stopped bleeding and his cuts were healing but his face was still broken and his headfin wasn't healing at all.

The healer had been a female Argonian, and she had healed him as painlessly as she could. His nose was reset and the many cuts on his body were healed over, and the swelling on his face disappeared completely. Strangely, due to a reason he couldn't figure out, his headfin had brittled up and fallen off. And even stranger, a head full of sharp quills had grown in its place.

Maybe if he had studied Restoration magic a bit more, he would be able to understand what happened. Not that it really bothered him about his looks.

But he stopped her from healing his throat. She warned him that if she didn't, his voice would be hoarse for the rest of his life.

He just declined, telling her it didn't matter.

"Anyway, its Captain Dretton now" he said to him.

"Captain?" Roka asked, again surprised.

'Yes, Captain" Dretton said with a nod as he crossed his arms.

"What happened?" Roka asked as he looked over at the guard.

"The Emperor was killed almost a week ago, by a group of assassins. Some sort of deadric cult, if you believe the rumours" Dretton said.

Roka didn't say anything to that. He had never met the Emperor, or even knew the mans name. So, the news of his death, didn't exactly mean much to him. He felt it should, after the times that Malgar had said they could take on the empire with enough brothers and sisters. It looked like someone had beaten him to it after all.

"Captain Reynault was killed trying to help him escape" Dretton added. "And a lot of other guard captains. The Emperor was staying in the Imperial Prison with his sons, all under the watch of the best guards and captains that they could get their hands on. Including the Chorrol Captain. It took three of those assassins to kill him" he said.

"I...see" Roka said slowly. The news wasn't' really meaning much to him. He had no idea any of this happened, or really why it was concerning him all that much. Prisoners didn't exactly get told a lot of things.

"So I got promoted" Dretton said. "And I made a decision that your to be released today" he said, his arms firmly crossed over his chest.

Roka felt the surprise that time hit him like a slap to the face. He was to be released? Roka had been under the impression for the past year that he wasn't ever getting out. He had made his peace with it long ago, and accepted the direction his life had brought him in.

"You're...you're releasing me?" Roka asked. "But...but why? I'm supposed to be in here for life" he explained.

"Roka, is this not a decision I'm making lightly" Dretton said as he uncrossed his arms and he began to pace along the floor. "I have thought about it, and I made my decision this morning."

"But..I'm not...I'm not supposed to be released" he said.

"Roka, don't think that I've forgotten why you turned yourself in" Dretton said. "I am still very well aware that you not only murdered a member of the blades, an act punishable by death itself, but that you killed many others as well."

"Yes...but.."

"And I haven't forgotten that you helped bring down Warlord Roark's tower, a feat that helped to enslave almost thirty of his surviving guards, who were convinced into injuring and raping their fellows so they could join the Scarlet Brigade that you were a part of."

"But..."

"And I remember that you killed General Malgar, and his Commander in chief Rishka, and that your information on the Brigade led us to not only help the slaves hidden in the catacombs but also to wipe out every last member of that scum pile."

"But...but..."

"And the only one left now, is you" Dretton said as he stopped pacing and looked over at Roka.

Roka stopped as he looked at Dretton. The silence hung in the air for several long seconds. He was suddenly aware that Drettons sword was inches away from his hand, and that he himself had no way of defending against it.

He felt weak in the knees for a moment as he gulped a bit.

"What....do you mean??" Roka asked slowly.

"What I mean is, I'm not forgetting what you've done. Not by a long shot. But I'm not forgetting that, in the year that you have been here, I can count on one hand how many times you've objected to your incarceration, or complained about how we treated you, or even complained about how you don't like the food" Dretton said as he held up a hand.

"And I don't even need four fingers and a thumb to count."

Roka said nothing for a few long moments.

"I belong in here, after everything I've done" he said quietly as he looked to the floor.

Dretton said nothing as he walked up to Roka and put a hand on his shoulder, the younger Argonian looked up at the touch. Dretton looked at his face, so much thinner and older looking then he really was.

"Do you still believe that?" he asked softly. Roka looked at him for a moment before he looked away.

"I can't be forgiven for what I've done. I deserve to be locked up" he said.

"Tell me why I should."

"Tell my why."

_ _

Roka looked up at his fathers old face, his eyes tracing over the cracked and scarred scales, all from the years of abuse he had suffered being a slave to the brigades demands. How was he supposed to tell his father why he loved the orc who helped put him through all this?

_ _

"I..." Roka said, before he felt his shoulders shudder and he began to tremble again. He tried to speak, but he felt the tears run down his face again and he couldn't answer.

_ _

"Roka" Oba said softly as he gently held his sons face in both of his hands and pulled him close, until their foreheads were gently touching. "Roka, tell me. It's important" he said softly.

_ _

Roka sniffed a few times, gulping back his tears as he felt his body calm down. His scarlet armour felt heavier against his naked skin, as if he was suddenly feeling its weight for the first time.

_ _

"He...he makes me ....he makes me feel good" Roka said softly as he felt his fathers cold forehead against his own. "He...I want him dead. I want him dead so badly...for all he's done. But when he takes me...I don't want him to stop' he said as he hung his head in shame.

_ _

"I ...hate him so much...but when...he's inside me... and I can feel him...I just...I just enjoy it too much" he said. "I ...I don't want it to end. It just makes me feel so good on the inside. And then..." he choked a bit, unable to finish that sentence.

_ _

"Roka, please tell me" Oba said softly as he held his sons face against his own.

_ _

"When I know I can kill him...I think about...him not being in my life...and I can't do it. I want him in my life...because he makes me feel so good" he said as he began to cry again. He felt his body shake as he trembled and he tried to keep himself in check. But he knew he was failing.

_ _

"Roka, listen to me" Oba said as he let go of his sons face and pulled him against his withered body in a hug. He held his son in his arms, letting him tremble and shake as he held on. "That is not love. You do not love him" he said.

"Because....after everything I've done, I don't deserve to just walk away" Roka said as he looked away from the floor up to Dretton. "How am I supposed to just walk away from my past, like everything I did didn't matter? People are dead because of me. My hands are stained in their blood. Is this something I'm supposed to just forget about?"

Dretton sighed as he took his hand away from Roka's shoulder. Somehow, he couldn't disagree with him. Roka had done bad things, things that should keep him locked up for life.

But Dretton couldn't shake the doubts he had, the belief that Roka deserved better then this after all he had been through.

"Roka, you've been in here for a year, right?" Dretton asked as he stood back.

"Yes" Roka said as he leant back against the wall slightly, his gaze at the floor.

"So, do you think you've been punished enough, just by being imprisoned?" Dretton asked him.

"I...."Roka was about to agree, but something stopped him. And he wasn't sure what. He stood there with his mouth open slightly, but he couldn't find the words to explain himself.

"So, what exactly do you think you've been punished for?" Dretton asked.

Roka opened his mouth again, but the same thing happened. He just couldn't explain himself about his punishment.

"So, you've been in prison for a year, you've never complained or fought against anything we've done or could have done to you, and you've accepted this imprisonment" he said. "So" he said, as he took a few steps towards Roka. "What exactly has this year absolved from your sins?"

Roka close his mouth slowly as he tried to think. But nothing came to mind. It wasn't that he didn't understand the question. He just had no idea which of his sins, if any, had been forgiven after a year long jail term.

"I...I don't know" he said finally, quietly as he hung his head. He felt the lumps in his throat appear again, and he had the desire to start crying. He felt like he had failed.

"Roka, that is what I'm talking about" Dretton said to him. "You can't just stay in prison like this. It doesn't solve anything, or forgive you for anything. All its doing is just making you waste away slowly."

"But....but releasing me...after what I've done" he said as he felt himself starting to fumble for excuses. "That...that's like saying it didn't happen..."

"Roka, of course it happened" Dretton said to him. "I can't erase what you did. I can forget it happened, yes. But it did happen. I'm not forgetting that."

"Then why release me?" Roka said as he felt tears spring from his eyes as he felt the anger rise in him as well. "You know what I did. I told you everything. I told you every single thing that I did."

"I let them take my parents and do unspeakable things to them. I kept missing every opportunity I had to end it all. I let Rishka murder my mother. I let Malgar break my father and treat him like an animal. I killed people without caring or without mercy. My father died and I could have saved him. I don't deserve freedom or anything like that. I'm a monster, and I'm unforgivable" he found himself shouting.

Dretton said nothing as Roka shouted at him. He didn't budge or flinch as he let Roka shout his frustrations at him. When Roka finished and stood there, trembling from his shoulders and panting a bit hoarsely, did he finally speak.

"Roka, monsters don't feel guilt" he said simply.

Roka blinked in surprise. That single phrase seemed to knock him back and he found himself again lost for words. No-one had ever told him that, and he found it surprising that Dretton would say that to him.

Dretton sighed as he stood back a step.

"Roka, every other prisoner in this jail has done nothing but try and cut a deal. Not because they're guilty on what they've done, but because they're upset they got caught. But you, you want to be punished for what you've done. That makes you different."

"But....I just....I just don't understand...." Roka said as he looked at the ground

.

"I don't understand" Roka said as he felt his father pull him close feeling his fathers embrace as he was held tight.

_ _

"Roka, what you are feeling is lust" Oba said as he brought a hand up and held the back of his sons head gently. "It's not love. But everyone believes it is" he said.

_ _

"Why ...why is it different then love? How come it's not the same thing?" he asked. He was starting to feel foolish. He felt like this was meant to be common knowledge from the way his father was speaking, but he knew nothing about it.

_ _

"Because Lust is something our bodies desire" Oba said softly. "It's what we long for, when our bodies feel something that make it feel good" he said. "It's not the person we long for, but what they can do to us that make us feel good."

_ _

But...."Roka said as he tried to object, but he couldn't. What his father was saying, it was starting to make sense.

_ _

"We confuse it with love, because at the time we believe we can't live without that. But what we don't realize is we just want what they do to us that makes us feel good" Oba said softly.

_ _

Roka opened his mouth to speak, but then Oba started to cough. He held his hand against his mouth as he coughed rather violently. His withered body shook hard as he coughed repeatedly. Roka started to panic as he felt his heart race as he grabbed his fathers shoulders to hold him steady.

_ _

Oba felt dampness on his fingers, something hot that trickled through his fingers. But in the dim light of the tunnels he couldn't tell what it was as he wiped the back of his mouth, panting a bit. His lungs felt hot and ached, and the right side of his head was throbbing hard enough to make him see stars.

_ _

But he felt remarkably calm as he took a few deep breaths to steady himself. He smelt what was on his fingers, but even knowing what it was didn't scare him.

_ _

"I'm fine" he said as he straightened back up.

_ _

"Are...are you sure?" Roka asked, he could not keep the worry out of his voice as he held his fathers shoulders. But his father just smiled at him and nodded as he put his hands on his sons.

_ _

"Roka, all your body is telling you, is that it enjoys what Malgar is doing to it" he said. "It's just so easy to confuse the two, because they feel so similar. But your body enjoys the simulations that Malgar does to you, the sex, so much, that it tells your mind it's in love."

_ _

"So....So I'm not....I'm not in love with him?" Roka asked, his heart starting to slow down as he felt as if the weight of the burden was starting to lighten. Could it possibly be that easy to explain how he felt? Oba smiled to him.

_ _

"No, your not. Its just lust for what he does to you. If someone else did the same thing to you, you'd feel the same way."

_ _

"I would?" he asked.

_ _

"Yes son" Oba said. "Believe me, until you find the one you truly do love, anyone can share their bed with you. Malgar just has not let you had the chance to explore and let you try it. Anyone can make you feel as wonderful as Malgar does. But trust me, that lust...is nothing compared to what real love can give you" he said.

_ _

"But...what's real love? And how do I know if I do love that person?" Roka asked. He was starting to actually feel better, finally finding that he wasn't in love with Malgar after all. It was starting to make sense, as to why Malgar would take him and Roka would enjoy it too much to put a stop to it. Perhaps that was why he could never go through with it. Because he couldn't live without the pleasure that Malgar gave to him.

_ _

But...what if there was a chance...that his father was wrong.

_ _

"That....is a little harder to explain..." Oba said softly.

"It's hard to explain Roka, but I do want you to understand how I see it" Dretton said to him. "Roka, no-one gets forgiven just by staying in prison their whole life" he said. "Prison is a punishment, it's not a forgiveness."

Roka looked up at him for a moment or two.

"Roka, forgiveness doesn't come from a prison sentence, or a punishment" Dretton said. "Forgiveness comes when someone knows the sins you have committed, and they can look past it and not hold it against you any longer."

Roka said nothing as he considered it. He hadn't thought of it like hat before.

"Roka, I could forgive you right now if I wanted. Because I know just how sorry you are. I know it wasn't entirely your fault. But with the guilt you carry, and the burden because of it, I know my forgiveness alone isn't enough to even to shift it" he said.

"Why...would you forgive me?" Roka asked softly. He was surprised someone actually would. He never thought anyone would even want to.

"Because every now and then, there comes a prisoner we just can't help but feel sorry for" Dretton said. "And we take a chance with them, because we believe they're worth saving" he said as he picked up the bundle from the bed he had placed down earlier. "Sometimes, someone is taken and they get turned into the very monster that took them. And there comes a point where we have to simply stop hoping and know that the person they used to be is lost forever. We can no longer feel sorry for that person, and must look at them as they have become" he said as he turned around.

"Roka, you're still someone I have hope for" he admitted.

Roka starred at him in disbelief. For someone to actually believe he was worth saving....

"I want you to go out, and live a better life" Dretton said to him as he put the bundle in Roka's arms. "You're not going to find forgiveness by being locked up like this. You won't be able to forgive yourself if you lie in here wishing the world would just punish you" he said.

Roka looked down at the bundle in his arms. He recognized the clothing. It looked black, and it seemed to shimmer softly in the darkness. It was a rainment, and it wasn't actually black, but the deepest shade of red so dark it looked black. The darkest red made the blood hard to spot on the outfit.

The last person to wear such a thing had been a member of the Dark Brotherhood, an assassin sent to kill Malgar. The man had come close, closer then most had. He had managed to give Malgar a scar along his chest, right above his heart. But never had the chance to deliver a second blow.

He recognized the Akivari Katana as well. It was a little duller and dusty from its year in confinement, but he recognized the blade he had kept by his side for years almost instantly. He had left it behind in Malgars bathroom, where he had drowned the bastard in his own bathwater. Roka had not intended to take the blade with him.

"Where...did you get these" he asked, looking up at Dretton.

"We found the clothing in the chapel the brigade used as a treasury" Dretton said to him as he crossed his arms. "Surprisingly, they had little in the way of actual clothes there. And I doubted you wanted some of the red armour back" he added. "As for the sword, it was found in the bathroom with Malgar's corpse. I had a feeling it was yours" he said.

"But...I don't deserve this blade anymore...'Roka said. A part of him felt glad to see the familiar blade, but the other part of him didn't want it.

"Then take it back to the Blades" Dretton said to him. "I think they would like some closure on the brother that they lost years ago who never returned. If you want to do that, follow the trail south out of Chorrol and head east. You'll find Weynon Priory not far from here. And look for Brother Jauffre. He used to be a member of the blades. He'll help you out" he said.

Roka looked down at the bundle in his arms. Freedom. Such a foreign concept now.

"I...don't know what to say" Roka said as he looked up at Dretton. But the man was already turning around to head to the doorway.

"Roka, I'm going to go wait at the exit of the prison cells" Dretton said to him. "I'm giving you a chance, but I want you to make the choice yourself. If you come out dressed to go, I'm going to let you go. And I do not want to see you back in here again" Dretton said firmly.

"But, if you put the bundle outside the door and close it, the door will lock again. If you do that, I'm not going to try this again. I'll give you your wish and let you stay in here for the rest of your life. It's up to you Roka" he said.

Roka said nothing as Dretton left. He watched the new captain of the guard leave his cell, the door wide open. Freedom was now just a few steps away. But could Roka actually leave?

He could leave. Start a new life. He had no idea how though. Going to find this Jauffre person did seem like a good idea. He could at least get rid of the blade and be done with it. Get rid of the last thing clinging to his past.

But he couldn't escape his past. He couldn't forget it. He couldn't allow himself to forget it. He couldn't change the past, or really put it behind him. He supposed he could run from it, or learn from it. But one way or the other, nothing changed the fact, that it had happened.

"I don't deserve freedom" Roka said softly as he went to carry the bundle to the door. But something slipped from the folds of the raiment and fell to the floor with the tiniest ching on the stonework. Roka stopped and looked down and saw something shining against his foot.

Slowly, he knelt down and picked up the small object in his fingers.

It was a golden ring, adorned with three perfect amethysts. One in the middle on the outside, with a smaller one on each side. An Argonian styled wedding ring. It was the ring that Malgar had stolen from Roka's mother so many years ago. He had wrenched it off her finger, almost pulling her finger off in the process and proceeded to wear it from that day on, in his nose.

Roka felt tears in his eyes as he looked the small object over. Thoughts of his mother flooded his mind and his heart as he felt the tears leak out of his eyes and down his cheeks. He had never had the chance to look at it like this, without blood on it, and out of Malgars nose.

Slowly, he turned it over in his fingers, seeing every perfect little detail on the golden band. And then he saw something he had never seen before.

There was writing on the inside of the band. He slowly brought it up to his face, but he couldn't read it properly. So he walked over to the sunlight streaming in through the window and found it easier to read.

"Because I love you"

"Because I loved your mother, and I know the difference" Oba said as he closed his eyes slowly. "I still remember the first time I saw her. But I never told you, because I thought you weren't old enough at the time" he chuckled a little. "And yet, at your age then, you were exposed to things so much worse" he said as he coughed again. "I guess I was wrong about your age being a factor" he admitted as he wiped his mouth.

_ _

"Can I...can I hear it?" Roka asked softly. His father smiled and sat back a bit with a nod.

_ _

"I met your mother in Cheydinhall" Oba said as he felt himself slip back into the memories. "I had been talking to the counts advisor about buying some land for a home, and had just stepped outside, and I saw her walking over the bridge on one of the ponds" he said. Roka saw a soft smile on his fathers face as he spoke. "She didn't even notice me."

_ _

"She wore a flower in her quills. She carried a basket of herbs, and her dress was simple. But, to me, when I first saw her, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever gazed upon" he said as he opened his eyes.

_ _

"Did...did you know?" Roka asked softly. His heart was starting to beat fast again.

_ _

"Roka, sometimes, we just don't know" Oba said with a soft sigh as he removed Roka's hands from his shoulders, but he held them firmly. "Sometimes, people are lucky enough to know the moment they see someone. Sometimes, they end up being with a few people before they find who they are looking for. And some, don't know the difference until they realize the right person was there in front of them the whole time" he said.

_ _

"But when I saw your mother for the first time, my heart felt like it had stopped beating. My breath caught in my throat, and my knees felt like they were going to give way. And when she turned and walked out of my sight, I felt panic and my heart beat like it going to burst from my chest. Just the thought of not seeing her made me feel like I was going to die on the spot" he said.

_ _

"You...you knew...right away?" Roka asked softly.

_ _

"Yes, I did. But your mother...she didn't know right away. She...didn't really seem to like me at first. But after a few days of talking to her and getting to know her, she began to feel the same way about me" Oba said with a longing look in his eyes as he remembered something precious that the brigade had never been able to take from him.

_ _

"Father....how do I know? How do I know I actually just like what he does to me, and that I don't actually love him?" Roka asked.

_ _

Oba smiled and gently held his sons hands in his own as he looked at him with a fatherly smile. His son was still so innocent to some things. He wondered how he could have ever thought his son was anything but.

_ _

"Roka, only you can answer that in the end. I can sit here and tell you you don't love him, but if you do love him, I can't stop you" he said. "If you do love him, and you're happy like that, what can I do to stop it?" he asked with a weak chuckle. "What more can he do to me, if I object?" he chuckled weakly.

_ _

"Father....what if I do love him? What if I love him after everything he's done?" Roka asked softly. He felt afraid of the answer. But that felt like something he ha to ask. It was the only question he had left to ask. Everything else was falling into place, questions answered and reasons understood. All except for one. But his father just smiled at him.

_ _

"You'll still be my son" he said softly. "You still are. Nothing can change that. Not even if you loved him" he said.

_ _

"Even...if all of this...is my fault?" Roka asked. Oba smiled and leant forward as he wrapped his arms around his sons neck and rested his head on his shoulder as he held onto his son.

_ _

"Yes. I'll still love you, my son. No matter what" he said softly.

_ _

Roka said nothing for a moment before he felt himself break down. His body trembled as he cried against his fathers shoulder. It was as if all the unanswered questions he had been longing for had finally made sense to him.

_ _

All this time, the reason he couldn't kill Malgar, was because he enjoyed the pleasure that the orc gave to him. He didn't love him. There was no reason for him to love him. And his father, his father still loved him after everything that he had brought upon him.

_ _

And in the end, he could still choose to love the orc if he wanted. His own choice in the matter, without anyone trying to convince him otherwise. His father gave him every reason why he didn't love him, but here he was, telling him he'd still be his son even if he chose to.

_ _

And being able to cry from such relief, it was a luxury he hadn't known in the longest of times. To have his father free him from his burden, he could never thank him enough. But he had to try. And there was one way to start making things better. He was going to save him.

_ _

"Father...I'm so sorry" Roka said as he started to pull himself together. He sniffed a few times, sniffing back his tears as his father held him. "I'm so sorry for everything I've done to you and mom. I'm so, so sorry father. It's all my fault and I want to...." He found himself unable to continue as he realized his father wasn't responding.

_ _

"Father....?"

_ _

"Father....mother" Roka said softly as he turned the ring over in his fingers slowly. He thought about his life. All the choices he had made in the past, and all the sins he had committed willingly. And he thought about his parents.

He slowly stood up as he looked around the cell he had called home for the past year. He knew every detail of the room like the back of his hand.

Was this really the way he wanted to spend the rest of his life?

"I....don't think I could be forgiven if I punished myself like this..." he said to himself quietly as he looked back down at the ring in his hand.

"I don't think you would have wanted this for me" he said as he closed his hand around the ring. "And...if I'm really unforgivable...does it matter if I'm in here?" he wondered aloud. He had never thought of it that way before. If he truly was unforgivable, did it really matter what he did? Surely he couldn't make things worse for himself.

Although some most certainly would have tried.

Eventually, he decided that if he was still unforgivable, it didn't matter if he was locked up anymore.

Dretton looked up as he heard the cell door close from where he was sitting at the exit door. For a moment he thought that Roka had decided to stay in the cell and that he had rejected his chance at freedom.

"Such a shame" Dretton said as he stood up to leave. He had been hoping Roka would have taken the chance. But perhaps the argonian didn't think along the same lines as he did. With a wipe of his forehead he turned to leave. But he stopped when he heard someone walk his way. Looking back towards the rows of cells, he saw a black dressed figure walk slowly towards him.

"I see you made your decision" Dretton said in relief as he recognized Roka's face underneath the dark hood. The leather raiment fitted his thin frame well, the belts tight across his body. A hood covered the majority of his face, and the entire outfit seemed to shimmer in the darkness. For a moment, Dretton thought he saw the outfit try to pull itself into the shadows of the hallway.

He was completely covered from head to toe. The boots secured snugly onto the tight pants, and the belts covered the seams to make it seem like one complete outfit. The gloves were thin but strong, and there was a sheath look on the belt for his blade.

"It feels...weird..." Roka said, feeling rather awkward in the unfamiliar outfit. It felt tight, even on his much more skinnier body. He knew he was thinner then he used to be, but still, how could an outfit like this fit him almost perfectly?

"Its better then that scarlet armour you had to wear, right?" Dretton asked.

"It was scarlet coloured steel, so the blood wouldn't show" Roka admitted. "I don't think blood would show on this outfit. So....it feels almost the same" he said.

"Well, I'm glad you decided to take this chance" Dretton said to him with a nod.

"I...I guess part of me still wants to be locked up...for what I did...."Roka said. He took a breath before Dretton could interrupt me. "But....the other part of me... I think it agrees with you" he said. "I want to be punished and held accountable for what I've done, but...you're right. I don't' think it would matter if it was in jail, or somewhere...somewhere else" he said.

"Roka, you have a chance to do something good in this world. I don't want to see you ruining that chance" Dretton said to him as he handed him a small coin purse. "Here. It's some gold to get you started. From some of the gold we recovered from Hackdirt" he said as he made sure Roka took it.

Roka nodded. The bag felt somewhat heavy, but he didn't want to sit down and count it right there and then. He wasn't going to worry about things like that as he put the bag on a belt loop.

Dretton stood and unlocked the prison exit and walked out, Roka following him behind. Roka stopped and took one last look back at the quiet hallway. He could see where his cell was, and for a moment, he realized he was leaving the only home he had known for the past year.

Dretton lead him through the prison and through the barracks of Chorrol's large castle and made it outside in the barracks courtyard. Once outside, Roka had to hold his hand up against his face to shield his eyes from the bright sun.

He hadn't felt the sun on his face in a year. Sure, he had felt it through the small window at the top of the prison, but this...this was like welcoming an old friend. He could hear the birds more clearly now, and the smell...the smell of the flowers of the castle yard. It smelt so inviting.

"Roka, its time for you to go" Dretton said to him from behind. Roka turned and brought his hand down.

"I..I know' Roka said to him as he nodded. "I just...it just feels weird to be actually standing outside gain" he admitted.

"I hope I don't see you in trouble again" Dretton said to him as he put his hand on the door. "Don't come back, at least don't come back like you did before" he insisted. Roka nodded.

"I won't, Captain Dretton" Roka said to him with a nod. "And...thank you, for giving me this chance. I...I promise I won't ruin it" he promised.

Dretton gave him a nod, and with a small smile on his face, he shut the large wooden door leading to the barracks. For a moment, a semi silence filled the air around Roka, as he looked at the doorway for a moment or two. He decided there was no point in hanging around anymore.

Roka turned and slowly made his way through the city. The last time he had been through the city, it had been when he was a year younger, beaten, bloodied, raped and not caring about what happened to him once he gave himself up.

How strange it was to be out in the open once more, but this time, free. The city looked different in the daytime. The stores were open and people were walking through the streets. The guards nodded to him, but paid him no mind.

Roka knew he was no longer the same boy he had once been a year ago, as he found his feet moving forward down the cobblestone path. He headed towards the city gates, beyond an enormous statue of a man holding a fallen woman.

He stopped for a moment and looked up at the statue. The man was on knees, holding a woman laid out in his arms. The man had his head up in a weather expression of agony. Roka stopped infront of the statue for a moment and looked up at it.

"Father....?"

_ _

Roka felt his fathers grip go limp, his body becoming heavy as he almost fell backwards on his knees. He wrapped his arms around his fathers torso as he held him, feeling one of his fathers arms fall to the side with a heavy thump.

_ _

"Father... Father" Roka said, his heart starting to panic as he suddenly realized what had happened.

_ _

"Talos, please. Don't...don't do this" Roka said as fresh tears brimmed along his eyes as he lowered his father to the ground. His body landed with a soft thud, his arms falling to a still at his sides. His eyes were closed, his face...calm. And he wasn't breathing.

_ _

"Dad...dad please...not now...not now" Roka cried out as he grabbed his fathers shoulders. They felt cold, like stone, the warmth having already left his lifeless body.

_ _

"Dad...please....please..." Roka found himself shouting into his fathers face as he shook him hard. His fathers head shook back and forth as his body was shaken on the cold ground. But his eyes remained closed.

_ _

"NO" Roka shouted, tears stinging his eyes as they ran down his cheeks. He felt the panic continue to rise from his heart as he shook his father. The shaking did nothing but make his body shake around and flop uselessly on the ground.

_ _

"I .. gotta do something... please dad...daddy don't die" he shouted as he shook him harder. The body was pulled up and shook as Roka felt he had no idea what to do.

_ _

"Daddy..."Roka wept as his fathers body fell back with a hard thud as he put his hands over his fathers boney chest. His hands glowed with the power of restoration magic, but the glow was dim. The power to heal was there, but it was a small power, nothing more then enough to heal a stab wound or a cut.

_ _

The glow dimmed and Roka knelt there, his hands on his fathers chest as he realized his potions wouldn't help either. His alchemy skill was impressive, but health potions were not what he had been told to study. His alchemy skills were put to use to make poisons for blades, and oils for relaxation. There was nothing in that skill to bring his father back to life.

_ _

Roka felt his breath catch in his throat as he realized his father was dead. He was already gone. His body lay on the cold stone before him, void of all life. Oba Sunder was just another corpse in the tunnels.

_ _

"Daddy..."Roka said in a hoarse voice as he looked down at his father's body. He slowly pulled his hands back and took his father's hand into his own as he held it. It felt colder then it had been a while ago. Something wet was on his fathers hand as he lifted his fathers fingers up.

_ _

Blood. His father had coughed up blood right in front of him, and he didn't even notice. His father must have been far more sick then he had let his son know, and right in front of him, he had shown it. And Roka... had done nothing.

_ _

"I'm...I'm too late..."Roka whispered as he held his fathers hand. "I...I didn't save you. I...I failed..."

_ _

Roka finally had the answers he needed. He had let Malgar trick him, let him lie and convince him to hand over his parents and be part of a life he was never meant to have. He let Rishka and many others teach him everything they knew. He let them turn him into a brother of the brigade, no matter how many times he tried to convince himself he wasn't one.

_ _

And every chance he had to stop it, he had let them pass. He had every chance to kill Malgar and end it. He had every chance to stick his blade into that orc bastard and leave him lying on the floor in a pool of blood and save his parents and get out of there.

_ _

But he never did. He let those chances pass, all because he enjoyed the sex with Malgar far too much to even think of life without him. And his mother had died during childbirth, having not seen him since the night he had handed her over. And now his father was dead, dying of sickness Roka didn't even notice.

_ _

"Its....it's all my fault....all of it" Roka said softly to no-one. "I...I let them do this to you...to mom...I could have stopped it...but...I didn't."

_ _

He held his fathers hand, the cold dead fingers pressed against his palm. Fingers that only a few moments ago had been caressing his face like someone who mattered. He felt...different. Lost, in a way. Like he had just lost his purpose. All this time, he had planned on killing Malgar so he could at least save his father. But now his father was dead. What was the point, of revenge now?

_ _

How long he sat there, he wasn't sure. He sat there, holding his fathers dead hand, unable to will himself to move. But the idea of revenge didn't completely leave his mind. He sat thinking on that idea, the idea of revenge. It wouldn't leave his mind. If anything, it started to beat stronger.

_ _

As Roka sat there, he thought on everything. Everything that had happened since the night he had woken up to hearing someone bang on the front door of his fathers house, up to the point where his father had died in his arms. Slowly, he let go of his fathers hand as he came to a decision.

_ _

"Father.... I'm sorry" he said as he slowly removed his katana blade from its sheath. "I wish you could believe me, but...it's ok if you don't" he said as he held the sharpened edge against his fathers throat. "I just need to play the charade a while longer" he whispered as he slowly slit his fathers cold throat.

_ _

The blood pooled out, still warm as it coated the long sharp blade. It spilled out of the fresh wound and onto the ground beneath them. Roka felt a hard stab in his own heart, having to do this to his father, even if he was dead. Another stab to his heart for what he had allowed to happen to his father.

_ _

Once the blade was free, Roka cleaned it off on his fingers, letting the cold blood run over his gauntlet covered fingers. He looked down at his fathers body before he leant over and pressed his mouth against his fathers ear.

_ _

"Father...I don't deserve forgiveness from you. I did this to you. So I'm not going to ask. I will kill Malgar, and Rishka, because they did this to you too. I'll turn myself in at Chorrol. I'll take whatever sentence they give me" he whispered. He went to pull away, before he whispered again.

_ _

"When you see Mom...and my baby brother....tell them I love them...and its ok if they hate me" he whispered as he pulled away.

_ _

Roka slowly stood up and left the small cell that had been his fathers home for several years. He knew what he would do. Malgar would be back in a few days. When he did, Roka would have a celebration for his return, regardless of the outcome. And then, he would kill him. And Rishka too. And while the brigade enjoyed themselves, he would head to Chorrol and turn himself in. He would tell them everything. And the brigade would be brought down.

_ _

As he headed up the ladder, his face went blank. It was much easier this time around. Maybe because he felt so devoid of emotion, it was easy to show it. He had no other reasons to really care anymore. His last reason lay dead.

_ _

As he closed the hatch, and slowly stood up, Roka realized he wasn't the same person he had been that morning. He was different. And he knew he would never be the same again. And he knew why.

_ _

He no longer cared what happened to himself.

"I did wonder now and then Father, why you lived as long as you did" Roka said softly as he stood outside the gates of Chorrol, staring at the woods to the south. Hackdirt was out there in the woods. Probably burnt to the ground, a shell of a village once more.

"Maybe... you wanted to see me once last time" Roka said as he stood there, staring into the trees. "Maybe...you wanted to tell me that lesson, and be a father to me one last time. Maybe....you just wanted to know, if I really was a brother to the brigade on the inside as well."

"Or maybe... maybe you just wanted to tell me ...that you loved me..because I was still your son" Roka said softly as he wiped a gloved thumb across his eyes. It was still foreign to him to cry like this. He wondered briefly if he would ever get used to it.

Whatever the reason his father had that day, he had lived long enough to see it come about. And he had died in Roka's arms, looking calm and at peace for the first time in years. Roka could go out to Hackdirt, find where they threw the bodies of the slaves.

But he knew it was pointless. The bodies of the brothers and sisters who remained loyal were buried in graves in their armour. The bodies of everyone else, slaves and the brothers and sisters who tried to leave or were branded as traitors, were thrown in the woods and burned.

Roka would have had no idea where his parents were buried, no mater where he looked.

Or even which bones were really theirs.

"Mother... Father... Brother... "he whispered as he brought his hand up his mouth. A small bulge under the leather on his finger was kissed against his lips. "Please be happy, wherever you are" he asked softly as he turned into the direction of Weynon Priory.

The warm sun didn't seem to penetrate the dark leather of his outfit. He felt cool and at ease in the hot sunlight. The outfit must have been better designed then he had first given it credit for.

But his legs weren't used to walking this far anymore, and he hadn't gotten very far down the road before he felt tired. His legs began to ache with each step and he found himself panting a bit, his throat already asking for water.

But he kept going. He continued to walk on as he felt his legs protest, each step starting to make his thighs feel heavier. He ignored the pain in his legs as he walked onwards down the path.

"I wonder what this Jauffre person will think when I show him my blade" Roka said softly to himself as he strode on. "Maybe he'll turn me away. Or maybe he'll demand I die for it" he thought to himself.

"But what if he doesn't though? What if he takes the blade from me and tells me to leave?" he said to himself as he stopped for a moment. "What do I do then?" he wondered. He brought his hand up to his chin and rubbed it a little as he thought. The ring bump on his finger brushed against his chin and he stopped his movements.

"I wonder... if the family farm is still there?" he thought to himself. "I guess there's no harm in at least seeing it" he thought for a few moments. "Yes...that's what I'll do. If Jauffre has nothing to do with me once I return this blade, I'll go to Cheydinhall and find the farm" he said with a small smile on his face.

The thought of going home made him smile a bit, feeling a bit lighter in his chest at the thought of returning home finally. But the thought was clouded by the fact he would be returning alone.

Eventually he saw a large roof in the distance behind a clump of trees. The roof looked old and expansive. It had to be the priory that Dretton had told him about.

"Looks like I'm here already" Roka said to himself as he walked forward.

And someone screamed.

"What the...?" Roka said as he found himself alert, the pain in his legs forgotten as he started to run forward. If someone was in trouble, he would either help, or get the heck out of there.

He raced past the trees as he ran down the path, his body beginning to scream in agony from the sudden rush of movement. Ignoring the pain as he remembered how to after the lessons he had forgotten, he hurried on. The building began to grow larger as he got closer.

Reaching a series of boulders, he crawled on top of one and took a look down. The priory was there, a large two story building that seemed to bear down upon the area in front of it. A second building, what looked like a chapel, was settle nearby.

Roka gazed down and saw he was in time to see a dark skinned figure in a stable hands clothing run past the fountain at the front of the priory. He was screaming for help as a group of figures were chasing after him.

The figures, three of them, wearing dark and red armor the likes Roka had never seen before, were chasing the dark skinned man. They were weilding maces so dark they looked black. There was something very sinister about those in the dark armor, something that gave Roka the chills.

Suddenly the armoured man, or woman, turned and instead ran after three people who were coming up another trail. A man in a set of dark grey robes, and 2 Kahjiits. The man ran forward, after another armoured figure in the distance, as the other two ran after the Kahjiits.

Roka leant over the rock as he watched the Kahjiit in the back pull out a bow and start shooting at the guy in armour. The Kahjiit in the front pulled out a blade and began to battle. Whoever these two were, they were not afraid to do battle.

The first armoured man was defeated after several well placed strikes, and Roka watched in surprise as the armour seemed to fizzle into thin air, revealing a man in red robes. He had seen armor be conjured before. Some members of the brigade would run into battle and conjour their weapons before each kill. But this, this was conjuring the likes Roka had never seen before.

As the man fell, the Kahjiits turned their attacks on the second figure bearing down on them. That figure fought hard, his mace a darkened whirl in the air as he clashed with the kahjiit. But he was felled by the Kahjiits blade and he fizzled into another man wearing dark red robes.

"What in the world...?"Roka said as he watched the two Kahjiits run up to the man they had been walking with. He had taken down the one he had ran after before and the two kahjiits seemed to congratulate him on the fact. Roka couldn't hear them as they seemed to talk together, before they ran into the chapel.

Waiting until they had closed the doors behind them, Roka slid down the rocks slowly and crept around the side as he slowly walked forward. One of the bodies was nearby and he knelt down to look at the man.

The man was a male, whose race Roka could not identify. Blood had covered the front of his dark red robes from the wounds that had felled him. Roka slid his hand into the front of the robes and felt around for a moment. He found a few gold coins, but there was nothing else on the body.

"Who are these people?" he wondered to himself as he heard a commotion nearby. He ducked back as he saw the chapel door burst open and two monks with swords, swords of all things, ran out. Roka hid behind the boulder again as the two monks ran into the large house building.

A moment later the three from earlier ran out of the chapel as well, and followed the monks into the building. The door slammed shut behind them and a moment of silence passed as Roka watched the doors closely.

Roka slowly walked out from behind the rock as he waited to see what would happen. A few minutes went by and nothing happened. Roka put a hand on the rock as he went to take a step out of the shadow of the rock.

But before he too ore then a couple of steps, he had to stop as the doors opened again. One of the monks and the man from earlier emerged and walked around the side of the building. They seemd to be in a hurry.

The two kahjiits emerged as well, but they didn't follow. They stood back as they seemed to discuss something between themselves before they followed.

"I wonder what's going on? Are they under attack here?" Roka thought as he stepped out from the rock's shadow and made his way to the building. He had to find out. If one of those monks was Jauffre, he needed to get to him first.

He didn't get very far before he heard someone cry behind him.

"For Mehrunes Dagon"

Three armoured men were running at him from up the path the kahjiit had walked up before, and they each wielded a dark coloured mace.

Roka put his hand on his blade as he crouched slightly. He knew he hadn't fought anyone in over a year, and it had been that long since his blade had tasted a kill. He found his body tense, the aches of running earlier forgotten. He felt like a coiled spring, ready to finally unleash itself.

The first one got close, but before he could land a hit, Roka drew the blade and sliced through the dark armor in one single slice. Blood sprayed into the air like bright red ribbons as Roka could see the look of horror behind the mans mask. The man let out a gurgled cry as the other two ran up behind him.

"You'll pay for that" one of them shouted as the man Roka just struck fizzled, revealing a dark skinned man in red robes. Roka crouched as the man swung his mace at him, but it traveled over Roka's head. Roka ducked and rolled to the side.

The man swung again and Roka ducked, his body getting more fired up as it finally had a chance to unload itself. His legs and arms moved with ease as he crouched, the man above him brought his mace upwards to send down. Roka pushed with his legs as he launched himself forward.

With his arms outstretched, he collided with the man, sending them both crashing to the ground. The man landed with a thud as Roka drew his sword up and before the man under him could register what happened, the blade was planted into the mans chest. The blade pierced through the armor as he cried out, the armour fizzling and revealing a set of blood stained robes.

"Paradise....awaits me....' The man choked out, blood spurting through his lips before he fell silent. The third one aimed a kick at Roka's head, but Roka rolled out of the way as he pushed himself up. He dodged another attack by him as he brought his blade up.

With a heavy clash and black sparks flying, the katana blade blocked the dark mace as Roka stared into the mask of the man above him. The mask was black and resembled a human face, but the only thing living on the fae were the eyes filled with murder that glared at him.

Roka pushed forward and the mans arms flew up, exposing himself as Roka grabbed the handle of his blade and carved upwards.

The blade sliced up through the mans chest, piercing easily through the armor as he fell back, stumbling as his armor fizzled around him. The man stared at the open wound across his chest, the blood spraying into the air as he gaped in apparent disbelief. He looked at Roka, the look on his face showing surprise that he was actually beaten.

"Para...dise" he let out as he fell back with a loud thud, a body in bloodstained robes. Roka slowly stood up as he found himself panting, holding his blade at his side.

His body may have been a coiled spring, but it was a worn out one. He hadn't moved that fast in a long time, and he wondered briefly who he had managed to stay so fast after all this time. His muscles suddenly reminded him how sore they were as he stood up, his sword sliding into its sheath.

"Who are these people?" Roka said to himself as he looked at the three bodies around him. They had rushed at him without fear, without mercy it seemed. Like the ones who came before them. But they felled easily. A little too easily.

"Are they even fighters?" Roka asked as he caught his breath, standing back up. "They...they can't be real fighters. I've fought more skilled people then these before. It's like...it's like they picked up those strange maces for the first time" he said to himself.

"By the nine, he took out three of them by himself?" Roka heard from behind him. He turned slowly as he saw the Kahjiits running up to him. The one with the bow was wearing chainmail armour over a pair of brown leather leggings. He was barefoot, and his hair was done up in dreads behind a bandanna.

The other one sheathed his sword as he approached him. He was bare chested with a long mane that was tied back in a ponytail. He wore only light green pants and he was barefoot as well. The one behind kept his bow up, but the one in front didn't seem exactly afraid of Roka.

When Roka looked up at his face, when he looked into the kahjiits face properly, he felt his heart stop beating.

"Did you do all this?" the Kahjiit asked him. Roka had to swallow a lump in his throat. He couldn't answer. The words simply wouldn't come. For some reason, he felt like he couldn't breath. It took him a few moments before his voice decided to co-operate with him.

"Yes...I'm responsible for their deaths" Roka said softly. His knees felt weak, like they were going to give out. He had no idea what was happening to him. He had never felt this way before after seeing someone for the first time.

"Well, you took care of them alright" the Kahjiit with the bow said as he gave Roka a friendly grin.

"My names Kass. What's your name?" the bare chested Kahjiit said. Roka slowly removed his hood, as he looked over the Kahjiit. For some reason, he didn't want to leave the Kahjiit's side. Just the thought of seeing this kahjiit walk away and leaving Roka behind, it set his heart in a panic induced frenzy.

Roka took several deep breaths to steady himself as he felt Kass watch him. He felt his heart slow down, but the strange feelings were still there. He decided he would think on them later, as this was not the time to be asking strangers why he was feeling so strange. So, as calmly as he could, he spoke to him.

"My name is Roka Sunder. And I'm looking for Brother Jauffre."