Markarth Khajiit

Story by Sub Rosa on SoFurry

, , , , , , ,

Trying to keep humor in mind when I write. Someone let me know how I'm doing. I'm sleepy.


"Yes I got the shipment," the old man snapped, "what have you done today?"

"I've been taking care of our customers, husband dearest," his wife said, "By myself, as usual."

Kleppr and Frabbi were the old couple who owned the Silverblood inn in Markarth. They had excellent service, but what always stuck with customers was how much they bickered and argued.

"Oh, so you've been taking care of the customers, then?" Kleppr asked. "Please, do tell me who that lovely woman behind you requires."

"Huh? What-" Frabbi said as she turned around.

Behind her, a khajiit wearing battered elven armor and a waraxe stood, wavering. Her armor was dented, and her leg pieces had long, jagged scratches from slaughterfish teeth, the white fur on her muzzle was stained with the blood of salmon. Frabbi noticed none of this. She noticed only the khajiit's red,

vein-cracked eyes glaring into her soul.

"If this is a joke," Zahni said, "It is not funny."

"I'm sorry, what?" Frabbi asked her. "Is there something need?"

"Khajiit rented a room," Zahni said. "and was led to believe there was a bed in it."

"Well of course there's a bed in there! This is an inn, not a stable. It's on your right when you go in," Frabbi said.

"That," Zahni said, voice a low growl, "is not a bed. That is a rock. A giant, flat rock."

"Well what do you think we sleep on, deary?" Frabbi asked. "That's just how Markarth is! You can sleep on the floor if you want."

"...what?" she asked.

"The dwarves made those beds ages ago," Frabbi continued. "Makes for a straight back and good posture. It's amazing how my husband has still managed to develop a slouch, isn't it?"

"Oh yes, that's the charm I married you for," Kleppr quipped.

Zahni looked to her left. On the floor, in front of the fireplace, were several fur rugs. She walked to them, stacked them on top of each other, and started walking to her room.

"Where are you going with that?!" Kleppr asked.

"To sleep!" she shouted back. She shut her door, threw the rugs on the stone bed, and for the first time in three days, slept.

Meanwhile, down the road, up a mountain, around a cliff and in an ancient palace built by men and women who would one day transcend existence, on a throne built to seat the governor of a civilization whose engines altered reality itself to make machines that could not work, sat a man who was trying to understand the whims of the high elves.

Jarl Igmund was simple. He liked his people. He liked the empire. He liked defending his people. He did not like the group that called themselves, 'the forsworn.' They weren't like normal enemies- they hid like cowards, living as normal people, only declaring war when their victims had no chance of fighting back. He wanted to march his armies into the hills and stomp them out of existence, but then they would be weakened if the stormcloaks attacked. He felt like he was up to his armpits in rebels lately. He hated rebels.

In front of him was Celetan, an Aldmeri Dominion Justiciar- an elite mage trained to locate, interrogate, and exterminate enemies of the Aldmeri Dominion. He was a fresh arrival- his predecessor was officially recently found dead from a heart attack in his bedchambers. Unofficially, he was found dead with the image of a black hand burned into his chest, a dagger in his heart, and his eyes replaced with two white rocks. Celetan's promotion was very timely- he became eligible for the position one day before the 'heart attack.' At the moment, he was informing the Jarl of the Dominion's newest mission- the finding of a certain suspected forsworn.

"I don't understand," the Jarl said, "Why are the Aldmeri Dominion interested in the Forsworn now? They have lived in the hills for years, murdering my people and harming trade. What is your interest now?"

"The Aldmeri Dominion has decided this particular forsworn is a threat to much more than just your lands, Jarl. My orders are clear- I am to assist you in doing whatever it takes to annihilate him. interrogating any forsworn you can bring me should be about like interrogating Talos cultists, I imagine."

"You must admit, Justiciar, it is strange- why does one Forsworn pose such a threat to the dominion? That's like saying a goat poses a threat to a saber cat."

"I'm afraid," Celetan answered, "I can not tell you, as I do not know myself. I do know that I almost never get direct orders- the only people we are ordered to find and destroy are those who have proven themselves incredibly dangerous. However, I do have a guess."

"I'm listening."

"You know the forsworn worship the Daedra- call them, 'the old gods.' I suspect one of the more prominent forsworn may have brokered a deal with them."

"Which ones?" the Jarl asked.

"Who knows. All of them, maybe."

The jarl's eyes popped open.

"By the eight! All of them?!" he asked. "How could you stop such a person?"

"Usually, by putting electricity through their bodies until they're black and crispy," Celetan answered. "Even Daedra fear the purging power of electricity."

The Jarl shuddered.

"Let me know what help you need," Igmund said, "and it is yours."

"Wonderful. Now, first, we're going to need an interrogation room- I believe your wizard's dwarven museum has a functional interrogation chamber, actually; we'll start by repurposing it for our needs."

And so the Jarl and the Justiciar made plans to find the forsworn demon.


Zahni woke up to a knocking on the door.

"Hello?" a young woman called. "Are you still in there, ma'am?"

Zahni groaned.

"Khajiit is still here," she said. "Why do you wake me?"

"It's three in the afternoon, and you still have all of our rugs. Are you still using them?"

It took Zahni a second to remember that she had taken the rugs for the bed.

"No, I'm not. Just a second..."

She picked up the rugs and walked over to the door, then opened it.

"Ah!" the young lady said, "Thank you. They go a long way in making the entry room look more welcoming."

Zahni yawned and nodded. "Yes. Speaking of making welcome, where can Khajiit find breakfast? Or lunch. Food."

"Oh, you can get food from many of the market stall vendors," she said. "There's also a nice old orc lady up the road around the bend- nice for an orc lady, anyway- she can probably repair your armor, for a small fee."

"Thank you, Miss." Zahni said. A market sounded perfect- she needed food and information, and everywhere she'd been, both of those were things that could be bought with gold. She stepped outside, and the sunlight pierced her eyes like needles. She winced, letting her enormous pupils shrink back down to slits. When she could see, she took in her surroundings.

The night before, when she stumbled into town, the roads were empty- devoid of life, except for the occasional guard, a priest, and a drunk. Even they seemed on edge. Now, though, it was filled with stalls. People selling small silver trinkets, fresh bloody beef, exotic weapons from far-off lands, and even a few stalls for the magically inclined. She ate breakfast, then made her way over to a wizard stall.

Inside was an old woman- ancient, by the looks of her. She was stooped over an alchemy table, humming a tune and making a potion.

"Excuse me ma'am," Zahni said. "Khajiit would like to buy some potions."

The old woman waved her hand at her. "Oh, don't bother with the high-speech. I'm an old woman mixing mushrooms, not a mane," she said.

Zahni cracked a grin. "Mixing mushrooms, hm? Did you learn about that when you were studying the khajiit's language?"

"Heh. Yeah, some of that too. What kind of potion are you looking for, sweet?" the crone asked.

"Khaji- I need a potion that can make me able to do magic better," she said. "I have heard of such things, but I am very new at magic- do you have such potions?"

"Uh... sorta," she said, biting her lower lip. "It isn't quite as simple as you said it, though. Better at magic how?"

Zahni shrugged. "I do not know. I know wizards drink potions when they need to be able to do magic, but... that is all I know."

The crone chuckled at her, then pointed at a chair. "Sit down, sweet, and let's talk. Tell me what you know about magic- how many spells can you cast?"

"Well, just one," Zahni said, "but it's very useful. It helps me find things."

"Helps you find things..." she mumbled. "Show me."

Zahni pulled the spell into her hand, and the blue mists swirled up in a small spiral. She tightened her hand into the correct gesture, and a flood of blue mana streamed straight into the old crone's chest. She looked down at it.

"Huh! That one's called clairvoyance, by most," she said. "Looks like you were looking for me when you cast it."

Zahni raised an eyebrow. "I was? I don't remember..."

Her tail twitched ever so slightly as she realized what it meant. She was looking for someone who knew something about the forsworn. The spell lead her here. She could direct her there.

"Oh, of course! Stupid me," Zahni said. "I was looking for someone who could tell me more about magic," Zahni said. "I forgot to cast it this morning when the market opened."

"Well you've come to the right lady," she said. "Lessons aren't free, though- you got a little coin on you?"

Zahni picked up her coinpurse. "Um... yes. A little. I'm going to have to find some money soon..."

"You'd think the Dominion would pay you better than that," the crone said.

"It's plenty where I'm from," she said, "but the farther into the empire you go, the more expensive things get..."

If Zahni wasn't counting coins, she might have realized she told the crone she was of the Aldmeri Dominion, and how that might not have been a great idea. Instead, She just pulled out a few septims.

"What will this buy me?" she asked.

The crone looked at her, and then the few septims, and then back at her.

"How about I just give you one on the house," she said.

"You mean it?" Zahni said, eyes bright and teeth smiling. "You will teach Khajiit more magic?"

"Of course I do!" she said. "Just, not right now- I've gotta make a living, you know? Tell you what- I close up shop in about an hour. You help me run the stand until then, and then you and me can go to the bath house. I'll teach you some magic there."

"Bath house?" Zahni asked. "With Skyrim water? Do the men sound like little boys when they come out?"

The old woman chuckled. "Some of them. Still, it's a good place to get the dust from the road off your back. And in your case, blood off your face." Zahni licked her lip, then winced in disgust. "Yes, Khajiit will do this."

The old woman rolled her eyes. "You people and that third person. Ugh."

For the next hour, Zahni helped the old woman organize potions, ingredients, and weigh septims to check for authenticity. When they were done, they folded the stall up, and wheeled the cart into her house. Finally, they went outside the city walls and down to the bathhouses.

Inside were a few female guards and commoners. The stream flowed in from outside, filling up several trenches with water. A large fire burning in the center warmed those who were freshly bathed, and provided the only light inside. Zahni could see several groups of women clustered in the back corners, gossiping. Zahni figured that since they were willing to just sit and rest in it, it couldn't be too cold.

She and the old woman removed their clothes and put them on the bench nearby. The crone stepped into the water and sighed. Zahni shrugged and stepped off into the water.

She gasped and her eyes opened wide.

"Cold!" she said. "Cold!"

"I know girl," the crone said, "it's Skyrim. This is water fresh off a frozen mountaintop."

"Cold!"

The old woman grabbed the khajiit by the head and dunked her under water. Zahni flailed for a second, and then her arms quit flailing. The crone let the Zahni up, and she breathed a few times.

"Sorry," she said, "I think I'm okay now."

The old woman grinned. When she was holding the khajiit underwater, her hand was on the back of her head. She cast a spell straight into the back of her skull, and the cat didn't even notice.

"Don't mention it," the old lady said. "So, what's a cat like you doing in Skyrim? You're not like most people around here."

"I'm looking for a forsworn," she said. "The dominion really doesn't like this guy- I'm not sure why. I don't think I should be telling you this, though," she said.

"Oh, don't be silly," the crone said. "What's their name?"

"Lionfire," Zahni said. "But it's weird, right? Doesn't sound like a Forsworn name to me. Sounds like an Imperial gladiator name. Apparently he got noticed by the thalmor, but I don't know what he did- just that he's dangerous."

The crone thought to herself. She never heard the name, and she was a forsworn information agent.

"So you're going to execute him when you find him?" the crone asked her, wrapping her arm around Zahni's shoulders. She slipped another spell into her, keeping her relaxed.

"Maybe. I don't like the dominion anymore, but everybody we've killed so far has been very dangerous- an orc warlord, slavers, and worse. So he's probably dangerous, but since I know the dominion isn't very honest now, I need to make sure. If he isn't a threat to civilians, then he is no concern of mine. If he is targeting children and farmers, then I will kill him," Zahni said, scrubbing the filth out of her fur.

The old crone motioned to the corner of the room, near a group of other women. "Let's move over here," she said. "I have some friends I'd like to talk to." Zahni followed her, and soon was surrounded by several other women. They began speaking the native language- Zahni heard the word 'aldmeri' and 'khajiit' a few times, but she didn't feel worried at all- she trusted the crone completely.

One of the women reached up and grabbed a knife from the bench behind her, then pulled Zahni over toward where the water drained. She pulled her under water, put the knife against her throat, and then the spell ran out.

The first sign the forsworn women had that something was wrong was when the one with the knife was jerked under water. The second sign was when Zahni leapt out of the bath trench, dashed toward the exit, and screamed,

"Forsworn!"

The guards pulled out their bows and arrows.

"Where?!" one asked her.

Zahni pointed to the back corner. "Those women in the back corner, by the drain- they cast a spell at me and tried to kill me!"

A green bolt of mind-altering magic flew from the corner and hit the guard in the chest.

"OI!" she screamed, "You'll pay for that!" She loosed an arrow into the group, and the women screamed. One of the forsworn grabbed her bow and arrows, and began loosing arrows back. After half a minute of this, Zahni realized they hadn't hit each other once.

They couldn't see in this dim light.

She slunk over to her gear and grabbed her axe, then made her way back to the naked forsworn women who took defensive positions in the rear of the bathouse. None of them saw her coming. It was easy.

When she was finished, she went back to the guards, and told them some of what happened- and that the old crone that lead her here wasn't among the other women. Somehow, she escaped.

"So, wait-" one of the guards asked her. "Are you with the Justiciar who got here the other day?"

Zahni's heart skipped a beat. "Ah, no. I was not aware the Thalmor already sent a unit here," she said. "They do not like the risk of traitors, so they don't tell us where our groups are. Please, do not tell the Justiciar that it was a thalmor who stopped them- just a visiting khajiit who has errands out of town."

"Sure, sure," the woman said. "Hm... From the description, that sounds like Adla. We'll be sure to pay her family a visit in the morning- I guess the Justiciar got that interrogation room set up just in time, eh?"

Zahni forced a chuckle. "Yeah, talk about timing," she said. "I bet he's going to get them... really good. Hey, you know, I need to get out of here- I'm just going to get dressed and go."

"Stay safe," one of the guards said. "Don't let the forsworn get you!"

"Heh. Yeah, definitely," she said.

She dried off with one of the dead women's towels, threw her armor on, and bolted to the city. When the Justiciar heard about the forsworn attack, he wouldn't wait until morning. He would come in the middle of the night, dragging the family kicking and screaming to interrogation room.

And if they did that, she might never figure out where to find the forsworn.