The Ledger Codex - Part 1: Contracts, not causes


  • “So, where did you say they were attacked?” The mercenary was hunched over the map of the province that he had just taken out of his bag. The canvas was ragged, its curled up edges a clear sign of weathering. The map itself was still clearly readable despite the occasional blood stain dotting the artistically drawn mountains and roads of the province. The Argonian smiled; in a way his map had taken up the traits of the province it depicted: Skyrim was an ancient land full of beautiful vistas and tucked away ruins. But it was also a harsh land where wars were fought over simple things and fights broke out over stupid things. Blood was an easy thing to come by in this land. He looked up and smiled at the Nord standing on the other end of the counter. As per usual, his smile unsettled the man. Most would be insulted, but in his line of work it wasn’t all that bad.

     

    “I believe they said they were attacked as they passed ritual point, where the river bends around that strange standing stone” The Nord pointed at the location on the map. Visibly surprised by the small black cross inked onto the exact spot.

     

    “You’ve been there before?” He stuttered. Only Necromancers ever went there for the stone.

     

    “Well, I hunt bounties, sometimes those bounties are on the heads of necromancers stupid enough to try to perform their rituals at the stone.” The Argonian dismissed the man’s fear with a hiss.

     

    The man bent his head apologetically. It wasn’t right of him to assume. Even if the mercenary in front of him had actually visited the stone more than a few times. Mostly for the fantastic view of the tundra it provided. But that wasn’t really a thing one would disclose with their employer in this career: appreciation for nature wasn’t really a prerequisite for the job. It certainly helped though.

     

    “Anyway, I have your word you’ll pay me?” In Skyrim honour was often the best leverage.

     

    The Nord nodded and showed a purse filled with the items the lizard’s order held so dear: septims.

     

    “20 septims if you find out what attacked them and ten times as much if you bring back proof you killed the bastards. On the honour of the companions.”

     

    “It isn’t good form to swear on someone else’s honour, even if they pay your bills,” the lizard grinned, “but sure, we’ve got a gold pact”. The lizard extended his hand across the counter and offered it like a fat Khajit merchant happy to have fleeced yet another idiot. Some of the others saw the whole ordeal as near ritualistic, but to him it was just that; a trade. Your gold for my skills with a bow and blade. All this religious shit made the job only more difficult. And if the old blade was to be believed the whole Goldpact had been founded by people uninterested in the gods for people uninterested in the gods. He was clearly one of the latter.

     

    The Nord accepted his offer and shook his hand, Teineeva never knew whether the Nords tried so hard to show they had a strong grip to impress him or to show their superiority over him. In either way he thought it was guarshit. Just shake the damn hand. You idiot.

     

    "You're lucky all the companions are busy, wouldn't have hired you otherwise."

     

    “Very lucky indeed. I’ll take my leave then. I expect my money to be here, waiting for me as I get back. 200 septims, nothing less.”

     

    The Nord tried to utter some protest, that there would only be 200 septims in it for the mercenary if he would bring back proof of the demise of whatever attacked the refugees. He probably hurled some insult after him when he noticed the lizard didn’t care but it missed the Argonian’s scaly tail and hit the hard wooden door of the meadery.

     

    A small cluster of make-shift tents had been set up outside the Lucky Moons meadery. Mostly refugees from the war. There was a small collection of races. Mostly Nords but there was the occasional Dunmer or Bosmer. Hell there was even an Argonian couple. Speaking of which, when he walked out the door, narrowly escaping a “Get your fat lizard ass back in here!”, he found the male of the couple in a heated discussion with two Nords and a Dunmer.

     

    “You two need to share your tent, there’s people who need a place to sleep and you’ve got far more than you need!” One of the Nords, a woman, proclaimed.

     

    “You are not going anywhere near my tent.” The Argonian hissed, his tail slamming into the ground. None of his opponents were impressed by the warning, the Nords even drew their steel. But they probably should have been. A single step in the direction of the Argonian’s tent and the male would have ripped their heads off or died trying. Of course the Nords couldn’t smell a thing, and that Dunmer was clearly but a young one if he couldn’t recognize the distinct musk that surrounded the tent.

     

    The female had just laid an egg, and even the assimilated would gladly die to protect their hatchlings. Teineeva looked at his mule, Big Toe. What do you think I should do, you fat plague? The mule looked at him, looked like it was about to roll its eyes at him and returned to face its lunch. No goddamn help. A familiar mantra echoed through his thoughts; take contracts, not causes. The goldpact way.

     

    Teineeva turned back and looked at the scene. On the one hand was an overprotective father, on the other were three simple souls asking for a simple solution to a more complex problem. A problem he had nothing to do with. Take contracts, not causes.

     

    He walked away and pulled on Big Toe’s reins, detaching him from the railing he had hitched him to.

     

    “Come on, Toe. We have work to do.”

     

    He didn’t fix these problems. He killed people who became problems and that was exactly what he was going to do.
    “Take contracts, not causes” he mumbled and nodded.


    Beneath him the white river flew along like a long and slender snake. He pierced his eyes, searching for his prey as his feathers rustled in the wind. The skies above the whiterun plains were oddly peaceful for this time of the year; no snow, no storms, not even any clouds. Just the cold winds that haunted the throat. Despite the evidence to the contrary he knew the winter would be difficult, the Nords would continue their war and it wouldn’t be long before they would start hunting him again, or destroying the forests he called home. A silver shiver disturbed his train of thought, and without any sign of hesitation he dove down. His talons plunged into the water and grabbed his long awaited prize.

     

    The Argonian that rode alongside the river smiled at the sight of the predator. At least someone was being rewarded for their patience he thought. He calmly patted his mule on its shoulder.

     

    “What do you think Toe? Should we stop and have ourselves some supper?”

     

    The large mule blew in response. Making his master laugh.

     

    “You’re all work and no fun, you know that? Fine we’ll wait until we’re finished for today.” The lizard replied.

     

    Big Toe neighed and began to trot enthusiastically. Teineeva understood why the animal wanted to just get on with it. It was cold enough to put those damned draugr back to rest. The faster they would get back to the warmth of a fire the better. In retrospect he would have preferred not to take the job and to just continue on towards the Rift. Winter had arrived which meant he was done for the year, it was time to go hole up in the fort and spend the entire winter in front of the hearth. He could really go for some of Durak’s bear stew right now. He shook his head and tried to focus on the task ahead of him.

     

    Apparently someone had been attacking refugees along this road. The most likely culprits were either the bandits in the foothills of the throat or a different group of refugees. In either case they shouldn’t pose too much of an issue. At least not as long as he didn’t charge in like a boar blinded by rage.

     

    Big Toe suddenly came to a stop and nickered. “Sithis’ blood” the Argonian exclaimed as the stench of rotting cadavers swarmed his nostrils; they had found what they were looking for. Teineeva hopped off of the mule and tied Big Toe to a nearby tree. He would have to take a closer look at the scene.

     

    Two dead Nords, an incinerated breton and a heavily armed Argonian. Who would blame the guards if they were to arrest him? He grinned. Better get this over with quickly or he might just have to explain the situation to those bumbling idiots. A short investigation of the attack site made clear that there had been two attackers. It appeared the poor Breton had attempted to cast a fire cloak to defend herself and had ultimately failed. Charring her flesh beyond recognition. But the other two had been mauled to death by what appeared to be a rather blunt axe and a wooden club. Yep, his original hypothesis seemed correct. Both were most likely desperate refugees themselves who had turned to banditry after losing their last savings to one of the clans that hid away in the foothills of the Throat.

     

    Damn idiots, he hissed at the thought. What the hell did they hope to accomplish by attacking others who were at least as unfortunate as themselves? His tail hammered the ground.

     

    These idiots were barely worth a mention in his ledger. But he couldn’t break with tradition, he had forced the rule upon himself and wouldn’t stray from it now.

     

    That being said, he still had to find them. He turned back around to Big Toe, who was peacefully munching on some mountain flowers.

     

    “Toe, I think we’ll have to wait for nightfall.” The Argonian looked worried. He knew that the refugees turned bandit would be easy to locate once Masser and Secunda were out. Those idiots probably had no idea how to hide a fire. And they were going to need one in this cold. And so was he.
    His worries were quickly dispatched as Toe blew and turned around in protest, hoping he could find his way to the Whiterun stables on his own. Bloody mules were as smart and stubborn as donkeys, and as strong and fast as a horse, but were a lot cheaper than those pure blooded horses most other warriors were so proud of, purely because the nobility didn’t want anything to do with them. Teineeva was starting to understand why. Big Toe, pulled the reins which kept him attached to the tree, managed to undo the knot in a single movement and started running. A crazed lizard on his heels.

     


    “Could you put some fucking wood on that fire!” The bald man uttered in between shivers. They should just have gone to town for the night, he thought. It was way too fucking cold to camp outside. Especially along the river. The thought of rolling into the water in his sleep haunted him, but he wasn’t going to show her that.

     

    “Shut up you milkdrinker, by Malacath’s tusks, what are you? A Nord or a cat?” An orc woman answered. “If you keep complaining I’ll make sure to put your wood on the fire!” She slowly swept her fingers over the handle of the axe on her hip. It was a simple peasant’s axe but sadly they weren’t in any position to get anything better. If only they could convince the hill clans of taking them in.

     

    “Oh fuck off woman, you wouldn’t know the difference between a carrot and a dick, you would suck anything.”

     

    She jumped up and pulled her axe out of its sheath; “Repeat that if you dare!”. She was sure of it now, they would go to see the clans in the next morning and ask to be admitted, if they were to ask for proof that she was a killer, she would just cut this arsehat’s head off, if he would still have it on him that was.

     

    Before they could continue however, a commanding but clearly suffering voice echoed in the wind.

     

    “Could you both just shut up, and tell me your names?!”

     

    The orc let her axe down, their names? Who would want to know their fucking names? They were refugees, no one cared for refugees, especially the ones turned bandits. Sure there were the Jorvaskrr idiots, but she wasn’t going to accept pity from a pack of mangy old warriors, or that fucking high elf for that matter.

     

    “Oh thank the void, at least you know how to make a decent fire.” The voice continued as its source emerged from the darkness: A tall Argonian, most of his body was covered in heavy leather armour, studded with what appeared to be orichalcum nails. The armour left only his face visible, which was hiding beneath a grey cowl, tailormade to hide the two horns on the back of his head. Two piercing blue eyes peeking out from underneath it. Behind him a hulking black mass remained in the darkness.

     

    “So, what are you two bumbling idiots called?” The lizard hissed as he warmed up at their fire. As the duo didn’t respond, he grew angry as his tail smacked the ground behind him. “Well, hurry up I don’t have all night, there’s a fat reward and a great bottle of black marsh ale waiting for me in Whiterun!”

     

    The orc launched herself at him. What the hell did he think that he was just going to stumble into their camp, as tiny as it was, and start giving orders? A quick punch in her stomach taught her to respect strangers. No it wasn’t a punch, the asshole had simply opened his palm enough so that she would impale herself on his claws. Damn lizard. She spat on his feet.

     

    “I said I want your names, assholes!” He hissed, louder as the wind swept off his cowl, revealing the brown scales and the crimson stripes running down his face. The dark mass behind him moved, impatient.

     

    “Who do you think you are?!” The Nord jumped up, his wooden maul at the ready.

     

    “I am your mother! Seriously, you two certainly haven’t been in the business for long if you don’t know who I am. It’s about time you call quits, don’t you think? Now, what are your names?!” The last question was accompanied by another slap of his tail, as he leapt forward and clutched his hand around the Nord’s throat. “So?” He hissed, “I’ve never met a Nord afraid of telling his own name.”

     

    “I’m not afraid,” the Nord uttered. He clearly felt the cold hands of the lizard on his neck, his claws digging into his skin. It was how he had always imagined frost spells would feel like. How could this guy survive in the cold like that? “I’m Olfig Blade-wetter,” he continued.

     

    The lizard smiled, and nodded. Proceeding to bash the Nord’s face in with his free fist. That was one. His cheerful moment was interrupted when he felt the dull blade of an unsharpened axe, not much better than that idiot’s maul, hit his back. His armour deflected most of the damage but there was definitively going to be a sore spot there. He turned around and within seconds seemingly conjured a dagger out of his sleeve.

     

    The orc noticed a flash as the red flames reflected upon the short blade. She knew she was done for and instinctively closed her eyes. This was not the glorious death she had hoped for. But could she really hope for Malacath’s blessing? He had done nothing to protect her and her brethren when they got embroiled in that skirmish.

     

    She felt the steel latch onto her skin. It was extremely sharp, like a razor but dented. What kind of asshole carried around dented blades? However, death didn’t come for her. Instead the same order was repeated: “What is your name!”.

     

    She might as well get over with it. “Grulmar the tusking greenskin!” She spotted, immediately regretting her decision as the blade quickly changed position and passed along the bones of her neck, causing severe pain as it grinded its way through the bone like a saw.

     

    “What is your name!”

     

    “Grulmarina the lizard tusking greenskin!” She laughed, coughing up blood. To her surprise, the lizard nodded.
    “I’ll take that. Grulmar will certainly appreciate the joke, I doubt he was aware he was this famous. Orc matrons are already naming their ugly little rants after him, ha!”. The lizard hissed.


    “Olfig fucking blade-wetter, can you believe that Toe?” Teineeva laughed as he wiped his blade clean.

     

    “It’s as if these Nords have run out of ideas. Either that or this bastard came from a very long line of blade pissers!” He stored his blade and warmed his hands up some more, can’t have frostbitten fingers when you’re about to conclude some age-old coward’s legacy. “Fucking blade-wetters,” he grinned.

     

    The mule in the shadows behind him snorted and stirred around impatiently.

     

    “Alright, Toe. I get it you’re cold! So am I. Just let me get over with this.” He sneered back at the creature. Alright, let’s get to it then. He walked to Toe and took a small book and a quill from one of his saddlebags. After he found what he was looking for, he returned to his place near the fire.

     

    He had run out of ink weeks ago. With the imperial embargo still firmly enforced, the goods from the other provinces were hard to come by. No wine, no iron vitriol, not even gallnuts and acacia gum had been nearly unseen since the days of the great war: trading with Elsweyr was still a bit of a sore spot for many in the Empire. The Nords made due with ink harvested from squids but with the winter approaching less and less vessels were leaving port. Not that he could blame them. It’s not like I really need ink, now do I? He dipped the quill in the orc’s blood and did what he did best, beside killing people of course.

     

    First he wrote down the name of the Nord, not without a snigger. Then came the orc. By the hist, where the fuck did she hear Grulmar’s name? And more importantly, how could she have heard of that little green leech but not him? If he hadn’t been laughing as hard he would have felt insulted. Grulmarina the lizard tusking greenskin… How did she come up with that? Well at least it had been worth a good laugh. Too bad she had to die.

     

    He closed the ledger and stomped out the fire with his boot. It was time to go. The lizard walked back to Bigtoe and patted him on the neck as his other hand unbuckled the saddlebag.

     

    “I’m sorry you had to see that Toe, you know how aggressive I get when I’m using the sap, it’s difficult to control it. But I have to use it if I don’t want to freeze to death out here, sadly I wasn’t born with your furry hide.”

     

    The mule happily pressed its head against his master’s side as the master in question slid the ledger back into its usual place.

     

    “Yes I’m happy you’re fine too.” The lizard used his now free hand to tickle the beasts’ underbelly. “So now that’s done, what do you think should we try to catch a nap in Whiterun before sunrise?”

     

    Teineeva tried getting back into his saddle when Bigtoe suddenly moved back and walked back to the campfire, where he pushed against the lifeless outlaws with his nose.


    “Thank you for reminding me,” The lizard laughed and got to work, hauling the bodies onto the mule. He had to make sure he had proof.


    Brill was unpleasantly surprised when he was awoken by a series of loud thumps coming from the front door. Whoever it was, he or she was clearly not intending to get a bed in the bannered mare or at the camp and waiting until tomorrow to speak with him.

     

    He carefully walked down the stairs, a small crack in the thatch roof let in an unwelcome visitor and he greeted it with a shiver. This winter wasn’t going to be good, he could feel it in his bones. He knew that in extreme cases the Jarl would let him and the other farmers that lived around the city in the walls just to ensure that they would have proper shelter from the cold, but what about the refugees? The Nord shook his head. The Harbringer would make sure they wouldn’t be left behind, and otherwise the companions would make sure of it.

     

    He had initially been a bit suspicious of the elf. Brill was no warrior, at best he had always been a bit of a joke to most companions. He used to work for Vignar Grey-mane, and as much as he respected the old warrior, he was ecstatic when the Harbringer entrusted him with the charge of the meadery. A recovering alcoholic. Not many people had taken such risks for him, no one had since Vignar had pulled him off the streets, gave him a home and a job and helped him kick his habit. The first few years were extremely rough, spending all your time with a bunch of nord warriors wasn’t easy when you were trying to stop drinking. The humongous amount of mead Jorvaskr consumed had become even clearer to him after he had taken over the meadery. Speaking of the old man, Brill hoped he would be alright; the icy winds that could be heard outside announced nothing good.

     

    Another series of thumps crept in from the outside.

     

    “Xal Xuthing Wamassu! Will you get the bloody door already?! It’s freezing out here!” The voice was indistinct; to anyone it would simply be the voice of a freezing man. Brill hurried his pace.

     

    He didn’t recognize the words the man used, but they sounded outlandish. Was it an elf? The Harbringer? Brill stopped and shook his head in disbelief. Unless there was a dragon rampaging around the city, that old bear wasn’t going to leave his books. And he probably wouldn't be banging on his door yelling things in Highelf. Well then who was this visitor? A Khajit? One from the caravan perhaps, hoping to find shelter from the harsh winds?

     

    When it finally came to facing the door, Brill was almost lost to his machinations. What if the person outside was out for no good? He stroked his tired face and lit the rusty old lantern on the counter. Only one way to know.

     

    “Xuth. Xuth. Xuth. My fingers, my poor fingers!” The man exclaimed as he barged in, prompting the brewer to close the door behind him.

     

    Brill recognized the man, it was the Argonian he had hired earlier that day. The one he sent to deal with the bandits. Why was he back so soon?

     

    “The proof of their demise is outside, just give me a minute and I’ll get it for you.” The lizard declared as he grabbed for his pouch and painfully undid the knots holding it shut. He forced a smile. “Frozen fingers can’t open these, you see?”

     

    Brill nodded and watched as the Argonian colossus picked a small blue phial from his leather pouch, gave it an ugly look like a lad who just discovered his bride to be was a goat, and drank its contents. Much to his dismay. At least, Brill thought those were curses. The Argonian tongue was strange, to a Nord like him it all sounded like curses. But, knowing the lizard’s reputation, He was probably right anyway.

     

    “Can you help me open the doors?” The lizard looked up at the Nord, “My mule is still outside. It can withstand this kind of cold far better than I but I don’t want to take the risk.”

     

    “Of course,” Brill uttered. Hastily reaching for the closed door. There may not have been any snow yet but regardless of that: it was generally a bad idea to stay outside at this hour.

     

    The poor mule charged in even faster than its master, two bodies piled onto its back. The evidence.

     

    “Thank you.” The Lizard replied before stroking the head of his mule and taking of its reins. “He won’t wander off, not now that he is somewhere warmer at least.” The Argonian reassured him with a smile.

     

    “Could we stay here for the night?” The lizard asked with a grin, “I would probably lose my tail outside.”

     

    “Ha, that would be a shame. I don’t have any spare beds, or even any straw but sure, you can stay.” Brill looked at the lizard’s tail and to his surprise found a strange knife attached to It through a set of leather laces, like the blade of an axe.

     

    “Yeah, the strap is shoddy craftsman work, I lost mine in Markarth earlier this year, didn’t have the time to properly replace it.” The Argonian explained as he noticed Brill’s lingering stare.

     

    “What is it?”

     

    “A weapon, of Argonian design.” The lizard smiled, “I once came across some Khajits who attached trinkets to their tails and use them like flogs. It’s the same idea, but with an axe.”

     

    The Nord approached the lantern to the lizard and had a better look at this tail axe. He expected it to glisten like steel but this looked more like it was made out of some type of tusk. It could also be a claw, it was shaped in a similar fashion but it had been sharpened, dented to rip through flesh and adding to his surprise: it had been beautifully carved.

     

    “Before you continue looking at me like that, mind if I introduce myself. I don’t think we took the time earlier.” The Argonian smiled as he patted the side of his mule. “I’m Teineeva, but I go by Likes-to-win in your tongue.” The mule blew in response. “Oh and this grump is Big Toe.”

     

    “Likes-to-Win eh? I’m Brill.” He replied. “Mind if I ask what your tail blade is made from? It’s not metal.”

     

    “Yeah, as I said it’s of Argonian design, but I had it made by a Bosmer. She was but a mere apprentice weaponsmith, but I’m quite attached to it.”

     

    “It looks both beautiful and threatening; makes me glad I’m the one who hired you and not one of these poor idiots.” Brill pointed at the cadavers. “Once I pay you, what are you going to do with them?”

     

    “I usually drop them off in town, let Arkay take care of them.” The Argonian laughed, it was a strange sound. “Seems rude to just drop them off on your porch.”

     

    Brill had heard Argonians laugh before, but in Skyrim there had never been a good thing to compare it to. At least not until the dragons appeared, but those didn’t tend to laugh all that much from what he gathered. But what did he know? He was just a brewer.

     

    “Thank you, much appreciated.” The Nord laughed and slapped the Argonian on his back. A shimmer of starlight from one of the cracks in the roof reflected upon Teineeva’s scales, bringing Asbjorn back into the moment. Remembering him how much pain he had felt moments earlier as he was forced to leave his bed. “Anyway, I need to get back to bed. Your money is on the counter. I hope you manage to get some sleep in, must have been a rough night out there.”

     

    “Don’t get your hopes up. Not that it’s a problem: I barely sleep anyway.”


    Brill nodded, bid the Argonian good night and walked back up the stairs. What a strange man, that “Likes-to-Win”, he thought as he crawled back under his woollen covers. Nothing like he had expected when he met him earlier that day.

    “You know, maybe we shouldn’t have tried to trick the lizard,” Beir said as he and a handful of other guards finished up the much needed repairs to the front gate. He wiped the sweat off of his brow and turned to Aalf, expecting a response. Instead Aalf only shrugged and continued to hammer away. Aalf wasn’t very talkative. At least not until you got a few bottles of mead in him.

     

    Beir turned back to his work, no use talking to a sober Aalf. Especially one that is blaming you for his current situation. If they hadn’t fed him drunk, he wouldn’t have participated in their little joke. At least that was what it was meant to be; a little joke. The lizard, the archivist they called him, had a reputation for not refusing bets. And in their drunken stupor they had hoped to make a profit off of him.

     

    And now here they were, Aalf, Orrin, Hilde and himself, repairing the gate in the bitter cold, cowering in anticipation of the next task the captain had bestowed upon them after the jarl learnt they were partly to blame for the incident; ditch cleaning duty. He rubbed his nose to stop an itch. The lack of snow was treacherous, during most winters a lack of snow meant it was going to be warm that year. But the ice-cold breeze that swept over the tundra was the herald of something entirely different, a cold at best, an epidemic in the worst case scenario. Nords could withstand a lot but the cold still made them more vulnerable to disease. He sniffed.

     

    He stared at the rising sun, hoping it’s glare would soon warm up the cold nails and wood he had to work with.

     

    It had been a month since the mammoth incident, but they were still working on the shattered gate. It had taken the jarl a week to discover who were to blame for the whole affair, apart from the lizard of course, and then it had taken them two weeks to fix up the guards’ barracks. The bloody Argonian had driven the crazed mammoth straight into it, killing the beast in the process.

     

    “Hey guys,” Hilde exclaimed, “Am I just seeing things from the cold or is that him?”

     

    Within a second the other three guards were looking down onto the road as well. And yes, she was right, there he was. Teineeva and his steed; Big Toe. What a ridiculous name for a ridiculous animal. Seriously what self-respecting warrior rode into battle atop a mule? Big Toe was but a fucking bastard between a farmer’s mare and a pilgrim’s ass, nothing compared to the beauty that was currently stabled down there as well. Queen Alsfigr, now that was a horse. The new Harbringer’s horse for that matter. Beir could still remember the look on the elfs face as he brought the final payment down from Jorvaskr to the stables. Lucky bastard.

     

    That being said, Beir respected the elf. While this nutjob of a lizard had been driving mammoths through their gate, the dragonborn was leading a massive alliance in battle against an old vampire clan bent on blotting out the sun. He almost wished he could have been there, some of the others couldn’t keep their mouths shut about how strong and kind the elf was. What an experience it would have been to fight alongside such a man.
    Now that Big Toe and his master grew closer the guards noticed the two bodies on its back, a Nord and an orc woman. Most likely a couple of bandits; it wasn’t the first time Teineeva was in town, far from it even. This time, things were different though, this time there was a bounty on his head. How’s that for a change, Beir gloated.


    “By the roots, guys, just let me in!” The Argonian hissed at the two guardsmen blocking his path. Bloody ingrates, he had cleaned out their precious plains, hunted the local giant population to near extinction; and absolutely free of costs, which was a very odd thing in his profession. Yet now they wouldn’t let him in because of that tiny little incident. “I haven’t slept all night and I really would love to have myself some shut-eye!”

     

    “We’ re sorry Teineeva. We owe you, we really do, but there’s a bounty on your head. You should be glad we don’t outright arrest you.” One said.

     

    “Scram lizard!” The other added.

     

    Their little confrontation had started to attract some attention. A small group of Pilgrims that were working their way up to the gates had already stopped and turned around to look at what happened. And from the corner of his eye Teineeva could spot the stable hand looking around the corner. He smiled and continued. Let’s make a spectacle now shall we?

     

    “How in Oblivion do you want me to clear that bounty if you don’t let me into the city?!”

     

    “Don’t care, just scram,” the impolite one continued, “You have caused enough trouble here.”

     

    “It was one mammoth, just one, seriously what’s the big deal?” Teineeva argued, his tail violently slamming into the ground. These idiots should try getting those knots out of their tails, it was a joke, and one they started. Everyone knew he couldn’t deny a good bet. And it had been a good bet.

     

    The guards had pooled together a considerable sum one late night at the Bannered mare, and had agreed upon the bet; If he was capable of getting a giant to fit through the Whiterun gates they would pay him a good thousand septims. Of course after his last bet with one of the other goldpact knights there were no giants to be found near Whiterun. Mammoths on the other hand…

     

    “The big deal?! You driving a crazed mammoth down the streets, that’s the big deal!” The friendly one exclaimed. Well so much for that title. Stupid Nords!

     

    “If you guys had just paid up, I would have gotten rid of it for you, you sore losers!” he spat, turned his heels and walked away. Angrily muttering: “You know what, go bloody tusk yourselves! Or each other, what do I care!” He had spent way too much time with the boss and that kid of his lately, drinking with Durak all the time didn’t help either. Bloody orcs.

     

    “You know what, lizard we’ve had enough of you, you’re coming with us.” One of the guards declared, insulted, before the other tackled him to the ground.

     

    “Really? You band of idiots! What happened to “We owe you Teineeva”?” He roared as he wrestled against the guards desperately trying to tie his hands behind his back.


    “You happened. You stupid lizard!” he heard, as an in mail and fur wrapped hand punched him unconscious. At least he would get into town.


    The dingy smell of unwashed redguard and booze made it’s way into his nostrils. They had given him Brenuin’s cell again, hadn’t they? Well up theirs too.

     

    Teineeva rose up from the mold and flee ridden cot they had left him on. He didn’t care about the flees, they couldn’t get through his scales anyway. What bothered him more was the large bell that rang between his ears. That punch was going to leave a bruise. Xuth. Once the concert calmed down, he tried to stretch; his arms felt weak, his legs like vines and his chest like he had been bit by a bloody Wamasu. “Teineeva, we owe you” his scaly ass, yeah they owed him alright! Two bruised ribs. He could feel the imprint of a boot in his side. Stupid Nords and their sense of superiority, they weren’t much better than those bloody thalmor. Kicking a downed man in the ribs just for the fun of it.

     

    But they had it coming, if the past had proven anything it was that despite their generally forgiving attitude towards each other, the Saxhleel could hold grudges like the best of Orsimer when the other races were concerned. That said, the An-Xileel would never push this far north. No use in freezing your tails off over some stupid Nords.

     

    Hell, sometimes he wondered what he was doing here himself. Well you’re a bounty hunter of course, he would say. But a bounty hunter could find work anywhere, he didn’t have to freeze his tail off in a country full of ungrateful cousins of whatever would happen if you would cross an Imga and a bear. Yet, here he was.

     

    Ah, it had been a while since he saw an Imga. After he had left Argonia, he had spent a few years in Elsweyr and Valenwood. The Thalmor were a pain in the behind but they generally didn’t have any problems with Argonian exiles. There was that time where he had insulted a pasha, thinking she was a housecat… Ah the good old times, when people didn’t throw you in jail for winning bets.

     

    As he made peace with the crushing pain in his chest, he was surprised by a rather disappointed looking prison guard.

     

    “Your fine has been paid, you’re free to go.” He sighed, like a kid you had ordered to sweep his room before he could go out to play.

     

    “Who? Who would be stupid enough to pay my bail?” Teineeva inquired.

     

    “Merotim” The guard replied.

     

    “Ah in that case, let’s get out of this dung hole,” Teineeva jumped up from his cot only to growl and crumble onto the floor in pain, to the guard’s amusement. Showered in the laughter of yet another arsehole of a Nord, he made his way up and clung to the bars of the door for support.

     

    “Well, are you getting a move on or not?” He asked. The guard stopped laughing and took out his keys. Sighing as he turned the keys in the rusty old lock. But for Teineeva it couldn’t come quick enough as he saw one of the other prisoners, across the hall, close up to the gate to start the usual racist jokes.

     

    “Hey, you! Lizard!” And there we go…

     

    “I heard ya wackjobs worship trees down in your dingy swamps, what kind of moronic nutjob worships trees? Trees exist to be pissed on, and nothing else. You know what? I’ll piss on you!”

     

    The idiot then followed up by undoing his trousers, showing off that disgusting little tube he probably called a member, and pissing all over the floor. Great. And of course the guard had to make sure to push Teineeva through the puddle. He could feel the malice beneath the helmet. Teineeva held his mouth shut, or at least tried really hard to. There was no use in getting pissed at some mead-filled idiot who couldn’t hold his booze, literally and figuratively in this case. The thought made Teineeva smile, to the displeasure of the scrawny Nord.

     

    “Hey, what are you laughing about you bloody lizard! Do you like it when I piss at ya?”

     

    “No it’s not that, it’s just the myriad of pilgrims gathering around the bloody tree in the middle of town, what do you think they’re doing there?” He roared in response.

     

    At this point the prisoner’s maw shut close and apparently the hilarity of his situation became clear to even his inebriated brain. Better yet, the guard laughed. See, you do like me. You stupid guards are always game when it’s fun and jokes but man do you bastards love punching anything that doesn’t look as ugly as you.

     

    The guard now lead him into a small room at the other end of the hallway. He had been there before, it was the official back entrance to the prison, where they would lead all the drunks and Argonian mercs they beat down through. Taking the other entrance meant you had stature as it went straight through the Jarl’s palace; of course they didn’t want the jarl to be inconvenienced by drunkards. Of course the Jarl went to the bannered mare as often than Brenuin.

     

    Since Äelberon became Harbringer, the Whiterun prison had been reduced to a drunktank. And he wasn’t just speaking of the prisoners. The guards liked their mead just as well.

     

    “Well if it isn’t the fucker who just cost me another goddamn pile of septims!” Decimus roared as he saw Teineeva and his escort walk in.

     

    “Hey Boss, how have you been?” Teineeva smiled nonchalantly. He knew his boss way too well to be afraid of repercussions.

     

    “Well my ear has been fucking hurting like oblivion, and I have this guy working for me who keeps getting into trouble because of his bloody gambling addiction who I have to bail out at every chance he gets.”

     

    “It’s not gambling, and I’m not addicted. Gambling involves luck and chance, I don’t gamble. I bet, which means there is a set possibility I win. And let’s be honest old fart, I tend to win.” Decimus rolled his eyes at the excuse, it wasn’t the first time he had heard it.

     

    “Anyway, why did you bail me out this time? You know I can’t afford to pay you back right now.” The Lizard hissed. Constantly looking at the pile of gear that had been carelessly stacked in a heap in the corner of the room. His gear.

     

    He didn’t like to be separated from his bow.

     

    “We’ll get to that on our way to the stables. In the meantime, could you please explain to me how in oblivion you got yourself imprisoned again, you scaly fuck?” The imperial commanded.

     

    Teineeva opened his mouth but was quickly cut short by the guard attending the bounty register.

     

    “He has been charged of insulting the whiterun guard, aggravated disturbance of the public order, hindrance of the law and … Uhm… Loitering.”

     

    Decimus roared in laughter, “So you have just been your fucking self haven’t you?”

     

    Teineeva shrugged his shoulders, could they get it over with? Naga needed attending. But it seemed the goldpact knight in front of him didn’t seem to care as much. Whoever it was it meant the target was mostly immobile, that meant it was either very dangerous or very cocky. And if they had been involved, probably the first.

     

    “Get your gear lizard, we’re getting out of here.”

     

    “Oh by the Hist, it was about time.” Teineeva turned to the guard and hinted at his wrists; “What about these?”

     

    “Oh you can keep those. See it as a farewell gift, although we do hope to see you soon.” The guard laughed. The bastards weren’t much better than bandits. Teineeva thought as he spat at his feet and hissed: “Hurry up,” as he extended his arms.

     

    The guard at the register nodded, and his colleague proceeded to undo the lizard’s cuffs.

     

    Teineeva immediately went for Naga; his bow. The bow itself was made out of wood he had managed to obtain from the forests of Valenwood, now that was a story. He grinned. The tusks of an elephant from Elsweyr, or at least parts of it, had been attached around the handle, one above and one beneath and had been engraved with the stories of different hunts he had participated in during his stay in the dominion. Some of his finer work however were the shards of malachite he had inserted into the ivory with depassa gum, just like the Tsojei from his homeland. The string on it was newer though, made out of the hair of the local giants, just another addition to mark his travels. The bow had been with him for as long as he cared to remember. And if it was his choice they were never to be separated. He would make the guards pay for this insolence, eventually.

     

    “Well if you could stop hugging that piece of wood of yours, I have a job for you!” Decimus’ voice commanded, to which the Argonian hissed in response. Naga wasn’t a mere piece of wood; she was an extension of his soul.

     

    “At this time of the year? What’s so important that you need me old fart?” The lizard continued, “I would much rather spend the rest of the winter in the fort, as you should know by now.”

     

    “Let’s just say that this contract is quite juicy, so juicy in fact that even you will have difficulties refusing it.” The Imperial grinned painfully. Maybe the lizard would succeed where he had failed; in killing his nephew’s other uncle.

     

    After he gathered his gear. The imperial lead Teineeva outside and explained his current situation as they looped back to the front of the palace.

     

    “Normally I would be doing this contract myself but the lads and I have been hired to procure a dwemer artefact in the Reach. I can’t let them go alone, and the goldpact can’t allow to let this contract pass…”

     

    “So, that is where I come in.” The lizard interrupted Decimus. “Am I to understand that we’re not the first to hunt this guy?”

     

    “Far from it, the whole fucking road from Solitude to Riften is littered with the bodies of our former competitors.” Merotim stopped as they reached the stairs leading down into the rest of town. He hoped to gauge Teineeva’s reaction to the news, but as always when they discussed work the lizard would default back into this emotionless state so characteristic for his race.

     

    “So we’re the last step before they hire a bleak walker for the job and decide to call the ensuing massacre collateral damage.”

     

    Decimus nodded.

     

    “Well, who is it I’m chasing then?” the lizard continued impatient. Whoever it was, he just wanted to be done with it before the snowfall would close the pass to the fort.

     

    “Did you hear about the massacre in Solitude?” Decimus inquired before continuing towards the mead hall.

     

    “Who hasn’t? It has been what? Two months? I can’t believe no one got to the psycho yet. Regardless it shouldn’t be too hard, what’s the pay?”

     

    The closer they came to Jorvaskr the more Teineeva’s mask fell apart, he revealed his teeth and he started hissing ever so slightly. Decimus didn’t know why the Argonian had suddenly grown to hate Ronnie over the last few months but he better get over it. They would be working together quite a lot in the future, whether the lizard wanted it or not.

     

    “They are ready to pay you seven thousand septims.” The imperial announced, unsurprisingly Teineeva’s jaw nearly hit the ground.

     

    “I could buy a house in town for that kind of money, who the hell will I be dealing with here?” Teineeva replied, gathering himself back together. That was one huge price to put on the head of a member of the dark brotherhood. No matter who it was.

     

    Decimus took a breath and replied: “It’s Lorbulg, Lorbulg Gro-Largash.”

     

Comments

21 Comments   |   The Long-Chapper and 7 others like this.
  • The Wing
    The Wing   ·  September 12, 2017
    Holy shit, I'm famous. :D I and  Ä elberon were seriously the only ones to escape alive?! This rancid winged scamp is pleased to be unhelpful.  <:o) Also, I'm interested to read that he's a bounty-hunter and was apparently paid to kill at lea...  more
    • Teineeva
      Teineeva
      The Wing
      The Wing
      The Wing
      Holy shit, I'm famous. :D I and  Ä elberon were seriously the only ones to escape alive?! This rancid winged scamp is pleased to be unhelpful.  <:o) Also, I'm interested to read that he's a bounty-hunter and was apparently paid to kill at lea...  more
        ·  September 12, 2017
      Teineeva has a very impressive list of kills. Apart from Straag Rod Sotek, you may have also noticed Liss and Karve on that list. I had a lot of fun making that image.


      I'm glad you liked the chapter, it was a lot of fun to work on des...  more
      • The Wing
        The Wing
        Teineeva
        Teineeva
        Teineeva
        Teineeva has a very impressive list of kills. Apart from Straag Rod Sotek, you may have also noticed Liss and Karve on that list. I had a lot of fun making that image.


        I'm glad you liked the chapter, it was a lot of fun to work on despite all the issue...  more
          ·  September 12, 2017
        Of course I noticed them, I noticed all of the Vault-dwellers on that list! XD Impressive list of kills indeed, and an impressive set of skills! And apparently portals to Earth! No one is safe! :-O


        There ain't nothing wrong with crash...  more
        • The Long-Chapper
          The Long-Chapper
          The Wing
          The Wing
          The Wing
          Of course I noticed them, I noticed all of the Vault-dwellers on that list! XD Impressive list of kills indeed, and an impressive set of skills! And apparently portals to Earth! No one is safe! :-O


          There ain't nothing wrong with crashing mammoths into ...  more
            ·  September 12, 2017
          I didn't say there was anything wrong with it, Wing. 
          • The Wing
            The Wing
            The Long-Chapper
            The Long-Chapper
            The Long-Chapper
            I didn't say there was anything wrong with it, Wing. 
              ·  September 12, 2017
            Except continuity. :P Like I said, any day of the week...! :D


            ... Never mind.
      • The Long-Chapper
        The Long-Chapper
        Teineeva
        Teineeva
        Teineeva
        Teineeva has a very impressive list of kills. Apart from Straag Rod Sotek, you may have also noticed Liss and Karve on that list. I had a lot of fun making that image.


        I'm glad you liked the chapter, it was a lot of fun to work on despite all the issue...  more
          ·  September 12, 2017
        Dude, I was totally fine with the mammoth thing. I thought it was funny, remember? You just needed to get the timing right on it. There were a whole world of events going on at the same time. You had to make sure a certain fat arse with pale skin wouldn't...  more
        • Teineeva
          Teineeva
          The Long-Chapper
          The Long-Chapper
          The Long-Chapper
          Dude, I was totally fine with the mammoth thing. I thought it was funny, remember? You just needed to get the timing right on it. There were a whole world of events going on at the same time. You had to make sure a certain fat arse with pale skin wouldn't...  more
            ·  September 12, 2017
          Sorry, Liss, that was indeed the issue. Something about destroying the gate twice in just as many months or something. My memory isn't always great, which is why I'm not the Daedric prince of Continuity and Details. Anyway thanks again for making sure eve...  more
          • The Long-Chapper
            The Long-Chapper
            Teineeva
            Teineeva
            Teineeva
            Sorry, Liss, that was indeed the issue. Something about destroying the gate twice in just as many months or something. My memory isn't always great, which is why I'm not the Daedric prince of Continuity and Details. Anyway thanks again for making sure eve...  more
              ·  September 12, 2017
            That's better. :P
  • Karver the Lorc
    Karver the Lorc   ·  September 11, 2017
    Still laughing like an idiot after reading the Codex at the beginning :D It's as good as the first time. This ought to be continued, Tein! God damnit! Continue! 
  • Sotek
    Sotek   ·  December 28, 2016
    The title pic....
    I'm.... I'm........ You know that feeling when your hearts torn out of your chest and you are made to watch as 'the bitch' crushes it under her boot?


    I have to agree with Karver here. The effort and amount of ...  more
    • Teineeva
      Teineeva
      Sotek
      Sotek
      Sotek
      The title pic....
      I'm.... I'm........ You know that feeling when your hearts torn out of your chest and you are made to watch as 'the bitch' crushes it under her boot?

      ...  more
        ·  December 28, 2016
      Yeah... sorry about that one Sotek, after I read through it I was afraid it might be a tad harsh. But hey, you'll live right? :)


      I believe I've mentioned it down here already but I'll repeat it nonetheless. Sotek your texts certainly...  more
  • NoOneIsHear
    NoOneIsHear   ·  December 12, 2016
    That image at the top. :D


    I love this, tail axes,  Grulmarina the lizard tusking Greenskin, driving a mamoth into W hiterun. I cant wait to see where this goes or what you come up with next
  • A-Pocky-Hah!
    A-Pocky-Hah!   ·  December 12, 2016
    Another writer joins the Straag Rod Expanded Universe! <:o)

    So this is the fabled "Ledger Codex" I've been hearing about from a certain Orc...


    Every character added into this universe is always interesting and Teineev...  more
    • Teineeva
      Teineeva
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      Another writer joins the Straag Rod Expanded Universe! <:o)

      So this is the fabled "Ledger Codex" I've been hearing about from a certain Orc...
      ...  more
        ·  December 12, 2016
      Thanks for the compliment. That image was a great amount of fun to make; and Liss, Sotek and Karve are just a few of the puns in there. As to Teineeva being an accountant of death, while it hasn't come up yet: he's known to most criminal circles as: "The ...  more
  • Karver the Lorc
    Karver the Lorc   ·  December 12, 2016
          "Karver of Lorc: This crazy a-hole claimed to be an Orc princess. Someone should pay me for getting rid of these idiots." Whaaaaaaaaaat? :D :D :D
         
         &nbs...  more
    • Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
            "Karver of Lorc: This crazy a-hole claimed to be an Orc princess. Someone should pay me for getting rid of these idiots." Whaaaaaaaaaat? :D :D :D
           
             I really ...  more
        ·  December 12, 2016
                  Overally, I have to say that I
      absolutely love the way you portray Teineeva as an Argonian. One of the
      best Argonians around. Movements, manners, body language, even thoughts...  more
      • Teineeva
        Teineeva
        Karver the Lorc
        Karver the Lorc
        Karver the Lorc
                    Overally, I have to say that I
        absolutely love the way you portray Teineeva as an Argonian. One of the
        best Argonians around. Movements, manners, body language, even thoughts, smells. He...  more
          ·  December 12, 2016
        Well I certainly tried to do exactly that. Despite the fact that's it not all too lore friendly I learned quite a bit from how Sotek deals with the emotions for his protagonist. I specifically share his opinion that the Argonians should use their tail; I ...  more
      • The Long-Chapper
        The Long-Chapper
        Karver the Lorc
        Karver the Lorc
        Karver the Lorc
                    Overally, I have to say that I
        absolutely love the way you portray Teineeva as an Argonian. One of the
        best Argonians around. Movements, manners, body language, even thoughts, smells. He...  more
          ·  December 12, 2016
        And I am fooooking wondering who put a Goldpact contract on Sir Shiny the Saint? Yeah, I'm very excited to read Teineeva. Very cool character and Big Toe is an easy favorite. 
        • Teineeva
          Teineeva
          The Long-Chapper
          The Long-Chapper
          The Long-Chapper
          And I am fooooking wondering who put a Goldpact contract on Sir Shiny the Saint? Yeah, I'm very excited to read Teineeva. Very cool character and Big Toe is an easy favorite. 
            ·  December 12, 2016
          Well, obviously that was someone who didn't think of Sir Shiny as a Saint. There have to people like that around. Hell Teineeva's one of them.


          As to Big Toe... he's inspired by my Baudet du Poitou: Victoire, and my Croix de Saint And...  more
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  December 12, 2016
    And I love the first image. I died laughing. It's epic. It's sooooooo Teineeva. 
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  December 12, 2016
    What a great start, Teineeva. Really happy to see this up and posted.