PoTM: Chapter 24, Of Orcs and Women

  • Always take care when dealing with women.

    They see things we do not.

    A smile. A glance. They mean nothing to us, everything to them.

    They twist their smiles to meet our own.

    They avert a gaze just so. Watch them closely.

    They rule the world; they just don't know it.


    8th of Morning Star, 4E 204


    Mogrul touched his ribs and hissed in response to the pain. He felt a cold sweat break on his forehead and his head was starting to spin. The Dunmer girl did a number on him, same with Slitter. They were nothing against her, like children trying to fight a kagouti with bare hand. She was fast, that he was capable of understanding, but that strength...that had to come from enchantments, powerful ones no doubt. He would figure that out soon, but first...


    He leaned against the door to his house and looked over his shoulder at Sapphire. She stared back at him without flinching, question in her eyes and he resisted the urge to shake his head. She wanted to leave him to the dragon, along with the other people. And now she just stared at him, with no remorse at all. She did swear she'll kill you one day after all, didn't she?


    He opened the door and walked in, Sapphire following. She closed the door and he suddenly turned, his hand going for her throat.


    She stepped aside, her right hand hitting the inner side of his elbow, her left hand grabbing the back of his skull. She pushed and he found himself stumbling past her, tripping over her extended leg. Everything turned black as he hit the door with his forehead and it took several seconds until he was able to push the blackness away.


    He found himself lying on the floor, something hot pouring between his eyes and he shook his head. Which wasn't a very good idea because it nearly made him pass out again. The Nord girl was crouching in front of him, head tilted.


    “Really?” she asked with an unreadable mask instead of her face. “Broken ribs and you try this?”


    “Nobody screws me over,” he replied, forcing himself to sit. He leaned against the door and his hand involuntarily reached for the wound on his head. It was small, just split skin, but it still hurt like Oblivion. “You left me to die.”


    “Did I?” she asked, shaking her head. “If I wanted you dead, you'd already be dead, Orc. I said I will kill you one day, but I can assure you, it's not today.”


    He narrowed his eyes, not really understanding. Why would she want to wait? She had the chance outside. She had the chance seconds ago. She could do it just now and he wouldn't be able to stop her. “Why won't you do it then?”


    Sapphire leaned closer and bit her lip. “Because I want to see you fall first,” she stated with a shrug. “I want everything to be taken from you first. I want you to suffer first. I want you to reach a point when you will want to die. I want you to fall and be forgotten. And when you do...I will come for you. And nobody will hear you scream.” She then shrugged again. “Until then, I can just as well work for you. Stay close, enjoy the show from the first row.”


    A cold statement, with lot of suppressed hate behind it. It would probably make lot of men piss ice cubes. But Mogrul only chuckled. “I love it,” he said between the laughter and gasps of pain when the ribs reminded him that laughing wasn't such a good idea. “I just fucking love it, girl. The biggest damn balls I have ever seen, heh.” He slowly shook his head. “Maybe I really should kill you first.”


    “You could try,” she responded in an unphased manner.


    “I could,” he murmured and extended his arm, motioning for her to help him up. She grabbed his forearm and with all her strength pulled him back on his feet. During that their bodies came so close, he could feel her breasts against his chest and his other hand grabbed her arse. “Or maybe not,” he grinned at Sapphire, the tip of his tongue finding the sore spot of the missing tusk. “You're a pretty girl. You could live like a queen here, you know. No dirty work and such. All you have to do is get on your knees and put that mouth to good use.”


    She clenched her jaws and grimaced, her expression clearly showing disgust. “Live like a queen, eh? A queen on her knees with a dick in her mouth.” She flashed a smile that sent Mogrul's head into a spin. Such a sensual smile, full of dark promises. She leaned closer and whispered to his ear: “I have a better idea. Why don't you magically elongate your dick, stuff it in your arse, and go fuck yourself?!”


    She then freed herself from his grasp and pushed him away. “Ha! That dirty mouth of yours,” he shook his head with a smirk. “The offer still stands if you change your mind. Now help me downstairs.” Yes, he liked her. She was a stone cold bitch that wanted to kill him and if he could take a guess, that was why he liked her so much.


    Sapphire put up her hands and snorted. “Do it yourself.”


    “Careful. You're on a thin ice now,” he grumbled with exasperation. “Want me to break a neck on those stairs?”


    “See this face?” she pointed at herself, at her unreadable expression. “That's my worried look.” She snorted and headed downstairs without him.


    Mogrul gritted his teeth and started picking his way down, as slowly as he could. Wasn't doing his ribs any good. Stupid stairs.


    When he reached the bottom he noticed a body on the floor, right in the middle of hallway, with Slitter leaning against a wall, just turning a vial with red liquid upside down. The Dunmer girl on the floor was pale and to Mogrul she looked dead, her whole forearm black and crumpled from the severe frostbite. Sapphire was standing above her, a frown on her face.


    “She was with the old mer,” the Nord stated. “Why is she here?”


    “Tried to kill us,” Slitter murmured, his eyes swimming. The idiot most likely got himself overdosed on healing potions. “The old bastard is in pieces now. Hehehe. Resht in pieshesh, moron-”


    Mogrul knocked the vial out of Slitter's hand and kicked the Dunmer’s leg. “Stupid piece of shit!” he growled. “Do you think I wanted a blasted dead body in my house? I want that bitch alive! You better hope you haven't drunk all the potions!”


    “We need to remove the hand if you want her to live,” Sapphire said. “Otherwise her blood can get poisoned. And we have to do it now!”


    “Find something sharp then!” Mogrul barked while he headed to the pantry, quickly going through the shelves with vials. There were the regular painkilling healing potions and then the ones inducing a regenerative sleep. He quickly poured a painkilling one down his throat and then went back to the hallway with four other vials.


    He could almost immediately feel his body go numb, the pain going away. It was making him tired, so tired he just wanted to lay down next to the Dunmer and sleep, but he had to make sure the bitch would stay among the living first. He wanted her to live so that he could make her life a living Oblivion. Nobody screws him over and gets away with it and death meant...getting away with it.


    Sapphire returned with a big cleaver normally used for chopping meat and Mogrul had to admit that that thing would suffice. He held the Dunmer's nose, opened her mouth and poured the regeneration potion, closely followed by the painkilling one, down her throat.


    Sapphire ripped the sleeve, revealing black tissue all the way up to the Dunmer's elbow, a map of black veils even reaching above the elbow. “Why don't you just put her out of her misery?” Sapphire wondered and Mogrul just growled in response. “I'll have to cut her arm off above elbow, preferably right under shoulder. That's no way to live.”


    “Good,” Mogrul nodded with satisfaction. He hoped the bitch would suffer. “Just do it.” Sapphire shrugged and without hesitation started hacking. Blood sprayed all over her face and for a moment she looked like some kind of goddess of death, all covered in blood and ash.


    It was turning Mogrul on.

    They managed to stabilize the girl's condition, the stockpile of healing potions an enormous help. Afterwards, they locked her up in the study with Slitter ordered to guard her - as much as he could in his overdosed state. Sapphire saw a guard walk in and then out in the meantime, and she could only guess what the Orc was planning now. But if she had to take a guess...well, it had to do something with the Dragonborn. What was he hoping to achieve? Kill him in an open duel or something like that?


    Nah, she shook her head. Mogrul wasn't that stupid. But he was stubborn and there were other ways to take care of someone much more powerful than your local loan-shark. No one could have eyes everywhere at the same time and even an idiot could get a lucky shot at Dragonborn, catching him unprepared. No one was truly invincible, one just had to be smart to get through the gaps in their seemingly invincible armor.


    And Mogrul was ‘cooking’ something.


    Sapphire was pondering on whose side she actually wanted to stand. The Altmer was the Dragonborn after all. She had no idea why he was on Solstheim, but  Skyrim was still crawling with dragons as far as she knew. And Alduin. Before she left Skyrim, there was a talk that resulted in a ceasefire between the Empire and the Stormcloaks so the Dragonborn could deal with Alduin. A talk that the Dragonborn himself had arranged, from what she heard, but if the Dragonborn was on Solstheim…


    She shrugged, realising it was completely pointless to think about those things now. If Mogrul was planning something against the Dragonborn she knew she wouldn’t participate in that. If she had a chance, she would at least try to warn the Altmer, but that would be all he would get from her. She wasn't prepared to go directly against Mogrul yet, so yeah. She would play it safe, ensuring her own survival first, other problems coming second.


    Mogrul was heading to the Retching Netch, walking sort of stiffly and yet at the same time having problems walking straight. Those were the painkilling potions, they were getting into his head, numbing and slowing everything down. She wasn't sure if she was looking forward to seeing that Orc drunk. Sort of.


    There was a guard standing in front of the Retching Netch's entrance, breathing into his hands to chase away the cold. He had his helmet on, so she couldn't say if she met him before or no, but Mogrul stopped next to him and frowned.


    “Araleth?” the Orc murmured and the guard nodded. Mogrul leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Did you do it?”


    “Yes, sera,” the guard murmured nervously. “Bought him a round of milk and-”


    “Milk?” Mogrul interrupted him with a surprised chuckle. “A milk-drinking dragonslayer. Alright, now I've seen it all. Did he drink it?”


    “Yes, he did. I'm just worried-”


    The Orc patted the guard on the shoulder and grinned. “Don't think, lad, you might hurt yourself.” Ha gave the guard a pouch heavy with gold and grinned. “You did good, take a day off. Don't spend it all at once. Now get going.”


    Sapphire watched the guard head back to barracks with a frown. Milk. Drink. She gave Mogrul a cold stare. You poisoned him, didn't you? You bloody treacherous bastard! If that Altmer falls down with foam dripping from his mouth right in the middle of the inn...you're screwed, Mogrul. He couldn’t be that stupid, no. It had to be a slower poison, something that would kick in later, when the Altmer was alone.


    She was trying to keep her face straight and unreadable when Mogrul looked at her, giving her a curious look and then he just snorted, walking into the Retching Netch. She just shook her head and followed him.


    As soon as they entered, they were greeted by loud shouting, laughter and the sounds of mugs and tankards clashing together. The smell of food and alcohol. And there was music playing, a song. Sung by a male, but whoever it was, he wasn’t being serious because he was chuckling his way through it. It wasn't exactly what Sapphire expected. Well, she wasn't actually sure what to expect. Dunmer always seemed more stoic than Nords and yet it seemed that they could celebrate that they survived just as well as Nords could.


    They didn’t notice her and Mogrul walking in.


    Mogrul began pushing his way through the ruckus, towards the singing and the shouting at the other side of the room. Towards a table where the Dragonborn was sitting, and Sapphire blinked. He - the Altmer - was the one doing the singing, reclined on a chair, the Nord woman seated on his lap, doing her best to distract him while he held her, and he was clearly enjoying every moment of it, which made him fumble the words, which, in turn, made the Dunmer laugh all the harder. Half-eaten food, sweets, and a nearly spent pipe were on the table and both were stripped of their amor, relaxing. The song was in a language Sapphire didn't understand - most likely Dunmeris - but she knew the rhythm. It sounded like one of those rowdy tavern songs and all the Dunmer were laughing and singing along here and there.


    She leaned against a pillar close to the table while the Orc stopped by the table, his shadow falling over the Altmer who looked at him and abruptly stopped singing. Everyone at the table was suddenly quiet. “Oh, what the Oblivion do you want now?” the Altmer groaned with annoyance. “Accuse me of another murder?” The Nord woman released a gust of air, her eyes drifting to a burn on the Altmer’s neck while she fiddled with the neck of his woolen shirt.


    The Dunmer around chuckled nervously, but it ended abruptly when Mogrul focused his gaze on them, his sight staying on each one of them long enough to avert their eyes. “Just wanted to congratulate the hero that saved the town,” the Orc grinned. “Our milk-drinking dragonslayer,” he added with a chuckle. “Maybe we could have a round of milk together, eh? It will be a night to remember. What do you say? Bottle of milk, somewhere in private? Gives us an opportunity to talk.”


    Gods, sometimes you really talk to much, Mogrul. Too much theatrics.


    “No,” the Altmer bluntly replied and Mogrul just raised his eyebrows when the Mer no longer acknowledged him and focused his attention back at the Nord woman. “Now where was I?” He purred, grinning at her.  


    “Oh, I think you don't get it. I insist,” Mogrul pressed.


    The red-orange eyes shifted back to Mogrul briefly, snapping with a primal fire, before they went back to the Nord woman. “I think I do get it. And I don’t care,” he replied, clenching his jaw. “If you want to talk, then talk here.”


    And what are you going to now, Orc? You can't boss this one around.


    Mogrul bared his tusks - well, only one tusk now - at the other people at the table and Sapphire narrowed her eyes. Here it comes.


    “Get out,” the Orc growled in a low threatening voice. “Every one of you piss-soaked shits, get out.”


    They just stared and Mogrul's face twisted into a scowl, his eyes growing cold. “Get out!” he shouted at them, tearing a chair from under one of the patrons. “Everyone out!” he yelled and threw the chair against a wall. That got everyone's attention, save the Altmer, who was now deliberately ignoring Mogrul, preferring the Nord woman. “OUT!” he kept shouting and people quickly began running to the exit. The flail flew out and its head shattered another chair, sending the shower of splinters towards the counter. Even the innkeeper began retreating towards the stairs. “Get the fuck out!”


    Sapphire watched that tantrum with raised eyebrows and she noticed the Altmer's eyes finally looked at Mogrul. It was a hard stare, but he wasn’t flinching at the Orc’s display. “Renek kiir,” he muttered under his breath, though he responded by relaxing further into his chair, keeping the woman on his lap. She only chuckled and shook her head, giving his forehead a kiss.


    The cornerclub suddenly got quiet, interrupted only by Mogrul's loud breathing and fuming as his rage slowly subsided. He whirled around towards the Dragonborn and looked at the Nord woman. “You too!” he gritted his teeth.


    She folded her arms over her chest and Sapphire couldn't help herself but notice how it pushed her breasts up in that open rose shirt, making them even more prominent. A quick flick of the Dragonborn’s eyes gave away that he noticed too. “Make me,” she smirked, which earned a funny low chuckle from the Dragonborn. As if he knew something they didn’t. A secret.


    “You heard her, Mogrul. Make her,” challenged the Altmer.


    Sapphire pushed herself from the pillar and tilted her head to a side, getting the woman's attention. Mogrul was getting angry and Orcs weren't exactly known for doing rational things when angry. Sapphire certainly didn't want this to get out of hand.


    “They'll just be comparing dicks,” Sapphire said, pointing with her chin towards the stairs. “Come on, I'll buy you a drink.”


    Mogrul threw Sapphire a look, but she really didn't care. The Altmer grinned and faced his woman. “Go, love. Get your sujamma,” he said and finished it with a kiss. “I can handle meself at the sandbox,” he added with a wink. She slid off his lap and laughed when he playfully slapped her backside.


    “Just don't play with each other's toys,” the woman murmured, looking over her shoulder at the Altmer, and Sapphire couldn't help but chuckle at that. She's getting it. I already like her.


    “I only let one person play with me toys, love,” the mer sent her another sly wink.


    “Just get the fuck out already,” Mogrul grunted, sitting down on the opposite side of the table where the mer was sitting.


    Sapphire motioned the woman to go in front of her and as they were passing the counter, Sapphire grabbed a bottle of what looked like sujamma. The woman was already ascending the stairs and the young thief was behind her, her eyes set on the woman's boots. Soft Colovian leather of a brown shade - artisan made - almost reaching her knees and Sapphire's eyes then traveled higher. What damn fine scenery, she thought as she watched the woman's muscles tense under those tight leather pants, her hips swinging from one side to the other. Just damn…


    They reached the top of the stairs, and Sapphire leaned against the handrail, her eyes scanning the woman from her head to the tips of her toes. The black-haired Nord leaned against the handrail on the other side of the stairs, crossing her arms over her chest and Sapphire found herself staring at that cleavage again. They were not big, but they were decent. She noticed the woman was now looking at her with raised eyebrows, a sort of sly half-smile playing on her features. “Do you like what you see?” she asked, mischief twinkling in her emerald eyes.


    Sapphire cleared her throat and opened the bottle. “I do,” she shrugged and narrowed her eyes. “That a problem?” She found herself staring into those deep, deep green eyes, waiting for any kind of disgust or annoyance...but nothing like that. Just fires of mischief.


    “Not at all,” the woman smiled, her eyes widening a little during that, and Sapphire nearly drowned in them in that moment. “I'm Serana,” the woman added.


    “I'm charmed,” Sapphire flashed a weak smile, trying to hide her quickened breath. “But they call me Sapphire.”


    “I can see why,” Serana purred. She then pointed at the bottle in Sapphire's hand, opened but still full. “So what does a girl have to do to get a drink here?”


    The young thief looked at the bottle, only then realising she was still holding it. “Oh. Right,” she murmured, taking a proper swig. She then started coughing, her eyes watering. “Damn it! That burns like Oblivion!” It was the first time she had tasted sujamma and she certainly didn't expect that. She thought it would be sweet and mild like mead since she saw everyone drinking it as if it was water.


    Serana smiled at that and took a few steps towards Sapphire who was handing her the bottle. “Aye. Word of advice though,” started the black-haired Nord - not long hair, but pretty, braided in a peculiar way. Sapphire blinked, watching Serana shake her head as if remembering something, mesmerized by the simple motion. “Never drink this with degenerate Orcs.”


    “Degenerate Orcs?” Sapphire raised her eyebrows and then she quickly narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “If I didn’t known better, I'd guess you're talking about a certain Grulmar gro-Largash.”


    “I see you know the bungler,” Serana chuckled, taking a long sip from the bottle. She didn’t even twitch, she just swallowed it like it was water. How can anyone drink it like that? And how can anybody who drinks like that be with a Dragonborn who drinks milk?


    “Yes, unfortunately,” Sapphire murmured, looking away. Bloody Orc gave me my name, damn it. Though for some reason he always pronounced it like ‘Safire’. One day I'm really going to kill him for that. Sapphire gestured with her head down the stairs. “So anybody buy you drinks?”


    “Besides you?” Serana answered, then gesturing with her eyes down the stairs. “He does.”


    Sapphire chuckled, but said nothing to that. The silence was slowly becoming too long even for Sapphire’s tastes and so she coughed, trying to find something to talk about. “So... the Dragonborn, eh?”


    “He definitely comes with some challenges” Serana sighed and then she smiled, her eyes warming up. “But it’s been over a year now. The old bastard’s still buying, and I’m still accepting.” She gave a knowing nod. “It’s not like I didn’t come with my own set of challenges…”


    “How did you meet--”


    A loud bang sounded from downstairs, as if someone had just hit a table with fist, closely followed by Mogrul's angry words: “... going to kill me right on the spot, would you? Come on, we all know…” the voice then trailed off again, into the distant growlings of an angry Orc. “... try of course, but… accidents will happen.” The Orc now raised his voice, as if he wanted everyone to hear. “The girl has orders, you know. Anything happens to me, people are going to get hurt. Plus their debts get doubled if you even scratch me.”


    Serana raised her eyebrows, looking directly at Sapphire, while a mighty roar of laughter sounded from downstairs. That was not Mogrul.


    Thanks for throwing me under the cart, bloody idiot, she rolled her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. “He's so full of shit.”


    “They're probably already comparing,” Another knowing nod from Serana, coupled with a roll of those emerald eyes. “Only he doesn’t really want to play. Poor Äelberon.”


    Äelberon? Weird name for an even weirder Altmer, but at the same time had a nice ring to it. “Comparing dicks, yeah,” Sapphire snorted, then she let a long, slow breath. “That his name?”


    “Aye.” That had a softer tone to it.


    “He poisoned him, you know. Mogrul. Ordered the guard to slip something into the milk.” It was out. One small push against Mogrul, it was all she could do for them.


    Serana watched her with a curious look, tilting her head to the side. “He knows,” she shrugged after a while. “Well, we know. He's already working through it, slowed the poison down.”




    “He’s a mage. A healer, among other things. Thank Oblivion he isn’t acting like much of one here, or I think the Orc would’ve tried something different. He’ll sort through it, he always does. Would be nice if he was, for once, able to do his damn job without people trying to kill him.” She tapped her forefinger on her upper lip as if she was considering something and then pointed at Sapphire. “Why are you even working for the Orc?”


    “You still haven’t answered my question how you two met,” Sapphire pointed out.


    “Ah, yes. How we met,” Serana nodded, smiling like she was remembering something  funny, those beautiful eyes twinkling again. “Well, when we finally put down our weapons and stopped trying to kill each other, he helped me out of a bad family situation and what can I say? I found that I have a thing for eccentric but charming Altmer Dragonborns. Been attached to him ever since. We understand each other, he makes me laugh,” She raised her other hand as if grabbing something in the air, “and he probably has the most incredible arse in Tamriel, and I’ve certainly seen my share of arses.” Sapphire blinked because the woman said it like it was nothing. “Have a good look if he ever walks past you and you’ll see what I mean. I mean, even Queen Barenziah and apparently the Nerevarine pinched it, or slapped it, I don’t remember. One of them, it’s that nice of an arse.” She winked. “That’s a good thing. Now, I’ve answered your question. You’re going to answer mine?” she casually took another sip of sujamma.


    Sapphire didn't really have to think about the answer, she had been giving a lot of thought to the matter over the past few days. “Better to work for him than against him,” she shrugged. “For the time being. He won't stay on the top forever, but until then… just doing what I have to do to survive.”


    Serana seemed to mull that over in her head and then she gestured with her hand, as if she was chasing away a fly. “I have heard better excuses,” she shrugged. “But I have also heard worse. We all do what we have to do.”


    “Yeah,” Sapphire murmured.


    “...you want me to leave?” the Altmer's baritone sounded from downstairs, frustration quite prominent in it. “Fine! I will leave. Because I do not care about your pitiful kingdom, lir, or whatever you want to call it. I have seen ancient kingdoms that would make you cower from their greatness. And just like those kingdoms, your kingdom will not last forever, just as you!” A loud door slam punctuated his words.


    “Hope he didn’t break the door. Sometimes, he doesn’t know his own strength.” Serana remarked as she pushed herself from the handrail and came closer to Sapphire, handing her the bottle. “Guess that means we're leaving,” she sighed. “Would’ve been nice to spend the night in the inn after the damn dragon, but it is what it is. Thanks for the drink.” She then smiled warmly. “And by the way. I like your boots.”


    Sapphire narrowed her eyes because for a second she wasn't sure if had she heard what Serana said correctly. Boots? Boo… Who in the Oblivion compliments boots? She then shook her head and chuckled. “Thanks. I like your eyes,” she said with a wry smile, looking straight at Serana's breasts, making sure Serana knew what she meant.


    “He likes ‘them’ too,” Serana winked at her and then the Dragonborn showed up, carrying two backpacks with him, already cloaked up and geared for the cold. Seems that they had been packing since the dragon went down, Sapphire thought. He was going to leave no matter what Mogrul had said to him downstairs. He walked up the stairs, quite clearly full of Mogrul's shit and Sapphire didn't blame him. The Orc really did parade around like the king of a proper dung heap.


    “I hope you two had better time than I did,” he murmured towards Serana, his eyes resting on Sapphire for a second. She met that gaze, forcing herself not to twitch. She wanted to say something, show some kind of respect because he was the Dragonborn after all, but… it wasn't proper. It just wasn't something that went over her lips naturally - so why force it then? “Sorry for my delay. Had to leave some extra money for Geldris...”


    “You broke the door, didn’t you?” Serana smirked.


    The Dragonborn made a funny little groan in the back of his throat, the tips of his ears going bright red. “Aye.” He answered sheepishly, almost averting his eyes, and then the brows lowered. “Well, I canna help it if Dunmer don’t build things like Nords do. Small beds, little tables and chairs, I barely fit in the room as it is…” He frowned. “We’ll be better off outside. I can finally stretch me poor old legs...” He didn’t sound too convinced about that.  


    “Well, I received a compliment on my ‘eyes’,” Serana smiled, winking at Sapphire.


    The Altmer raised an eyebrow and Sapphire could see the corners of his mouth twitching. “Naturally. You have beautiful ‘eyes’, but I think I am not complimenting them nearly enough. I will attempt to rectify that later.”


    He was looking at the woman's breasts too when he was saying that. “Why is everyone looking at my chest when they're saying that then?” she laughed.


    “Because. I know exactly where your eyes are.” The Dragonborn replied, flashing a smile that immediately made Serana walk up to him. Sapphire watched her slap the Mer’s face playfully and then tug at his beard, the heat between them apparent while he threw a cloak over her shoulders and fastened it. Her face then changed, becoming concerned as a finger traced one of the Mer’s scars. Sapphire noticed the sheen of sweat on his brow.


    “You alright?” Serana asked.


    “No. I have slowed the effects, but I’ll have a rough few days.” He grabbed the hand that had tugged his beard and kissed it quickly. “I have been through much worse. We go. I will be fine.” He reassured. “And I will pay my compliments.” Another wink.


    “You sure?”


    “Sure as the sun shines!” The Dragonborn laughed. Then his features softened. “There will be an ‘After Alduin’, I promise. We are so close now, love. Only a little more.”


    “I know, Star-Knight, I know.” Serana nodded.


    Mogrul then appeared under the stairs, watching the mer with a frown and Sapphire saw how the Dragonborn's mood immediately darkened. “I am going!” the Altmer snapped in the Orc's direction. “But only because I have somewhere better to be than to watch you parade around as if you owned the place. By your injuries, it is clear that you perhaps will not for much longer.”


    “You have no one to back you up here now, Elf. Don’t push it.”


    “Or what? You are going to kill all the people who owe you money? Threaten the town? Well, that’s just bad business, my little Orc king. How will you get your precious money if they’re dead? Did you think of that?” A menacing chuckle then escaped his lips. “I have a better idea. Send your flock of Reavers.” He then stepped right up to Mogrul, getting in his space. Sapphire saw the Orc at first scowl and make to reach for his flail, but then stop. It wasn’t the time. In fact, he then met the Altmer’s glare with a classic Mogrul grin. “You send them to me, mal jun do draaf, and I promise, I will send them back to you.” The eyes narrowed, looking like two hot coals under his silver brow. “In pieces.” He broke away from the Orc. “Serana! We leave.” He barked, making his way towards the door.


    “Alright, old Fart, keep your cloak on.” Serana took a backpack from his extended hand and followed him, stopping for a second. “See you around,” she said over her shoulder to Sapphire who just raised her hand in farewell. And then they disappeared outside, most likely pushing their way through the crowd of people who were thrown out of the cornerclub.


    Mogrul walked towards the young thief, but she ignored him, she just stared at the door. She shouldn't really care about either Serana or the Dragonborn, but deep down she knew she sort of did. And she wished them good luck out there, because they could certainly use it. Luck was always better then bad luck.


    “Now that wasn't so bad, was it?” the Orc next to her chuckled. “I can see it is already starting to work. He’s drenched in sweat. I give him another hour, maybe two, he’ll be out of the city by then.” She frowned, staring at him for several seconds. “What?” he finally asked with a grimace. “Want to say something?”


    She rolled her eyes. “Nah. I just hope the next time a dragon shows up in Raven Rock you'll be able to pull some other Dragonborn out of your arse, because he isn’t going to help.”


    Mogrul chuckled, rubbing his jaw. “No, he definitely isn’t. Want a bottle of milk?”


5 Comments   |   The Long-Chapper and 9 others like this.
  • Caladran
    Caladran   ·  March 17
    Lovely chapter! :)
  • Paws
    Paws   ·  November 26, 2017
    Yeah. more scenes between Safire and Fangs would be nice. It's all in
    the eyes. Or boots and booty in Serana's case. Mogrul's world is falling
    apart around him, and I'm enjoying every moment of it. Still, the dark
    elf with frostbite i...  more
  • Hworra
    Hworra   ·  November 25, 2017
    Such indecency, Albee! >.<

    And Mogrul just keeps on slipping, doesn't he? I like how the tension keeps building between him and Sapphire. More than one kind of tension, if you take my meaning...
  • Santa-Pocky-Hah!
    Santa-Pocky-Hah!   ·  November 19, 2017
    The Old Mary is too smart to fall for that trap. The Gods only know how long he's been avoiding those things. And wow, Mogrul is into that sorta fetish?
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  November 19, 2017
    YAY. I love a nice tavern scene. And Mogrul got pissed!