Nendir trudged wearily through the leafy undergrowth in the Rift's wooded backlands. He felt a pang of hunger as he peered through his heavy lidded eyes and mounted his trusty steed, Shadowmere, and galloped towards the city gates.
He had just ventured back from his orders that was the seemingly simple dummies archery practice from clearing out Dimhollow Cavern for Isran. As Nendir rid Shadow (as Nendir nicknamed the horse) up to the Rift's northern slummy city gates, and dismounted, he couldn't help but wonder what a shame it was that Tolan had come to die inside that god-forsaken crypt. He guessed he'd just have to order Isran for some more worthy mercenaries if they wanted to purge this vampire crap.
As Nendir nodded tiredly at the purple cladded guard standing watch - "We'll soon drive these blood-suckers into the ground Nendir; It'll all be over soon". Hopefully, Nendir thought, as the guard stopped chatting long enough to unbolt the gate to let him inside.
Nendir wandered past Bolli - who stunk of sweat and histcarp, into the Bee and Barb, and sank himself down on his favorite rickety stool at the bar. But no sooner had his tired rump hit the chair, than some sprightly fellow bounced over to him and stood there, grinning at him, as if to present him with some kind of award.
He was a tall, thin shouldered fellow with long, black hair tied into a ponytail, and a small patch of dark hair under his lip. He was adorned in brazen gold and yellow robes. Some sort of mage, Nendir thought. "Well?" Nendir snapped, more angrier and awake than his tired disposition would suggest, as he slurped his mead from the dirtied tankard.
"W-w-well, I-I h-heard about the recent vampire attacks, sir." Nendir didn't care for this information. Who hadn't? He thought. He'd been fending off the pastey bastards for a few months now, and grew intolerant of the villagers which kept talking about them. The guards were enough, Nendir thought.
"And? What are you suggesting...whatever your name is?" Nendir retorted. "It's Marcurio". The young Imperial's voice rang out like a high-chimed bell round the small, dusty inn.
"I had heard this, ...this....'Dawnguard' needed a few more men." "Well, you're not wrong there..." Nendir said dulcetly. They did, more than ever, since Tolan was of late. "Are you suggesting we collaborate or somethin'?" Nendir said, regretting it already.
"Why, yes! Yes of course! I-i-if you'd allow me, of course, I mean." Marcurio sure was an anxious fellow, but spoke sometimes excitedly. Too excitedly, Nendir thought. It was beginning to remind him of Cicero. Nendir shuddered; He hadn't thought of that jester for some time since his trip to the Dawnstar Sanctuary. "I work alone, Marcurio. Poisons and well-crafted arrows are my sidekick." Nendir said matter-of-factly. It also reminded him to go see Balimund, he was running low on his ebony arrows, as he absent mindedly shifted his suprisingly light quiver to the other shoulder.
"I promise not to get in your way!" Marcurio answered loudly. "You'd better not, if you get in the way of me firing, you're going to find a sizzling poisoned arrow in your hide, my friend." This frightened Marcurio, Nendir found it obvious.
"Well, if you insist....mage." Marcurio beamed ear to ear, Nendir thought he was going to hug him. He shuddered again. "We'll set off tommorrow, it's far too late now, and in the morning we'll need to buy a few things..."
So as he and Marcurio decided to trudge to the nearest bed across the ratway bridge, to Haelga's Bunkhouse, the night began to settle, and Nendir and Marcurio sank into the soft sheep-skin and hay beds upstairs, and slept until the morn...
***
Nendir was awoken on a dreary, bleak Loredas by the sound of Marcurio loudly humming as he packed his satchel. "Eager, are you?" Nendir dribbled bleakly, rubbing his eyes. Marcurio did not answer, but set off down stairs without so much as a nod to Nendir.
Nendir got out of bed and got dressed, strapping on his Guild-Master's bracers, Nightingale boots and cuirass, and his black cowl. He picked up his bow, and his quiver from under the bed which he had left there the night before, and trundled down the stairs.
He was then greeted by the already dressed and packed mage, still sporting the same bright drab as yesterday. "We need to get you a few things" Nendir said most unimpressed, as his eyed Marcurio head to foot in his robes. They headed out the door, as Nendir threw Haelga the septims they owed her for staying the night.
They both headed over to Balimund, who was already bashing away a crudely shaped axe made from elven moonstone. Nendir placed his order of arrows, as always, then shunted Marcurio through the door to the Pawned Prawn, to buy him a few things. Nendir slung Marcurio and old crossbow, which Marcurio caught surprisingly well. "Here's an old crappy crossbow Isran lent me. I don't bloody need it, Isran clearly hasn't much of a grasp of my talents with a bow, a weapon as simple as this, is better used by you." Marcurio chuckled lightly, and then said "But I'm a mage! Crossbows are the least bit easy to use compared to a scroll, Nendir." "Well, unless you want to be blasting the Mistwalkers with novice spells whilst they sink their jaws round yer' throat, you'll be using that instead." Nendir replied. Marcurio looked worriedly down at the contraption in his arms, but took Nendir's advice.
Nendir bought some scrolls, too, and gestured to Marcurio to leave the shop and return to Balimund. "If I know that Nord as well as I do, those arrows should be ready by now; Come on."
Part II
***
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