R4msden-Nord21 Posted July 10, 2021 Share Posted July 10, 2021 The knight stepped forward, glancing around the dimly lit tavern, the modest hearth barely causing a shine on his plated breast. He was tall, even for a Breton. Most would put him at fifty... maybe older. A stern face that had seen many a quarrel. His hair blonde-grey and thinning to the top of his head, and gathered in a loose tie as it rests on his cuirass. “I am Sir Jerian Maurard, Knight of the Dragon. This is my charge, Sir Roderic Townway...” From the darkness of the doorway a younger Breton emerged. Much younger than Jerian, perhaps twenty years his junior. He was at least a head shorter, but broader of shoulder, broader of stature. Thick leather-brown hair that falls by a closely cropped beard. The silver of his plate armour coming into view. “...the Lord Commander sent us to this place to locate one of our own, who has been missing for most of this year. We are led to believe he has turned against his vows, against his kin. Joining in brotherhood with the savages of the Reach...” looking down at the Dragon crest on his cuirass, Jerian lets out a slight sigh, a forlorn look on his brow... Stepping forward, placing his hand on a wooden table, Roderic continued “...It is said a Breton, auburn haired and a visible scar on his cheek was sighted on the cliff overlooking this hamlet...” His tone becoming more stern, “...If not for the feeling in my heart, the scar alone is enough to say this is our sworn brother. We need anything that may be offered, that can tell us where he went or who he was with...” Upon being met with disinterested eyes and disinterested whispering, the cause is deemed lost and Jerian looks at Roderic gesturing towards the door. Through the moist tavern stupor, a raspy voice cuts halting their would-be exit. “Such burdens may be shared... for the right price...” the voice sneered. While scouring the host within the tavern, the source of the voice is quickly found. Piercing green eyes meet the two knights, who stand watching the cat as he slowly yet with a subtle abruptness comes forth, prompting Roderic to tighten the grip on his sword. “With the severity of our cause friend, if you know anything... speak now” Jerian replies, slowly walking into the centre of the tavern to meet the Khajiit. Flashing a fearsome grin, the cat retorts “...and I tell you... such things have a price” tilting his head. Becoming somewhat annoyed, Jerian places his hand on his belt and growls quietly “surely there is no price for human decency?” On hearing this the Khajiit looks to Roderic, seemingly noting his impatience. “Ah... but I’m not human...am I? I tell you one last time that such burdens come at a price... a price that you will willingly oblige... if your cause is as severe as you imply...” The Khajiit steps back slightly and looks at the two knights, one to the other. The grin, slowly forming into a snarl, he hisses “there are other ways that I can get you to agree...” placing his claw inside his vest. In an instant, Jerian lunges forward unsheathing his sword, as though he was thirty years younger. In a flash of steel light, the blade sits gently at the neck of the beast slowly turning the golden fur a dark crimson... and one that starts to trickle in a small stream down the blade of Jerian’s sword. Forcing down a strong gulp, the Khajiit scurries his claw down to his side. His eyes twitch to his right towards the corner of the tavern, and back to meet Jerian’s. Following the sight, Jerian slowly turns his head and can see two small Khajiit whelps... no older than five or six. The boy, with his mane gathered into intricate braids holding the remnants of a stale crust. The girl, much smaller with brilliant sapphire blue eyes clutching on to a small tattered doll. “Tell me what you know...” whispered Jerian, looking back and engulfed by an unspoken understanding. Nodding and his eyes wide, the Khajiit relents and mouths the word… “Markarth” The barkeep steps from behind the bar and waves off his clientele “nothing more to be seen here now you lot... as you were...” he then hands Jerian a rag that the latter uses to wipe down his sword. It is then handed to the Khajiit, who softly dabs it over the crimson fur. “For your troubles...” says Jerian, placing a small but honest sized coin purse into the cats claw, a small smile spreading across his maw. Outside the tavern, adjusting the saddle of his horse, Roderic turns to address his Lord. “You still paid him mi’Lord?” Not looking to meet the gaze of his charge, Jerian responds. “ I have looked into the eyes of many a man, mer and beast wanting to carve a reputation into the hide of a knight. I saw no such thing in that cats eyes, only a father resorting to a desperate measure to feed his children more than a mere stale crust...” Placing his hand on Roderic’s shoulder, Jerian continues “...do not tarry on the urgency of our errand Sir Roderic, but we are still knights of this realm... what is a knights compass?” “Protect and Serve” “Protect and serve. The most sacred of any vow you have taken... never forget that”. Fenrus, Rotzi, Adella and 2 others 5 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Create an account or sign in to comment
You need to be a member in order to leave a comment
Create an account
Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!Register a new account
Already have an account? Sign in here.Sign In Now