M Tavern Tales [NPC]

[Masahir N'air]

With the job set and the package passed off, Ra'tima-dro swankered back to her perch next to the sly Demetri. Noctra willing, there would be no more shenanigans to grow her headache any further tonight. The feline couldn't help but cautiously eye the dark haired Constantia, who was quaffing down her fourth beverage of the night at the other end of the bar. She scowled just a smidge before her icy eyes darted up to Lolomi’s face, sliding her coin across the bar top not unlike an air hockey puck. “Four more.”

The gerudo caught the coins with her formidable, meaty paw, scooping them up in her apron to count before retrieving the empty mugs from in front of Demetri. Soon she returned with four full, sloshing tankards, clanking them down right before the petite khajiiti woman. Ra smiled, her tail curling playfully as she glanced at the man beside her. “Oh no, Shadow, what ever is this silly khajiit going to do with all of this drink?”

“Ah, you are quite the silly kitty~ How ever are you planning to down all of that before it gets cold?”

“Oh, she hardly knows! She will be dancing on the tables if she tries.” Ra’tima murred as she moved to lean in towards him a small bit, her pupils dilating as her spotted tail swished.

The cunning thief reciprocated, leaning in with a half-cocked eyebrow and a smug grin as he rested his hand on his chin. “It seems she will have to share, certainly... Unless you want to put on a show, that is...”

"She will only share with him if he helps her put some distance between the competents... and the riff-raff." Ra shrugged her shoulder in the direction of the hapless jailbird duet as she handed two of the tankards off to the rogue beside her, who oh-so gratefully took them off her poor paws. "Come, sit comfortably at a cozy table and she will regale him henceforth."

Demetri smirked as he got up from the bar, he hadn’t heard the woman use that particular word yet, and it tickled him. He wondered if she’d suddenly take to using bardic prose and language during her tale, though he felt he somewhat doubted it. She was certainly full of surprises, the rapscallion decided as he picked a booth close-ish to the fireplace- both of them were still cooling off from their passion, after all.

He glanced up, his curious silver eyes smoldering at her from under his mess of curly bangs as he slid into the seat. “Ladies first~ You have gotten me all wound up to hear this tale of intrigue, now I am basically licking my lips with anticipation darling~”

“Oh?” Ra mused as she took a swig from one mug. “She thought he was still salivating over the appetizer from a few moments earlier~”

“Maybe we both share a certain insatiability. So kitten, how does it start?”

The khajiiti woman chuckled, amused by his interest in her story. “Many moons ago, when Ra’tima-dro was younger and much less wise than she is now, she worked within a guild of thieves in a barren desert’s port called Hew’s Bane. It was good pay, fun living with the merchants and pirates coming and going from the harbor, though it was not always easy. The deserts are as cruel as they are dry. This one liked to take on burglary and numbers jobs, where she would hit a stubborn business, alter their ledgers and heist any notable profits from their coffers.”

Demetri nodded, focusing on the feline’s gray speckled face as if it held all the secrets he thirsted for. It explained why she was invested in collecting all those tantalizing little black ledgers.

“Eventually they would learn to pay up, or keep suffering the proud losses- but after heisting the dowry of Magnifica Falorah in the al-Danobia family tomb...” The Shadow leaned in keenly, sipping at his mead. “Running normal numbers jobs did not, how does one say it, ‘hit’? the same anymore. She got bored of Hew’s Bane.”

“You got bored?”

She held up a finger as she drank.

“Yes, the Dowry was quite the event of life and death, of grandeur and prophecy. The very future of this one’s guild had depended on it being a success, for we were being hunted to extinction. Oh, but she wanders from the point, sweet Shadow. He wanted to hear about the Queen, yes?”

He sat back a tad in his chair, contemplating as he traced along the patterns of the table’s wood grain with a single black nail. “Of course. You were saying that you grew bored.”

“So, naturally, she told her Guildmaster, a redguard woman named Danizeira, that she was hungering for a hunt, a greater adventure... A change of scenery at the very least!” She tossed her head back and laughed. “You never know just how boring the same stretch of desert can get!”

“What, do you not like the desert?” Demetri chuckled smugly. “I think you picked the wrong planet to dwell on then, sweetheart.”

“This one loves the feeling of warm sands, and the sounds of it’s biting rustle ’ch- ch- ch-’~” Ra mimicked. “Hew’s Bane was just getting stale. Don’t you enjoy traveling too, ‘Captain’ Malius?”

“Aye, the lady is correct. I have enjoyed my share of wayfaring, one of the many perks of owning your own ship.”

She smirked at his swankering, all his not-so-modest confidence as he pushed his chest out a bit. “Anyways, Danizeira sent her off on the next ship out with a mission. The sleek Ra'tima-dro would be on her way back to her home, Elsweyr, to help the guild cozy up to a few sweet-furred Senchal traders. Something highly beneficial, as we were trying to expand our reach and sway, and they needed an edge to cut into the rackets outside of Senchal.

She boarded a fine ship called The Prowler, where the captain was a silky khajiiti woman by the name of Jimila. It was smooth sailing through the Dominion Isles... That was until we were about a week from southern Elsweyr, sailing past the flourishing port city Mistral. We were not originally planning to stop here, the sea elves had a particular habit of treating us native khajiit as a second class at best, and slaves at worst.”

“But?” The rogue inquired. There was always a ‘but’.

“But,” the corners of her mouth pulled down into a visible frown, “it seemed the gods had other plans for us in place. This one was below deck, trying to sleep off a hangover when all of the boat’s lurching and swaying dropped a rather heavy hourglass on her poor head. When she regained her bearings and stopped her nose from bleeding, she rushed above deck. At first all of the thundering noise and rushing footsteps up top had her preparing to come above to fight off some pirate raid, but what she found was so much worse.

The clear blue sky had grown terribly dark, the waves kicking up into towering surges the likes of which the astounded Ra’tima-dro had never seen before, or since! Try as she might, but even the experienced Captain Jimila could not keep control of the helm in that hurricane. We tried to bail the ship out, but soon the surge began to flood the lower decks, and the dark sea snatched members of the crew in her cruel embrace, like a petulant brat throwing her toys all around. Our crew were swept overboard, one by one, as they struggled to man the Prowler...

Talented Ra’tima has always been athletic, but even she began to tire as she slugged through that storm. In a last ditch attempt, this one tied herself, the quartermaster, and the captain to the middle mast, and prayed to her gods. She will never forget just how small the waves made her feel, or how insanely loud they can be when they crash down on top of you and crush you against the deck, like a bug beneath a cub’s paw.

The last thing she remembers is the cold, dark sea swallowing her up, and her arms going numb as it all started to fade away."

Now she stopped, swigging down the last of her first tankard. "Obviously she survived." Ra stated dryly.

So dryly I'm fact, that Demetri chortled sharply. "Yeah? No shit." He sassed incredulously.

She laughed back, running her hands down the length of her tail. "Well, to be fair, this one woke up to such a sight that she'd thought she had passed into Azura's Twilight Realm of oblivion."

"Oh~? And what did you see?"

"A very handsome and sleek Khajiit who was about to irrevocably change her life forever. His name was Razum-dar, and he was refreshingly cunning and fragrant. A puma of a man, with a bright crimson mane, he was quite the sutazeva.”

Sutazeva. He’d heard her use that word already tonight, first for himself, and now for this Razum-dar man. “Your main squeeze before me, or... was this more of a baby daddy thing?”

Ra’tima rolled her eyes, smacking her lips with a flick of her ear as she gave a shrug. “This one was not at all ready for, nor wanting of, any kittens, especially then. She still has things to heist and shinies to collect after all~ She has no time for messy, needy babies.” She glanced down at the table, then peered back up at him, a playful expression worn on her face. She raised her hand to her speckled muzzle, her voice dropping to a whisper only he’d hear, as if she were letting him in on some irresistible secret he needed to know. “Masahir is enough of a handful, and she is already grown.”

They both chuckled, though he knew he could only hazard a guess at best.

“Now, Mistral, and Khenarthi’s Roost as a whole, was a complicated mess of naval flexing and posturing between the Aldmeri Dominion, and Pyandonea of the corpse-skinned, viper-worshiping Marrmeri. People knew it as the Jewel of the Southern Seas, and its houses cast long, deep shadows. This one was wise enough to try to avoid such tensions between the Mer, she cared very little for the high-court politics and long-winded speeches full of empty promises to a hungry people. Besides, there was rarely a place in fine court for a face as fuzzy and keen as her own, even if the new Queen of the Dominion was promising more equality.

Silky Ra thought that royalty were only good for one thing: stealing away all their vain riches and beautiful jewelry... Perhaps she could credit them with being entertaining with their fashion sense, on occasion.” She gave a wry snort, batting her hand as she digressed just a smidge, the alcohol was making her face warm.

“Anyways, Raz was a sight for her sore, salt ridden eyes. He was whispering to her about the hurricane, encouraging her to keep her voice down. Raz was apparently there on some mission requiring delicacy, but he took one look at this one, all sopping wet, and decided that she would be good help. She told him she was a civilian, not interested in any delicate diplomacy missions. Those green eyes of his, they caught her in a lie. Somehow he knew that this one was not just some innocent civilian washed up on the beach, she always thought that there was much more to that fragrant cat than he ever let on.”

She dropped her voice into a lower register to imitate the khajiit. “Yes, lie with confidence!’ he said. ‘A straight face, and a gleam in your eye. Well done! It is very good right now to fit in, you understand?”

“Of course she understood, but she was still pretty confused over his requests for help. You see, this one has never really been the type to dive whiskers first into a strange new obligation-”

“You seemed to enjoy diving into me~” Demetri interrupted with a sly grin.

“... Yes, after this one caught his clumsy hide poking around on her ship-”

”My ship.”

“Uh uh uh,” Ra waggled her clawed finger to chide the man. “Her pilot acquired it very legally, she will most readily remind him. If he is so attached to it, maybe he can strike a deal with the android and get it back, or...” A smirk lit up her face, “he can put his skills to the test against the mystery machine and see if he can heist it~?”

The thief only rolled his eyes, instead electing to swill down the last of his tankard. Maybe he would pay that android a visit sometime, see just how far her mimicry of the female body went while he lifted his keys off her.

“Mm, mhmm.” The khajiiti storyteller chimed at his response. “This one did not want to get too heavily involved in Meri politics, but alas, Mistral was where Raz brought her. He liked her, because she was clearly not some soldier marching about in plate, with a sword strapped to her hip and a gleam of pillaging in her eyes, and said that alone would ease the people’s worries.

When we got to the city proper, it was chaos. Makeshift healing wards and relief centers were already being set up all along the dirt roads, crowded with the half drowned and bleary eyed survivors. Wandering children mewled for their fisherfolk parents, hoping to find them, and when they didn’t they fell into a group around the nearest kindly adult.

Raz explained to her that he was here with the Dominion’s ambassadors, that they had come all of this way to negotiate Mistral’s peaceful admittance into the alliance. The marrmeri ambassador, a wretched corpse-skin by the name of Ulondil, was making it clear that he considered them showing up at all to be an invitation to war that could break the long standing treaty between the islanders and Pyandonea. Something the mayor of Mistral, a khajiiti woman named Harrani, and the people alike found themselves completely lacking the appetite for.

This one had little clue at the time as to why all of this was important enough to employ such elusive tactics as Raz was wanting. It soon became apparent that Ulondil had no code of honor or ethics- she knows, rich coming from a cutthroat khajiiti merchant lord, yes?” She chuckled warmly, downing more of her mead.

“Even thieves and assassins have honor amongst themselves. You see, he had ground negotiations to a halt. He refused to produce his copy of the treaty, and had stolen Harrani’s copy. Without this silly, baffling document, they could not proceed, for whatever reasons Ra’tima-dro still barely cares to try understanding. Either way, the task of retrieving it without bloodshed was delegated to her by Raz. She was then meant to bring it to a drenameri man known simply as ‘The Silvenar’.”

“The Silvenar?” Demetri repeated gently, the word sounded magical, and felt vast on his tongue.

“He was a great man, gentle and full of patience and compassion. Think of him as the living embodiment of Drenameri spirituality. He was the lead diplomat of choice for the Queen of the Dominion for his skill, and the treaty was weak and lopsided, and painfully full of marrmeri superiority sentiment. He was certainly going to tear it full of holes in no time.

Ra’tima-dro arrived at his lodging, only to find that the Silvenar was stone cold dead. She will spare Malius the boring details of the goose chase through the market, but it is easy to say that it was the worst- and last- mistake ambassador Ulondil ever made.

The Silvenar’s widow, the Green Lady- embodiment of the drenameri’s physical strengths- helped this one to trap the viper in his nest. Watching her tear into him was like witnessing a blessed senche lioness, smiting her select prey. She did not make his passing easy, for she was in mourning, and she made sure he felt every ounce of her pain before turning it on the rest of those sea vipers.

Of course, Ra’tima-dro was certain that she had just borne witness to the start of a war. And yet the hands of fate sought to prove her wrong.”

“How so?”

“It was not war she was about to witness, fair Shadow, it was a full blown extermination attempt.”​

 

[Masahir N'air]

“So... You are tellin’ me that the marrmer were planning to ‘nuke’ the entire island?” Demetri’s arched brows furrowed up in piqued astonishment. By now, both Ra and the rogue were already looking at the bottom of their fourth and fifth drinks respectively. His cheeks were flushed rosy, and his eyes half-lidded as he listened to her tale.

“Aye, they had decided that if they couldn’t have complete hold over Khenarthi’s Roost, then no one else would. Damn the innocent khajiiti farmers or fisherfolk who made their honest living there. Wretched, disgusting supremacists.”

“And this storm nuke, it was powered by the life forces of those bound in certain runes?” He wanted clarity over how this strange magic worked.

“Something to that effect, yes. Blood magic is meant for gathering up energy quickly, and releasing it all in just as fast of a *snap*. She can not say that she understood the specifics at the time, she was much younger and not as scholarly inclined as the smarmy alimer sorcerer would have liked.” Ra’tima sighed softly. “It was always the same with mer, they take advantage of you, then expect you to know better than them while also thinking such expectations are impossible to your ‘inferior’ race. Infuriating is what it was.

This alimer sorcerer, he was like any others, a coward who lacked all confidence in this one, but was more than willing to send her in as the sacrifice in his own stead. She thinks it would have been much more efficient for him to go and fight the tempest the marrmer had summoned, instead of the khajiit girl who barely understood how to summon a dagger, let alone defeat a charged storm atronach!

But she was dragged along, mainly because she could not find a smart way to escape the blast on such a tiny island. ... And the charming Razum-dar had said he was counting on this one’s help.”

“Ha, you did it for a guy’s approval?” The Shadow could barely comprehend the idea of such a standoffish woman as Ra doing anything for the favor of a hot guy, though it did give his intoxicated brain a few ideas.

“Has the cunning Shadow never done anything stupid or reckless for the attentions of a beautiful lady, especially when he was younger? This one would find denial hard to believe coming from such a devotee of Sangiin.”

He smirked into a lopsided grin, putting his hands up as if in surrender. “Alright pretty kitty, you ’ave caught me, I get it, I understand.”

She smiled back, a soft murring chuff sounding as she brushed her tail against his legs under the table. “She did it for many reasons. Most importantly, she was still eagerly thirsting for recompense over the audacity of such supremacists.”

“But how did you kill the thing, that’s what I am wondering.” He blurted out, earning a smack on the side of his thigh from her tail.

“Yes, yes, she killed the big bad evil monster, have no doubt. It was a horrible, towering creature made of lightning and etched stone, with eyes that blistered with the unnaturally bright blue of arcane energy. She did not think it was too happy over being summoned and bound to the plane of Nirni, or that it was enjoying being overcharged into a genocidal bomb for the sake of its cruel masters.

The alimer mage had explained to her how to interrupt its spell, disattuning the storm totems with what he called a ‘perfectly safe’ lodestone. This one was not in the mood to see her fur fry because a cocky wizard forgot to carry a number, so with a little bit of charm she persuaded him to demonstrate first before he fled. She wasn’t going to let him leave her with the glory of doing all of his work now.”

“You charmed him?”

“In her own way, yes. She thinks a dagger’s edge against one’s throat is pretty convincing at least.” The khajiiti woman laughed heartily, in a way that drew the thief in, and had him morbidly chuckling right along with her.

“Aye, it certainly does help them comply.”

“A good motivator, yes~? Especially when one is being rushed into such undesirable circumstances. She swore that if she were to die, she’d make sure to come back and haunt him for the rest of his centuries! He showed her what to do, and without much time left, this one ran to the summoning circle as if Khenarthi herself was at her back, pushing her along.

The atronach must have been at least thrice her height, and several times her width. All around it crackled violent energies bent into lightning against their wills, terrible winds whipped at her face and chest and arms, beating her down until she was weary and battered. One by one she disrupted the calling horns, nearly getting her tail singed off in the process! Had the elemental fully understood how to lead this one, she would be a bobcat for certain.” She clutched at her tail, holding it’s fuzzy length close to her chest, as if she were scared it might pop off and wriggle away.

“Oye, Ra’tima-dro is most thankful to her gods for bestowing such luck upon her sleek spots. This one had managed to dismantle all three horns without being blown to tiny bits, and now she faced the creature down for the final blows... It was not an agile foe in and of itself, being such a lumbering giant composed of stone, storm and magic- but its attacks could easily punch through a man with no effort, and they were too quick to dodge once shot off.

This one had been studying the atronach while tearing the warhorns apart, learning how it moved, figuring out its tells before it slung a spell while she still had a smidge of cover to hide behind. Ra’tima would now have to rely on her memory alone to predict the attacks of the beast and survive the encounter. Finally would come the hardest part-” She stood, tail wrapped around her waist as she slammed her palms down on the table and leaned over it hard at the thief.

“She had to somehow use the lodestone on it, and then get out before it turned her into another statistic!” She clutched at the robes on her chest, pulling her black saree close, the flecks of interwoven silver threads glittered orange as they caught the fire-light. She slowly sunk back down into her seat. “She dodged to the left, strafing around it, then rolled to the right, sliding under it to come up behind it on the other side. She had made an opening in her dancing evasions, but now she had to maintain it while the stone siphoned the energy away.

Azurah forbid important magic happen as quickly as she wished it to when her whiskers were on the line. The moments could have been hours spent waiting, but with that stupid rock charged and her fur standing on edge, she lodged the lodestone into the opening of its chest and watched as its arcane heart began to crack. Oh, it was as if she had wings, Shadow! She caught the wind and she bolted through the thickets and strands of trees as fast as her legs could take her, but still Ra’tima-dro was not certain if she would live to see the moons rise again. This one could feel the ground swelling and rumbling terribly beneath her nimble feet, threatening to rip open and swallow her up whole!

And that’s when it happened: a pink portal split reality in twaine and a paw darted out to grab this one, and yank her through, just in the nick of time! Ra’tima-dro swears that she could just feel her fur begin to singe when she landed arse first in the sands of the Quay, with the sun shining clear and bright overhead.”

“D’you know who pulled you through, darlin’?” Demetri wondered aloud as he rested his cheek in his palm, intent on listening to her harrowing experience at the hands of Mer politics. He enjoyed hearing her talk, and how she told stories.

“It was Raz. He had a mage cast a spell so he could bring her to safety.” Ra gave a quiet, solemnly wistful sigh. “He praised her for her heroics, told her that she had proven herself, that he kept his eye on promising people. The corpse-skins were either fled or dead, Khenarthi’s Roost was safe and had volunteeringly joined the Aldmeri Dominion, all in no small part thanks to this one’s efforts while working for the sleek man.

Razum-dar had decided that Ra’tima-dro was worth trusting, and in turn set her on an important mission. Granted, she argued that she had other business to attend to, her original business. ...” She paused, smiling one of the widest grins Demetri had seen on her thus far. “Raz was always so slick. You see, this one made this mistake of taking him up on a night of drinks, and he found a way to convince her to go save the dear Queen Ayrenn.”

The thief’s eyebrow waggled, silently expressing his dogged curiosity. He could make a few educated guesses, take a couple of stabs in the dark as to what had happened. He had a certain feeling that he’d be right, no less.

She chuckled. “No, she will not tell him that detail, he will have to just make due with fantasies and assumptions as to the nature of that night. The end result was that she found herself back on Captain Jimila’s ship.”

“The Prowler, right?”

“Aye. With over half of her original crew and nearly all of her cargo lost, she was no longer in shape to make landfall in Senchal, especially not with an empty hull. Turns out, the Dominion had paid her good coin to ferry their injured troops back to Auridon. Ra was to land in Vulkhel Guard and this was where she was meant to speak with an old friend of dear Raz: the Watch Captain, Astanya.”​

 

[Masahir N'air]

“Raz had warned her that Astanya could... Well, the alimer hag could be a real bitch at times to put it lightly. Confrontational, combative, concerned with doing things her way or no way at all. Astanya had many of the traits that this one can not stand in Mer. Most important of all, she carried with her the same air of smug, spiteful scorn that Ra’tima was already so painfully aware of. Astanya phrased it as simply, ‘not being a fan of the alliance’, but Ra could instantly hear her true words. She was like so many other alimer, disgusted and revolted by their ‘feral little cousins’ the Drenamer and ‘throw rug friends’, the Khajiit.

You can always tell, just from the way they look down on you, and you get used to understanding that it means they don’t think of you as a real person. The Mormer and their cruel slavers are just the same as the Marrmer vipers, who are just the same as the supremacist Alimer. So wrapped up in their vain love of themselves that they were willing to destroy the entire world- everything anyone had ever held dear- just to continue to make love to their own reflections. For the sake of their pointless pride.” The Khajiiti woman scoffed rather primly for how buzzed she felt.

“But Raz had called this Astanya a friend, one of good company. Ra wanted to believe him, but the Captain was blunt about her reasons for thinking him deluded. ...

She said that she hadn’t been able to stand him since he’d signed up to work for the Queen herself, something Raz had avoided mentioning to Ra thus far, though she fully understood his reasons. Captain Astanya was quick to call the Queen’s inner circle nothing but thieves and cloak and dagger ruffians-”

“To your face? She was just comfortable enough to say that all, to your face?” Malius seemed incredulous at the idea of blurting out such an opinion in front of a stranger- a stranger in the service of the very people one was disrespecting.

“Ra’tima-dro assumes that Astanya just thought she was too stupid of a cat to understand, another illiterate ex-slave from the Dres saltrice plantations who could barely comprehend the ‘true ways of the world’ or some other ridiculous pomping nonsense bigots seem to enjoy believing. Pah. The Captain hated the Queen for having traveled across Tamriel in order to see the world, back when she was still a princess. A lot of Alimer held the same sentiments against Ayrenn, Ra would eventually come to find out.”

“No travel or sampling of other cultures allowed even for royalty? The Alimer sound like they all have a stick wedged somewhere the sun fails to shine~”

“Aye, sweet-claws. Most of the ones she met cared far too much about bloodlines and pedigrees and proper breeding. You know, she once traveled to their homeland, the Summerset Isles- a beautiful and magical land- and nearly every alimer she met was obsessed about a strict set of incredibly polite, tight, social laws. She once made the shocking discovery of a ‘Guide to Approved Methods of Procreation; according to proper alimer heritage’, after she got a curious alimer man drunk and interested... She will note that the guide certainly made a lot of her... Disappointments with him make sense.”

The Shadow snorted a laugh. “What, was it only missionary allowed, or something?”

She snorted, laughing into her palms. “It might as well have been! The book mentioned being careful not to vary speed too much, less you begin to act ‘primal’ and disgrace your ancestors.” Again Ra giggled, trying to hush herself, but clearly too amused.

“Cultural police walked the streets of the city of Alinor, and Mer mothers often clutched their purses and children close when they noticed this one walking amongst them. ... Except for a banker whose name escapes her, but she was overtly enthusiastic. Often this banker asked her out for lunch, because she was interested in this one’s accent and stories.”

Demetri shrugged casually. “Or maybe she was just into foreign women, depends on if that guide allowed it, huh?”

The Baandari merchant rolled her eyes and exhaled sharply as she regained her composure. “Anyway, Astanya charged this one with helping on two tasks from the Queen’s inner court, an advisor and a steward. The Captain said she couldn’t spare the hands.” She sighed softly. “Because this one just loves to be an errand-boy to Mer...

Ra decided to visit the steward first, as she understood stewardship duties more than any political advising. This royal steward was an alimeri woman whose name escapes her- she told this one that a few of her chefs had gotten deathly ill after handling some of the ingredients meant for the Queen’s feast. She wanted it looked into for she suspected it was sabotage, but she was far too busy organizing literally every other aspect of the visit to go goose hunting herself. She wanted all of the food supplies checked over for tampering.

This one’s sharp nose made short work of that investigation. Sleek Ra had sniffed it all out, poisoned salts rubbed into a crate of preserved white meats, but when she emerged from the warehouse, she was nearly gutted by an alimeri man in a pressed leather uniform. Of course, her natural khajiiti grace gave her the edge against this gold-skinned cutthroat. Once she regained her guard, their dance lasted only seconds longer,” Ra’tima’s words lulled gently as she produced her cruel looking rubedite dagger. The light glinted crimson and ruddy orange on the blade’s dark surface, rippling like the deep red of a rich wine.

“She drove her blade through his throat in the dusk-light of that dim dockyard, and kicked his body into the sea for the fish to enjoy. It was becoming abundantly clear that there was something running afoul in Vulkhel Guard. She made her way to the advisor next, who was complaining that a servant of his had tracked a burglar to this building we were standing in front of. According to the advisor, the thief had stolen a set of deployment plans for the port’s Marine deployment schedules-”

“How odd for a random grab and snatch.” Demetri remarked, clearly suspicious as to what was unfolding.

“Aye, very strange indeed. The advisor said he had no idea what such ‘common filth’ had wanted, though it was easy to guess that the criminal was likely being paid by someone with means, but a distaste for getting their own hands dirty. Someone who couldn’t risk being seen.

So she made her way into this warehouse, settling into place behind cover just in time to witness a meet-up between the thief, and another shadowy operative. The operative demanded the scroll, and the criminal demanded his pay. He was paid with a knife in his chest... and yet, this assassin failed to take the plans. This one gathered the details, and was utterly dismissed back to Astanya to deliver the news.

This one made quick back to the Watch Captain. She wanted to wash her hands of this plot ordeal already, especially since so many biased alimeri were involved- but when she got to the captain, she was instead turned towards yet another task, this time something incredibly urgent. Apparently an assassin had taken a hostage, and barricaded himself inside of a house, threatening to kill the innocent and himself if they tried to arrest him.

His name was Fasion, and the guard wanted and needed Ra to be the one to approach him. They said that he might be more willing to talk to someone who wasn’t an enforcer- a theory this one was much inclined to believe. He decided to trust her, because he could hear her accent and could tell that she was not native to Auridon in the slightest.

He let her in to talk, and it was clear that he was not an assassin holding a hostage as a bargaining chip. No, he was an innocent whistle blower, frantic to tell Ra’tima-dro that Captain Astanya was a part of an underground splinter cell of supremacist traitors called the Veiled Heritance, who were planning to assassinate the Queen at the temple that very same night. Said that the traitors had bribed members of the Queen’s staff in order to have her ceremonious speech moved to Vulkhel Guard, where they already had Astanya deep in their pockets.

Fasion said that he knew this one was only meant to serve as a distraction, but that she had to warn the Queen. He had no evidence but his word and memory, but she will be honest, she did not need much convincing to believe that the haughty Mer detested working with us ‘lower races’ in such close proximity and intimacy. It was easy to accept that various groups would seek to depose Ayrenn for even considering the alliance, let alone actually making it so.

It was already too late to escape, however. The guards had poured inside, and directed her out to face the captain by the points of their blades.

Astanya instantly framed the entire operation on this one alone, pointing to the plans she held and the smell of the poisoned meats she had handled an hour prior. Called her an assassin here to murder the Queen. She was surrounded by what must have at least half of the city guard! So much for trusting Razum-dar’s vouching for others, pah! She knew that if she managed to escape alive, she would have many words to say to him for it.”

“Dare tell me, my lovely kitty, what was your daring escape~?”

“Oh, there was not one.” Came Ra’tima’s matter-of-fact response, much to the thief’s total surprise. “She could not run and live, not surrounded by so many trained soldiers, all with their eyes on her and their blades caressing her pelt. She would have been a pin-cushion in record speeds- she had to bide her time, wait for a better opening, varzeva. They locked her wrists in cuffs, and Astanya herself accompanied us two ‘criminals’ to her dungeons, making a show of how she thwarted a duo of assassins and protected the Queen loyally during the visit. Pah.

When we got to the holding cells, the guards opened the door to her new cage and shoved both her and Fasion in, kicking us in the ribs until we could hardly breath. The next thing this one felt was the broad pommel of Astanya’s sword knocking her lights out.”​

~ * * * ~​

“When she awoke, all she could feel was a dreadful ringing buzz in her skull, the scent of damp mildew flooded her nose with the cold of decay and misery. In the dim light she could make out Fasion, also laying out on the floor. She made to stir him, only to find that they had bled him out while attempting to make him squeal. Apparently he took his secrets to the grave.”

“I’m more surprised you did not just teleport away from the situation, honestly.”

“Aah, she had not yet honed her skill to that degree, sharp one. She was young and inexperienced in that regard- not yet a Nightingale. This one would have to make due with picking the lock to her door-”

Demetri caught her playful tail as it swished across his knees under the table, and gave it a gentle tug, as if to say ‘I’ve caught you now’. “Nightingale, you’ve said it before, sugar. Is this one of those ‘khajiiti merchant lord’ titles?”

She chortled, pulling her tail free to tease his thighs again. “This one is afraid that the curious Shadow has not earned that story yet, only this one’s closest confidants get to find that one out... But it should suffice to say that Raz loyally served his Queen, whereas Ra’tima-dro faithfully served her Gods.”

Demetri’s handsome mouth tilted into a slightly frustrated, mostly determined half-scowl, and he downed the last of his booze. “You really know how to get a man hooked, don’t you sweetheart~? I guess I’ll simply have to play along with your demands~”

He earned himself a chuff before she continued. “In the dark, a voice called out to her, ‘pssst, wake up sleepy kitten, now is no time to take a nap!’ Raz had found her, and was now picking the lock to the cell door, bright moons bless her, she was so glad to see his fuzzy face- not to mention she had about four hundred questions for the man! She demanded answers, she had put her life on the line multiple times by this point, all in the efforts of helping him. She thought she deserved something after all, he was clearly not just some simple khajiit doing his humble service to Queen Ayrenn.

Finally, he relented, and he gave up a few secrets. Raz admitted that he was an ‘Eye of the Queen’, a secret agent and highly trusted confidant of Ayrenn. He also admitted that he was primarily searching for his friend, who was dead beside her- so it was just a happy bonus that he had managed to find her. It certainly struck confidence into her heart...” Her tone was clearly sarcastic.

“Handsome Raz wanted her to sneak back into town and meet with a contact of his, get a disguise, and help to stop the attempt from happening.”

“Why couldn’t this oh-so ‘handsome’ Razum-dar just warn the Queen and evacuate her?”

Ra looked down into her mug, eyeing how empty it looked with only a single sip left. “Raz’s face was far too recognizable. They knew that he was a near invisible agent of the Queen’s will, and they knew that he handled more morbid affairs. If he approached her then the entire court would go into a panicked speculation about what was happening. A nest of snakes is far more dangerous when they scatter. You want them to think that they have the advantage, get them to relax their guard so that the plan does not change at the last second on you.

This one needed to strike fast and true. Luckily, this one had smuggled questionable cargo in the area before- she knew of a secret passageway under the city that led into the cellar of the temple- Demetri would not believe what these priests were willing to pay for crates of regulated import wines, especially at a good price~”

The rogue decided to play along with a prod to test her knowledge. “And what is a good price~?”

“One that is reliable, consistent, and undercuts the competition while still padding your pockets~ This one had a rule in business with her clients: don’t ask. They get their request, not an interrogation. They don’t need to know where or how, just that they got their shipment on time. This sly thief distracts her with his questions though~

As she was saying: she rushed through the illicit tunnels, every moment built up the dread in her chest as she clung to each shadow. Ra was not lying when she said she cared little for high politics, but she would be lying to say that the idea of this mythologized young queen who walked fairly and equally amongst drenamer and khajiit was not appealing, hopeful even. This one knew that she would regret the Queen dying before she could meet her, and knew that she had to find out if the rumors of her just heart and mind where true.

After all, any open-minded mer that earned the scorn of their racist counterparts were good in Ra’s book!”

“The enemy of your enemy is your friend.” Demetri gave a slight dip of his head, recognizing her logic.

“Aye, exactly sharp-claws~ Thankfully now that the moons had risen, lady luck was on her side once again. This one managed to find the Queen’s party just before they had entered the temple for the speech. It almost got her impaled by the Battlereeve, Urcelmo, but the Queen had overheard this one mention Raz’s name and decided that Ra’tima-dro’s warning was worthy of trust.

Ra’tima and the Battlereeve were charged with investigating the gods-forsaken temple. We rushed inside, and found the Queen’s Steward lying in the middle of the floor, bleeding out and covered in fresh bruising, trying to drag herself to the door. Eminwe was her name, this one finally remembers. She was crying out a warning, trying to say something about Astanya and the Veiled Heritance, and apologizing for failing to stop them- then a flaming arrow pierced clean through her throat to the other side and gave her a second smile.

Urcelmo rushed out to Eminwe, and he clutched her close- this one did not know their history or relationship, only that it was popular for erotic writers of the Dominion to feature the Battlereeve and the Queen romantically lusting after each other... But she could swear a different type of fire burned in the alimeri man’s eyes as we faced down Astanya’s lackeys together. She recognized that fire anywhere, it’s that same fire that burns as an ember deep inside of one’s chest. Vengeance, and revenge. This one was quick, using her finesse and agility to outwit her attackers, but Urcelmo was strong and steadfast. He wove spells of lightning and thunder in between devastating maul strikes.

Together we made quick work of the assassins, and soon Astanya herself jumped from her perch to try cutting us down. She wanted to silence us just for our apparent hubris alone, how could we not understand that she was making the world right and just in her efforts to replace the ‘false queen’ Ayrenn? Captain Astanya was deluded, and miserably hateful. She legitimately believed that the other races brushing political shoulders with the Alimer would bring about the corruption and fall of her people. She was totally beyond convincing otherwise, and the woman had cast her dice in with the wrong lot.

This one spares no patience or sympathy for supremacist, racist fools. If there is one thing Demetri should never forget about this one, it is that fact alone.

We disposed of the traitor. In all honesty, it felt more like she threw herself at our blades in order to die. This one thinks Astanya knew the shame would be too great to bear if she survived to be thrown in prison. She would go from walking with her nose high, to being stripped of all her worldly possessions and put through the misery they subjected poor Fasion to.” Ra chuckled, softly but smugly. “Perhaps this one would have to agree that death in battle was better than wasting away in an alimer dungeon forever.”

The khajiit finished the very last of her drink, setting the cup down in exactly the same spot with a distinct clack. “Naturally the Queen wanted to know what we’d found in our ‘investigation’. Queen Ayrenn, she was a beautiful woman. Tall, with a gentle but firm voice and platinum pale hair. This one found herself effortlessly drawn to the Queen, eager to listen to the music of her voice.

Captain Astanya had called her a traitor to her people, to everyone. Captain Astanya had been so wrong yet again. The Queen was most impressed by this one’s sleek work and her efforts in Mistral, so impressed that the Queen asked her to become one of her Eyes, and work alongside the handsome Raz.”

“And you said yes?”

“This one needed time to consider the offer. Being some official government secret agent sounded... Fun, yes, but it was also far from her obligations with her guild. And this one had never been very involved in grand politics or vast sprawling plots spanning all of Tamriel. It was a lot to consider for a young woman, a lot of new possibilities and responsibilities to prematurely gray her well-kempt braids.

... Of course, Raz found this one about four tankards deep at the Inn, trying to drink her stresses away for the night. It had been a long week since we had met, after all.”

“And I suppose he, ‘found a way to convince’ you, darling~?”

The gray leopardess grinned wide at him, their boots half tangled together under the table in their little tit-for-tat body-banter they played at. Her coy tail wiggled to betray her excitement. “Of course~ That fragrant khajiit was always so persuasive, he had a way with his words and hands, and- he was pleased with the idea of working alongside this one, said she showed lots of promise. She wanted to learn all she could from the irresistible man. You could say the job came with quite a list of wonderful perks, including certain protections and accommodations should one have to step outside of civilian law.

The next day, she found herself effectively knighted by the Queen- something she is fully expecting to repeat with King Gilgamesh when she arrives back in Uruk. Ambitious, yes? This one enjoys the climb.”

“But,” she waved down the giant Gerudo, Lolomi, ordering another round for her and the Shadow, “that is where this story ends for now..... Now, he must tell her a story!” She leaned forward, chest pressed against her forearms as she took her turn to peer eagerly at the handsome Demetri Malius. "Regale her with something impressive, oh sweet-tailed thief of virtue~"​

 

[Demetri Malius]

A silence hung in the air as Demetri stroked his beard. “Ah, I suppose it is my turn to tell a tale then, though I do not know if I can claim for it to be as daring and important as protecting a queen.” he smirked and gave a quick chuckle.

“I can, however, tell you the tale of the ship that I had earned on Opealon. When I ran with a crew of pirates for fame and fortune.” He raised his glass and took a sip of drink before he followed with a remark, “And we made plenty of both!”

“Well, sleek-one, do not keep her waiting. Tell her this story of yours~” The thump of her tail wagging against the seat was audible.

“Aye- I mean- of course!” He cleared his throat. “It all started when I first joined a pirate crew on Opealon. I sought out a new life for myself that properly put my skills to the test, and I more than flourished on the deck sailing sky and sea.” He paused for a moment. “Well, the sea came first at least, hard to get on one of the sky ships unless you had someone who could vouch for you, and I came through with nothing but the skills I had learned in my life and my rapier on my hip.“

“Ah, Opealon. She is dreadfully familiar with their brand of arcana-phobia. Would he believe that she and her tal arrived into the Crossroads there?”

“The skylanders are a nuisance on their best days.“ He shrugged casually before continuing, “but the skies I will save for a later story. For now, it was easy pickings along the land. My arcane trickery had to take a backseat for my journey on this world, as any little sniff of magic in Opealon will earn you so much scorn that you can feel the glare from the bureaucrats above long before you caught sight of their islands. Along with being the priority target for any law enforcement if they caught wind of ye.” He cleared his throat again, trying to stop the dialect escaping him.

The cathay shot him a playful look, certainly noticing his accent and dialect slipping as he reminisced. She murred, rapping her clawed digits against the table as she leaned in to tease him. For a moment, her khajiiti accent dropped, taking on the same lilt as the redguard and breton corsairs and pirates of Hew’s Bane. “Ahoy, Captain Malius~ Shall we set course for the nearest cove to lay low and avoid those bilge-swilling Jack Ketch’ers~?” She chuckled, sticking her tongue out at him.

The rogue rolled his eyes with a scoffed smirk, prattling his own fingers across the table top to emphasize his words. “It didn’t take long for me to have to start jumping ships, as each captain’s eye came to watch over me. Many feared that I would take their place, and rightfully so. As I soon showed with the crew of the Felled Dame. In an effort to sway the crew back to her, the captain pridefully brought us along the more riskier shores.”

“It was a terrible decision, but as they say, never interrupt your enemy when they are making a fool of themselves. Of course, in hindsight, it may have saved them from being thrown into the rocks when the ship was nearly thrashed against the teeth of the Devil’s Mouth.” He shook his head and sighed as he conjured up an illusory projection of all of the stone spikes that reared above the waters. The images danced above his nimble digits, puppeteered expertly by years of practice. A well made galleon bobbled on the rough and dark opealonian oceans, dangerously close to being battered against the ragged shores. The nightingale before him watched intently as he painted the picture exquisitely.

“One wrong turn of the wheel would doom us all, and there was not much time to do anything besides help the crew steer the ship clear of the rock crags.” He nodded with a bit of bravado, spreading his arms across his vision as if he was actually there, stretching the illusion to fit the table that was his stage. Waves swept over the decks of the galley, threatening to smash it and flood the lower decks. Roiling gray storm clouds sent tiny shots of lighting and snapping thunder claps down, pelting the boat with harsh rains and winds. His hand snaked around pathways along the cliffs he’d constructed, the minute flicks of his fingers guiding the miniature ship into a calmer inner lagoon. The trickster watched his audience closely, careful to sneak the glances in, and curious to catch her reactions to his little display. He smirked broadly when he saw her captivated, her chin leaned in her palm as her dilated eyes amused themselves on his projection.

“We barely made it to the isle in the center, the Captain having been swept into the briny depths and lost to the sea during the storm’s battering. Not many would dare venture to the Devil’s Mouth on a normal day, least without a ship that could break its bond with the blue, let alone during a storm. However, this made it the perfect stash for treasure and safety from hunters and the like. We waited there for three days, seeing if our former Captain would show.” He held up three fingers and shook them, displaying the impatience he had felt while waiting around.

“We spent that time celebrating our survival, and chasing down whatever loot we could find. There were enough fools that died there after surviving their own shipwreck, having buried their treasure shallower than a grave before finding their own.” He shook his head again, the distant sound of crashing waves, far off sea shanties and the warm crackling of fire filled the space between them- Ra would almost swear she could smell salt in the air as Demetri continued. “We were lucky, and the crew saw to it that when the captain did not show up on the third day that I would take her place. We took to the sea nice and slow- sails up as it took at least two hours for us to leave- but I wasn’t risking everything we just earned for some speedy getaway.

That was until we saw the captain, afloat on some driftwood in front of us. We dragged her back up, for which she thanked us, but the crew had already been set on their decision. They asked that I continue to lead the crew.

She was furious of course, to which she stormed into the captain’s quarters and returned with a set of pistols. She called for a duel.”

“She wanted to duel you over the crew’s mutiny?” The khajiit scoffed, as if she couldn’t see the point of it.

He hummed an affirmative. “Pirates don’t have much as far as codes go, but duels have always been an honorable way to solve disputes. Of course, I had to participate. I had no intention of winning the duel, as I knew that she would be shorted for the leadership anyways, but I figured I would test her loyalty as she would mine.”

“As we took our ten paces from the line, I created a backup plan. It was customary to not actually kill your opponent, unless the duel was personal.” He conjured up a replica pistol in a subtle roll of blue magic, holding it raised so the barrel was parallel to his face and the muzzle pointed to the ceiling. “Though it wasn’t personal for me, she may have already known that she had lost her position, even if she had won. It was hard to respect a Captain who seemed willing to run you aground in a desperate attempt to preserve power.”

The daring swashbuckler quickly extended his arm across the table, smirking devilishly as he closed one eye and lazily looked down-sights at the feline, as if taking aim. He mocked a stock ‘bang’ of a gunshot, twirling the false handgun all about his fingers and clutching his chest dramatically “When the call was made to turn and shoot, I watched as the bullet passed into my chest- at least that of my illusion, before I stepped into its place and returned the shot in kind.”

“From then on I became the Ghost of the Felled Dame. My crew was fortunately underexposed to magic and blamed the event on the paranormal. They looked at me with fear and awe, and in turn I showed them riches and a reputation to rival the pirates of the sky.“

He sat back with a longing sigh, content with himself and his storytelling. His silver eyes studied her, and she returned the stare equally, her fuzzy face deadpan before a smirk crept across her black lips.

“What?” Demetri shot as he cocked an inquisitive brow at her. Knowing her, she was probably about to say somethi-

“This one just can’t help but wonder if he went on to continue making a habit of earning women's scorn~?”

He shrugged, dispelling the illusion from the table with a flick of his wrist, “not my fault if their pride refused to let them back down, kitten~ I am simply a deliverer of hubris~”

“And a real lady killer~” The khajiiti quipped with a blithe chuckle, ordering them another round of drinks.

“Aye darlin’, but only after they try to kill me first.”

“Aah, Ratima-dro should count herself so lucky that he did not seek revenge on her then, yes~?” Her tone was bemused as she reached to her side to retrieve something from that little beastling of a satchel. “But maybe, he really is smart like her, and actually has that gut instinct he boasted about last night.”

She held up a burlap sack, dangling it from across the table and bouncing its contents with an unmistakable jingle-jangle of coinage. She tilted her head and withdrew her phone, setting it on the table and tapping the black screen with her nail. “Payment for the hard work tonight, courtesy of the Dusty Flagon~ Does he prefer cash, or credit?”

He grinned like a downright jackal, shrugging and gesturing wide with his hands before planting his palms on the table. “Money is money, what difference does it make? Exchange is easy in the crossroads after all, but I will take credit if it means getting your number, kitten~”

 

[Masahir N'air]

Ra’tima studied him for a moment, then smirked. What a sly, smooth talking man- she almost wanted to give him her number, but dismissed it with a chuckle. “Aah, varzeva, so sleek with your words.” She shook her head, sliding the hefty pouch across the table. “But she thinks that her personal number is worth something in exchange.”

Demetri moved the coin pouch closer, a bit surprised by the weight and, well- he wasn’t exactly shocked, but he still found himself surprised by the ease of strength hidden in that small frame of hers. He pulled the knot securing the mouth of the bag, undoing the cord so he could peek inside. Minted coins glimmered back at him in silver and gold before he tied the burlap closed, making it vanish in a poof of pale blue light. The deviant man glanced up to the cathay with a smile. “And what is that number of yours worth, darling?”

“An answer, of course. An agreement~” She purred, earning a narrow-eyed, eyebrow quirked look from the Shadow.

“An agreement of what sort?” Came his skeptical inquiry.

“What we discussed in that little mousey hole-in-the-wall of yours. The talk of long term employment and business with each other.”

He batted his hand, just slightly dismissively. “What is it with you and bringing up work while drinking, sweetheart?”

“Money never sleeps, Shadow, and neither does this one. She will not let a few drinks keep her from her coin~ ... But if he must find blame, then blame it on her being a high-functioning alcoholic at one point. One learns to work through situations, despite the booze.”

“And the money you just gave me darling, was that a bribe~?” He teased, half-jokingly, half serious.

She paused, her smirk growing into a grin. “No, sweetheart, consider it... an assurance for the sake of trust.”

“Trust?” Demetri’s tone was an interesting one, the attentive khajiiti would note, a mix of curiosity and incredulity, as if he was saying ‘really now?’. He still seemed more than willing enough to humor whatever she was about to elaborate on.

“That this one pays her people well, obviously. That working with her was as lucrative as she promised, that she doesn’t let debts sit.” Ra laughed. “Hopefully the sight of shinies soothes any of the discomfort our antics with the guard might have caused him.”

“Ah yes, money does have a way of making things more palatable.” He conceded easily, visibly relaxing on his side of the enclosed booth. “You seem to have a lot of it, so why not pay the lapdog’s bail and be done with it, simple and easy?”

She leaned across the table, speaking low and intensely now. “Demetri, we both know that talent like ours? It is rare among the crowded masses. ... You remember when this one spoke of being a Queen of her own people? She was a Queen of Thieves.” The felide quirked a dark brow at him and plucked his calloused hand from its spot on the table to hold it palm up. She traced a delicate path along the lines of his palm and tilted her head at him.

“Gonna read my future, darling~?” He quipped, only to give a gasped hiss of confused pain when she suddenly pinched the awkward, tender flesh between his thumb and index finger. How pinching that spot could manage to feel so bad and yet so oddly relieving at the same time escaped beyond his minor understanding of anatomy, especially when he felt that strange tension deep in his wrist.

“Just because this one is a traveling merchant does not mean she practices the divinities or mysticism, varzeva~” Ratima let up, and the rogue rubbed at the crook of his thumb. “Before she arrived on the humid Opealon, she had been plucked from her home by a childish, sneering god. He snatched this one away from her Guild, her life and home. She was at the top of her world, enjoying the fruits of her labors and then-” She snapped her fingers, too far into her cup to care that she was laying across the table. “Kerpoof!”

“Cruel gods.” The thief remarked, having finally gotten his hand to stop twinging.

Ra nodded. “Mhmm, cruel gods indeed, sleek-one. She was a very well respected and connected guildmaster, she rescued her guild once from the Iron Wheel, then rebuilt it anew in Skyrim- only for it to be snatched from her. ... And now you go and pull her back out of retirement from her old ways, slinking around in the dark of the night.”

“It seems that I have a knack for encouraging women into a life of temptation~” He smarmed, giving her a wink and blowing a kiss. “Is this the part where you ask me to work under you, darlin’~?”

She laughed, rasping in her chuckles as she quieted into a more serious voice. “No, no sharp-one. You just told me your history serving as ‘second-in-command’, you are too ambitious to just be a ‘right hand’, too quick and sharp to be confined to such limits. Besides, she figures... He cannot usurp a position that he already has~ He would be equal to her in this endeavor, so what would he say to that offer? One where we go fifty-fifty, found this guild together and show these Crossroads why they should fear those that lurk in the shadows.” Her excitement was clear and palpable as her tail flicked back and forth. “Tonight was just the first steps, she already gave that Tabaxi that we saved a job and a place to shelter.”

“Ah, lucky him. If I had known that the prerequisite to your generosity was having you rescue me from jail, well... I might have just hidden in the brig.” He shrugged his eyebrows up with a snide smirk and swigged his drink.

“It certainly would have made him come across far less threatening, she will give him that. Why? Does he want her to apologize to him for being so mean five moons ago~?”

Demetri rolled his eyes and gave a little huff, then smirked back at her, reaching up and holding her cheek in his hand. ”Ah sugar, the way you handled me back on Opealon did nothing but make my heart race with the thrill~” He delicately touched his fingers to his chest. “Imagine my excitement when it turned out you would end up being so interesting... But five months is a long time. I already have a crew, what about them?”

Ra shrugged as if it was a nonpoint. “And this one has hired her own people as well. Keep them under you, Ra’tima-dro has no need to poach your employees, sleek-one.”

“You hired them all, what, like the guard-dog on a leash?” He snickered impishly, gesturing over to Lucien, who was desperately trying to avoid physical contact with Tia- and failing miserably. He held his hands up innocently when his sass earned him a glare and flattened ears. “Okay- okay, no need to go and get sensitive now.”

“Is the Shadow going to answer her, or not? Right now the only skill he is proving to her is his skill in drunken rambling.” Her tone was nearly deadpan, just a small bit of annoyance coming through.

The roguish man sighed, rolling his eyes. “You really don’t know how to have fun sometimes, pretty kitty. Remember, you have been the one to order my drinks tonight. Can you really blame me for not letting them go to waste~?” He simply became more dramatic as she continued to deadpan him. With a snap of his fingers and a wave of a hand, he was dressed in silver chainmail and polished knightly plate. “Oh yes, great Queen of Thieves, I will serve as your valiant knight of nigh-”

She darted her hand forward and grabbed his chin, bringing him in for a kiss on her terms. She leaned into it, asserting herself and demanding his quiet compliance. Her tongue played on his lips between teasing nibbles, her lithe fingers finding their home tangled in his beard. Eventually she pulled back, her husky voice had an edge of danger to its playful lilt. “Demetri, we both know you have better things to do with that talented mouth of yours than just piss her off~”

He hmmed a warm laugh, “as I said last night darlin’, we have a mutually beneficial arrangement and understanding between us~”​

 

[Masahir N'air]

“So kitten, I godda ask... what’s your shadow stuff all’bout?”

Ra’tima-dro cocked a brow. “Shadow stuff?” She was now on his side of the booth, close against his arm like a cat rubbing its flank against a familiar person.

“Aw com’on now, you don’t hafda play coy with me sweetheart. We both know yur usin’ some sorda magic when you do yur whole-” He brought his hands up, conjuring a miniature projection of the khajiiti woman poofing from place to place in puffs of black smoke.

“Ah... She could just say that she is a highly talented thief, and has been well rewarded for her efforts~” Ra murred, playfully, rolling her eyes and sipping at her cup of water.

“What, didya lift some enchanted gear~?” Earlier while helping her to get comfortable he hadn’t felt anything distinctly magical about her dark leathers. The drunk rogue wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in against him, resting his hand at the top of her tail on her lower back.

She chuckled, easily leaning into the attention. “No, varzeva~ that set is only donned on special occasions.”

Demetri raised a brow at her for a second, then relaxed into a broad jackal-like grin. “We talkin’ a full leather catsuit or- Ow!” He winced melodramatically when she gave him a sharp little jab in his upper arm. He rubbed at the sore spot for a moment. “Don’t be cruel now darlin’~”

“Oh, she thought he liked it when she was mean to him~ Didn’t it make his heart race with the thrill~?” The feline sassed back playfully.

“Well, I suppose I’m a bit guilty, aren’t I~?” He chuckled warmly before leaning down and pulling her in for a kiss. This time she didn't move away from his drink-emboldened amorous attempt at affection, enjoying the twang of sweet mead that lingered on his breath and tongue. He gave a crooked half-smirk as they broke their connection, and tsk'd lowly. "But you're guilty too, kitten~"

"Guilty? Guilty of what?" She inquired softly, playing along as he prattled playful fingers on the curve of her rump.

He gave an amused snort, as if the answer was obvious and clear as the sun in the sky. “Of bein’a quicker study than you let on~ How am I s’pposed to be your charming ‘face’ if I ‘ave no clue what yer capable of~?” The miniature projection of the feline crossed her arms and cocked her hip to the side as if in agreement with the man, causing Ra to give a big roll of her eyes and bat her hands at the illusion, which vanished in another puff of black smoke.

“Was all of last night not enough of an example to her sleek skills and talents?"

"I'm simply dyin' of curiosity, sweetheart~"

Ra scoffed, rolling her eyes with an amused smile. "This one thinks he just wants to know the cards up her sleeves... Well,” she started in her corrections, deigning him worthy of the information, “first of all, she does not vanish in a cloud of shadow.”

“Then why don’t you go ahead and educate me, darlin’?” He was quick to interject, earning a teasing pinch at his side that made him jolt from the tickle.

“Maybe she will if he stops interrupting her, yes~?” She chuckled blithely. “This one is a champion of the lunar lattice, and a faithful servant of the goddess Noctra.”

“Aye, heard you mention her a few times before, somethin’ ‘bout nightin’gales, right?”

"Yes. Noctra is known as the daedric prince of the night, keeper of mysteries, and the ultimate queen of shadows. Many a-thief also know her well as the Lady of Fortune and Luck herself~” She raised a hand above the table, twirling a gold piece around her fingers before flicking her thumb up and sending the coin spinning in the air. It tumbled back down to the table top, miraculously landing perfectly on its edge with no assistance. Demetri shot her a surprised look, so she tossed the gold to him as she continued. “This one's devoted service has earned her many blessings and boons, one of which is the ability to go completely unnoticed. Your untrained human eyes can only grasp it as poofing around, but it is a bit more complicated than a translocation spell or scroll."

“I’m sure you’re a good teacher, I’ll catch on quickly...” The rogue was busy playing with the coin, attempting to replicate what she’d just done though he found it was a fair bit more difficult than she’d made it look. “I do know that whatever you did in that warehouse wasn’ jus’ a common cloaking spell.”

Suddenly she was squatting on the table in front of him, pinning her coin flat against the wooden top with a single claw. “Yes.” She agreed dryly, snapping him out of his slight distraction as he realized that she’d moved. His silver eyes studied her keenly, raking down her smugly grinning face. If he was startled or unsettled, he did a good job at hiding it.

“See, Shadow? No smoke.” Her grin pulled to one side as she chuckled. “Do people usually notice the alley cat skulking past their feet as they walk? What about the leperous beggar huddled against the side of a building?”

Malius pondered for a moment, never taking his eyes off her as his drunken thoughts settled. “No, I suppose most are blind to the more mundane happenin’s around themselves. So, what? You jus’ take advantage of their lack'a perception?”

“Partially.” She scooted his mug closer to him, making it apparent that she expected him to work on finishing it.

“Partially?” He pried, clearly dissatisfied with only that information, before downing a gulp of refreshingly cold water from his cup.

“What you saw in the warehouse was three-fourths practice and skill, one-part blessing. As a khajiit, this one is already gifted in the art of slipping-by-unnoticed~ A senche-lioness is born instinctually understanding how to prowl during her ambushes, she merely hones this skill with experience and prays to the moons for luck. Khajiiti are much the same.”

“And what about at the jailhouse, sugar~? You didn't come through the vents like me, and you beat me there by long enough to knock that guard. Don’t tell me that was nothing but,” he made air quotes with his fingers, “natural ‘skill and instinct’ now~”

Ra’tima remained silent and perfectly still for a long moment, not even her tail twitched. It was as if she was deep in thought, petrified into a statue while she contemplated how to answer the thief. Eventually she smirked deviously. “Does he really want to know how that particular skill works~? He may not like what he learns, then again... The Shadow strikes her as a man with a particular lack of risk aversion. Purrhaps the darkness that stains him will find good company where she leads him.”

She extended her arm, offering her hand out to him. “If he is so curious, he will take her hand and pay attention- be careful though... This may be a point of no return~” The merchant warned with an ominous laugh.

He seemed to hesitate for just a moment, shooting her a look while his hand hung in the air above hers. Ra quickly answered his uncertainty, grabbing his wrist and pulling him in close.

“We will go to the Evergloam.” Was the last thing he caught before everything suddenly shifted with a sickening lurch.

It was terribly dark, wherever they were, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dim purples and blues that illuminated the environment. The strange, shadowy shapes of gnarled trees reached up to the pale skies with twisted branches, searching for a sun that would never rise. All around him the echoes of crow caws sounded, and in the distance he eventually made out the shape of a dark, crumbling castle or fort... For a moment, he wondered if trusting the cat had been worth it, or if he’d walked himself into some sort of demented magic-prison.

“Be careful here Varzeva,” Her teasing voice sounded from somewhere to his left, assuaging his worries. “There are shadows far bigger and deeper than you here in the Evergloam~”

He spun to face the direction her voice had come from but saw nothing.

“Including: me~” This time her murring purr was behind him, to where his right was originally. He couldn’t help but smirk. She was playing with him- but this place...

“Hide and seek? From such a serious assassin~?” Demetri teased back, idly. He waved his fingers through the air, smirking while he formed a small strip of light to illuminate the path at his feet. A threatening hiss sounded behind him, and he turned to catch her by the wrist and pull her to where he could actually see... “You said we were going to yer room but this wasn’ what I was expecting when you called yerself ‘stained black’- honestly I was thinkin’ you meant it more like a ‘goth girlfriend’ type’a deal, sweetheart~”

Even in the illusory light, her form was cloaked in a stubborn pitch black shadow and inky leather. Only her eyes caught the glint, glowing pale silver from under her leather hood like that of a ghastly shade or revenant. She looked like a nightmare, especially with how the darkness clung around her, wrapping itself around her form with the familiarity of an old lover. Shadows dripped and shifted all about her, threatening to consume whatever came a little too close. The rogue found himself believing that she could very well be someone’s own personal night terror if they dared to cross her.

The feline wrenched her arm back, shielding her face from the light as if it caused her a deep discomfort. “She said Evergloam, not 'her room', dull-claws! Dispel that right now if you know what’s good for you, Malius. The Evergloam does not take kindly to the light that chases the shadows away.”

“Calm down babe, only people that can see it are me and you-”

“Does he not have a spell or spectacles of dark vision?” She hissed with a bit of exasperation. “Maybe that is what he should have stolen from the goblins instead of pocket lint.”

“I'll just go ‘head and put it on my check list, hun.” Demetri rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, a pair of shades springing into existence on her face. “Nice catsuit, by the way, but what is this place? You called it- what? The Everbloom?”

She scowled, at first yanking the sunglasses from her face in indignant defiance before sighing and settling down enough to put them back on. "Yes, the Evergloam, it is Noctra's personal plane of Oblivion. It is where the shadows flee to when the morning sun rises to beat them back, hence why light is most offensive. Also, this is not a catsuit Demetri, this is Nightingale leather, blacker than night and blessed by the very hand of the enigmatic Mistress of Mysteries herself."

"What a title~" he teased with only the slightest bit of smarm. "So, what? You come through here e'ery time you jump around?"

"Yes. Most intriguing, is it not? And this is only a small sampling of the gifts Noctra bestows on her devoted." He quirked a sharp brow, so she continued, "She is the lady of luck, sleek one. When you are out picking locks in the night and a cloud rolls over the moon to hide you from the passing guards, that is her influence. When your last lockpick snaps at the worst possible time, that is also her influence. She is within every shadow, every urge to heist, she is the terror waiting in dead end alleyways, and the whispers that send shivers down your spine. Ur-dra, the Eldest Spirit, Mother of Shadows..." She waved her hands casually. “You get the picture, no?”

“Mother of all shadows? Should I start calling her ‘mom’ then~?” He chuckled, unphased by her lack of humor in the regard. “Oh come on, lighten up kitten~”

“Lighten up? That's a bit hard to do since we are in the shadow-realm.” Ra dismissed off-handedly, caring little for his blithe amusement in a land so grave and solemn.

Deme rolled his silver eyes. “It’s called a pun, darlin’.”

“Ah, it’s all fun and jokes until the shadows start laughing with you, Malius.”

“I think I’d be more worried if they stopped~” He responded. Ra raised her hand, as if to say something or correct him before shrugging and agreeing. The rogue paused for a moment, then gestured up and down her figure. “So is this your true form or is this just how you look in here? I mean, I don’t look like a shadow creature in here- I could if I wanted to, if it would help you feel a lil’ less self-conscious darlin’~”

Ratima-dro reeled back just a bit at his insinuation, her body language shifting noticeably- and not in a playful way. “What, does he think she is hideous like this? A freakish nightmare and horror?” Her voice was sharp and pointed, a defensive edge to it.

He put his hands up, as if in surrender. "Nothing like that, just wondering whether or not you might pop up like this outside of this realm of shadows~"

The cathay snorted indignantly, her spectral gaze never dropping from his face- as if she were studying him keenly, looking for any slips or mistakes. "And what if she does? Would he be bothered by it then?"

“Not at all~” He grinned broadly, flashing his perfect teeth.

The diminutive khajiiti woman relented, letting a long sigh drag past her lips. She held her arms out to either side in display, allowing Demetri to come closer and get a better look if he so wished. “In her original homeland, this one was born under the sign of the Shadow. As soon as she was old enough, she began to ply her talents under the watchful gaze of Noctra... It has... changed her over the years, yes. She thinks these changes have only served to make her better suited for dwelling in the night. Anywhere the shadows touch, and then some.” She smirked. “Highly fitting for the Aspect of Stealth, no~?”

Demetri nodded thoughtfully, curiously eyeing the raven crest at the center of her breast. His expression turned downright devious as he took his opportunity to grab her by the hand now. “You shared yours, now it’s only fair if I share my own talents, darlin’~”​

 

[Masahir N'air]

In the blink of an eye they found themselves back in Lolomi's tavern, almost exactly back to where they had been before slipping away into the Evergloam.

The khajiit looked down at her gray fuzzy hands, turning her palms over as if checking to make sure she was seeing everything correctly. She hadn't felt the familiar sudden rollercoaster-lurch in her gut that invaded her senses whenever she entered or exited Prince Noctra's personal slice of Oblivion... and yet she looked normal. She frowned, her expression shifting to suspicion at just what he had intended to show her- but her thoughts were interrupted as she scoffed sharply as she was jostled. Her ears flattened against her skull when two drunken revelers bumped into her, making their way to dance and merrymake by the performing bard.

The rogue watched her, a smug smirk on his lips as she moved about, curiously investigating the space. "Oh come on darlin'," he chimed as he strode to the bar, waggling his fingers playfully as if to beckon her along with him. He tossed a few coins onto the bar, catching the towering gerudo woman's attention.

Lolomi gave him a bit of a look before pocketing the coins. "Same as before?" She asked plainly.

Demetri leaned up on the counter and wiggled his brow at the feline 'merchant'. "Depends, does the pretty kitty want the same drink as before, or something different~?"

"What, is he deciding to treat her now~?" Ra’tima asked as she prowled up to him. Her eyes were sharp as she gazed at him, intense in their investigation.

He smirked in collected amusement, putting up his best poker face. "Well, I jus' found my way into such a nice li'l payday, and you covered my drinks before... well, before wha'ever Everbloom place we had the pleasure of visiting. I figure... why not return the favor since I'm in such a good mood tonight~"

Ra rewarded his apparent generosity with a wry smile as she moved up next to him. "The sweetest wine she's got." She answered the waiting gerudo.

Demetri rapped his fingers on the wood counter, smiling broadly as the drinks were retrieved and placed in front of them. "Gotta sweet tooth, darlin'?"

"Purrhaps she does. Why, is he planning to source her some candies next?" The cathay quipped with a dry chuckle, picking up her drink and sipping at the honeyed wine. She gave a pleased hum at the flavor and tilted her head slightly as she seemed to assess the finer notes, looking waaay up at the barkeep. "Was this aged in a maple barrel?"

Lolomi nodded gruffly, not bothering to look up from her task of polishing a glass spotless. "Yeah, s'from a vintner just outside of the city, along the river. Ages all his dessert wines in maple casks. Says it makes 'em more flavorful."

The charming Shadow had taken to observing the feline with a certain unnerving keenness, careful to watch each and every motion and movement she made with a devious giddiness building within his bodice. Her constant glancing about gave him a good challenge, between hiding his own covert interest and crafting a compelling experience she was keeping him on his toes.

He had remembered just how delightfully delicate and sweet that dessert wine had tasted, even if that night had faded from clarity.

Suddenly that sharp khajiiti found it suitable to rove again, plucking her drink from the bar. He pushed his back up off the edge of the counter, rolling his stocky shoulders and flicking his wrists up. He prowled behind her. When her ears flicked back he played up the sounds of the bard, of the drunks swaying and all the burbling conversations that melded together into nondescript gibberish and noise. It didn't matter that no one existed to dance the waltz, that where the false bard played was nothing but an empty patch of nowhere.

"Somethin' catch yer attention darlin'?" Demetri asked coyly as he brushed a teasing hand down Ra's arm, disguising another pull of the strings as she glanced up at him.

"Actually... yes~" She murred, idly swirling her half-finished goblet of wine. The thief gave her a quick, studious glance as she set the drink down on a table corner, abandoning it casually. Demetri’s silver eyes darted down, following her movements as she pulled her impish little mimic-satchel around to the front of her stomach and started searching around in it.

Damn. Had she so easily guessed at how his magic worked? He knew he would have to act, to do something- and fast, because he honestly had no clue what in the world she could pull out of that bag, what she’d focus on retrieving- if it worked like any other bag of holding. It wasn’t like he had exactly gotten to check when it snapped at his shadow-blessed fingers yesterday morning and threatened to permanently divorce him from his digits. She had backed him into a gamble he couldn’t possibly win, whether intentional or not- though he doubted it was by mistake.

He waved his hand through the air, prattling the fingers of his opposite hand on his side as he rested it on his hip, pulling the illusion back away from the satchel. In his drunkenness, the gap wobbled slightly, allowing just a bit of the Evergloam’s void to peek through.

Ra’tima-dro’s tail swished languidly, her body language unyielding in its secrets as he held his breath, waiting to see if she would notice the hapless mistake. The khajiit withdrew a black shawl, drawing it around her shoulders. “It is growing cold,” she said, again plucking her wine back up and taking a long drink from it. “This one wonders where the draft crept in from.”

The trickster thief smiled, sweeping his hands through the air in a broad but graceful, and somehow delicate, gesture towards the front door. “Why darlin’, that’s because it’s raining~” He smarmed, as if it was clearly so obvious... And as he spoke, she felt compelled to believe him, almost without question...

Almost.

"Rain, on the cloudless desert world?" She pondered aloud. She was certain that she would have heard the rain pitter-pattering against the thick stained glass windows and awnings, long before he would. After all, she had seen how unaware he’d been of the two jailbirds fleeing from the law the other night, seen the limitation of his human senses compared to her sleek khajiiti ears and nose.

"We're near the center of the disc, kitten, weather's different in these parts from that dust bowl, Uruk, that you call home..." He paused, wrapping an arm around her shoulders casually and giving her a flirty squeeze. “Why don’t you come watch the rain with me~?”

Ra was silent for a few seconds, her observant icy eyes were nearly painfully sharp as they raked across his face. He could practically feel her searching for a crack in the façade, a foothold to grab onto so she could prize it all apart. She suddenly smirked at him and purred, again setting her goblet down- this time on the top of a carved half-wall that divided the entryway from the sitting areas. “Oh, how romantic varzeva, it’s almost as if he’s wanting to impress her~”

Demetri chuckled, taking her words as permission to sweep her forwards and out onto the covered porch. There was a sense of relief that washed over him as the heavy wooden door clicked shut behind them and he allowed the illusion within to relax. Out here the wind and the rain were far easier for him to mimic, after all, he only had to play around with what she could reasonably see and hear. People hardly noticed the splatters of raindrops hitting the earth more than a few feet away, and in the dead of night one could get away with smudging how the distant palm trees wobbled in the downpour, even more so when cloaking it all with the hazy pale mist that hung about the ground.

They stood in silence for a few moments, the khajiit occasionally taking a long, deep breath and sniffing at the scent of the rain and wet grass. Her hands were braced on the railing as she peered out into the aimless night, then closed her eyes. The Shadow took the opportunity to gaze at her, to watch her enjoy the illusions he presented for her senses to take in, and felt a great sense of pride stir in his chest. This realm of shadows did nothing short of massively bolster his talents of skiamancy, and he found himself thoroughly enjoying that fact with a certain mischievous ease. After all, what else was such a deviant supposed to do when he suddenly found himself so invigorated?

The khajiiti merchant suddenly turned and approached the door, and yet again the thief found himself spinning on his heel to keep up. Was she already done with being outside? “What, don’t like the rain too much darlin’~?”

She half-turned towards him, putting a hand up and she reached for the doorknob. “Ah, she is just grabbing her drink sweet-one, there is no need to follow her like a puppy, she will be back in just one moment.” Ra spoke with a coy flick of her tail, slipping backwards through the doorway.

Demetri huffed, tossing his bangs back from his face with a determined scowl that furrowed his brow just slightly and raised his wrists. He flicked his hands back, inky shadows leaping from his fingertips like a marionettes' strings and racing across the scene.

The Evergloam was a realm made from a thick fabric of shadows, a paradise for a man stained as black as himself, a true purveyor of the dark and all its illicit little sweets. Here in this world of night he found his ability to sense nearly infinite, and in a way it made him feel expansive. He had a bird’s eye understanding as his shadowsense endlessly brushed gently against countless oddly shaped denizens and crumbling, root-bound ruins. Detecting how the cutthroat khajiit was moving about inside of the illusory tavern was fairly straight-forward, comparatively speaking.

He had to admit that she was making keeping up the illusion quite a challenge, and he was certain by this point that she was simply needling him to test the limits of his powers. He smirked, scoffing softly to himself as he tugged at the ‘cloth’ of his magic and shifted its texture so his partner in crime would see only what he wanted her to. It was fairly difficult, striking the wobbling balance between persuasion and force, especially when drunk- especially when he felt something strange roiling about in the darkness behind him.

The rogue found his attention faltering, split in twain between maintaining the façade, and the possible unknown-danger shuffling around. His focus instinctually fell onto the threat-

Ra’tima’s wry chuckling yanked him back to his immediate surroundings. She was standing in the open doorway, an amused smirk painted over her face as she simply stared at him. Demetri was posed with his hands up in the air, his fingers splayed out like some sort of mad genius of a puppet master and all dripping with the shadow cloaked about him.

Damn. Caught red (or was it black?) handed.

“Ah,” she tutted, looking him up and down. “Demetri, your shadows are hanging out. Careful, they might get cold flapping about in the wind so carelessly~”

He grinned broadly at her, like a cunning jackal flashing its teeth under the light of the moon, flicking his wrists back and letting all his little umbras jump back down the sleeves of his robes... And for a moment, the khajiit wondered if he could truly be trusted with such devious abilities of deception.

“Forgive me darlin’, I just couldn’t help but expose myself to you~” Demetri smarmed back, dispelling the illusion with a casual snap of his fingers. A wave of unease prickled across Ra’s skin, and suddenly the tavern was gone, along with the warmth, music and all of the weather he’d put so much effort into. "This realm of darkness's pretty sweet, all things considered, kitten. Whas's it take to come here more reg’larly~?"

The Nightingale simply laughed at him, garnering a taken-aback stare of confusion. "It will take much more than parlor tricks and charisma to earn that right, sweet-claws."

"So hard to impress. Fine. Then tell me I've at least 'earned the right' to know about that mysterious bird buried amongst your lovely, fuzzy bosom~" Demetri waggled a coy finger in a gesture to the crest in the center of her breastpiece. She was silent for a long moment. He drew close to her, reaching a hand down to brush his fingers along the edge of her inky hood. "Come'on pretty kitty... I think I earned something for that splendid li'l show I put on for you back there~ it's not exactly easy to pull the wool over such sharp senses, after all..."

"This one is Prince Noctra's champion, her Nightingale.” The khajiit remarked. “That is how she comes and goes freely from the Evergloam."

"And what's that take to accomplish, daily prayers and devotions?"

She cut her spectral eyes at his needling, impish tone. "Ha. No-"

"Ah, perhaps then heisted offerings tributed in her name at her squirreled away shrines?" He cut her off with a humorous tone.

She pursed her lips at him, but doubted his shadowsense was so fine of a grade that he'd be able to tell. He did notice the annoyed flick of her tail, however but thought it better to continue regardless.

"Oh, gods forbid she needs the help of my frisky li'l mortal hands to retrieve some lost relic~" he almost giggled at himself, bordering on reckless banter in his blithe amusement.

"He would have to manage to speak with her, and impress her." Ra stated tersely, her blackened tail swishing back and forth. "Noctra is not so easy to impress, he will find."

"Not so easy to impress, eh? What if I ask her nicely~? Charm her with my style?" He brushed his bangs from his face and shot the khajiit his best smolder, giving his bottom lip a sultry little tug before chuckling and throwing in some cheesy finger-guns for the added effect.

She scoffed out loud, shaking her head at his antics. “Is it reckless self-confidence, or vain arrogance that causes him to crow like a rooster at the morning sun, thinking a daedric prince will be smitten with him?”

“What, and you think she wouldn’t be? Look at me sweetheart, I’m a catch.”

“Hrm, the only thing he is catching will be disappointment.” She warned, taking her turn to jab at his inflated sense of ego.

“How does one go about talking to this mysterious shadow-momma anyways?”​

The khajiiti woman snapped a hand up in caution.​

“Ah, Malius she does not think that smar-”​

“I just call out to her right?” He asked in rhetoric as he plainly interrupted her. “This is her realm after all, it’s like knocking on the front door, or asking over the intercom.”​

“This one does not recco-”​

“Oh great Noctra!” He piped up, holding his arms out and looking up at where he figured the sky ought to be.​

“Demetri-!” Ra hissed.​

“Please take me as your willing, skilled, and very handsome Nightingale addition~ Oh please, mother of shadows and night~!” He called glibly into the void, smirking at Ra’s relatively passive attempts to hush him up. He knew his own worth. “Oh how I’d simply revel in all your mysteries, Lady of Enigma~!”

The darkness surrounding them fell oddly silent in every sense of the phrase. The rogue very quickly found himself feeling a pressing discomfort, as if great weights rested utop his shoulders and bared down on his frame.

“You stubborn jackass.” The nightingale growled through her teeth.

Suddenly a blinding flash of violet light ripped forth from the ground, sundering the earth in twain and throwing debris into the air as countless ravens and crows poured from the fissure. Out of the purple beam of light a fair skinned woman materialized, hair as dark as ink and robes of royal and golden hue spilling across her shapely form. Birds of the night balanced on each of her graceful arms, cawing ominously.

Demetri’s silver irises first took in the sharp features of the levitating woman’s face, then inadvertently dropped to fixate on the bare skin of her neck and collar bones, guided down and down further by the deep v-cut of her robes to her exposed cleavage and midriff. His face went from awed, to a flirty smolder as he let out a playful purr. “Mmm, now this is a Goddess I can get behind~”

Nocturnal simply gave the man a deadpan expression as she stared down at him, remarkably unamused at his shoulder and eyebrow wiggling. Her deep, husky voice seemed to boom all around him, as if coming from everywhere all at once, “You remind me of someone that my sister is far better acquainted with.” She remarked dismissively, now turning to look down her nose at Ra’tima.

“Nightingale, I expect you have good reason to bring such an oaf traipsing around the Evergloam.”

Ra picked herself up from her held kneel, unable to keep eye contact with the burning gaze of her goddess. The look she shot Demetri was understandably pissed. “Ah. Ehem- Yes, my Lady... This oaf was simply begging to see just a glimpse of your prowess and allure. She has worked with him and-”

“You think he shows promise.” Noctra cut the khajiit off, giving an amused hum as she waved a hand and effortlessly brought Demetri up into the air to look at him face-to-face. She pushed his hood back from his head with a roll of her wrist, studying him like one would size up a prime specimen of livestock. She stopped his woozy wobbling in the empty space with but a single motion, inspecting him with a painfully apathetic stare as if she were merely looking over an investment to gauge its true worth.

“So uh... Like what ya see, gorgeous?” The rogue managed from under the weight of her glower.

The goddess gave a very dry and short chuckle, almost a scoff, lifting a pair of lithe fingers to point at his forehead. “You make a fool of yourself before me as if it will win you trifles of amusement, when I need agents who take the bargain made with me seriously. You are not yet ready for the pact.” With a flick to his forehead, she sent the thief tumbling back into his proper plane of reality with a yelped squeak of pain and surprise.

Lady Nocturnal’s lips gave the softest quiver at the corners, tugging up just slightly before she again looked down to her most loyal nightingale. Noctra’s outline was fading, her form becoming more ephemeral as she departed. “Bring him back once he’s actually ready, won’t you?”



With a lurch Ra found herself back on the table they had originally been sitting at. She was crouched, as she had been when she pulled her idiot-partner into the Evergloam... Meanwhile Demetri was laid out on his back, sprawled across the wooden floor of the tavern and huffing to catch his breath. The impact had left him winded and dizzy in his drunken state, and had sobered him up in a fairly abrupt way. Curious revelers moved in around him, trying to figure out what in the name of the Arbiters had actually just happened, and how the rogue had come crashing to the floor out of thin air.

The sly khajiit climbed down off the table to fetch the thief from his prone position, offering him a strong arm and bracing as she helped pull him to his feet. He grabbed at his stomach, bending a bit at the waist as he slurred just a bit and leaned against his fuzzy support, “and that- folks- is my final ack-ft of the night! This han’some devil needs his sleep now.” He seemed to answer with a stagger, as if he had been putting on some show for them all, and they had simply managed to miss it.

Demetri dipped his head down, lowering his voice to a whisper as they walked towards the stairs and moved away from the other guests. “Remind me to get her number, yeah kitten?”

The khajiiti merchant rolled her eyes. “He is certainly stellar with first impressions all around. Did he not hear Lady Noctra’s opinion of him, or was he too busy ogling the assets of a goddess??” She scoffed.

“I couldn’t help but enjoy the cut of her robes~” The thief smarmed, earning himself a firm smack in the back of his head hard enough to make him flinch. “Ow!” He exclaimed, rubbing at the back of his sore noggin. “Come on, cut me some slack won’t you, babe. Already hit my head hard enough when she sent me landing on my arse.”

“Aww, poor dull claws.” She spat, ushering him up the stairs and towards their shared room. “Maybe he should learn to be more respectful of the gods he meets, before it earns him curses and condemnations. Now go, he should sleep off his liqueur before he makes a grander fool of himself.”

He gave a little dismissive wave of his hand and climbed the stairs quickly, pausing halfway to cast a flirty look at her.

“What.” Ra stated dryly, more than asked.

“Well... I was just hoping that you’d wanna join me in warming those cold sheets~” He teased with a careless grin before giving his bottom lip a needy little bite.

The feline stared hard at him from her place at the bottom of the stairs for a long moment, and he was utterly unflinching in maintaining that eye contact, as if holding out to the end would win him a prize for the sheer determination of the effort. She took a deep breath, shook her head, and sighed at the fool. He was nothing if not disarmingly amusing when he wanted to be. “She will have to see if she feels... In the mood after getting herself another drink. Wait for her, if you wish, varzeva.”

With a flash of movement she tossed him the key to their room and moved off to the bar, giving him no time to try weaseling anything else out of her. She knew that she wanted more of him, by the gods was he thrilling and exciting and new... She just had to keep her head clear and ask that towering barkeep a question before disappearing for the rest of the night.

Lolomi was polishing glasses at the bar, starting to clean up for the night and turn down the drunkest of her patrons. The tabaxian man, the lycan, and the obnoxious imperial woman had all already departed, slinking off to their own rooms... At least, Ra prayed that the lock on Lucien’s door would dissuade the terrible lockpicker known as Constanstia from further driving him up the proverbial wall.

“Lolomi, what is the sweetest wine you offer here at your tavern?”

“Eh?” The gerudo paused. “Not serving anything else tonight, sorry.”

Ra flashed a couple of gold pieces, more than enough to cover the hassle of a late drink, and fully caught the woman’s attention. “Ah... Gold makes all things easier, no? ... Now, about that wine.”

“Yes, yes, of course...” Lolomi mumbled, simply fetching a bottle and holding it out for the khajiiti woman to take.

Ra’tima gazed over the label. Sweet honeyed wine, local to Karim. She popped the cork on it and took a swig, uncaring that she probably looked like a total lush. “Ah, was this aged in a maple barrel?”

Lolomi nodded gruffly, not really bothering to look up from her task of polishing a glass spotless. She had a job to do and wanted to manage some sleep before her next shift. "Yeah, s'from a vintner just outside of the city, along the river.” She vaguely gestured towards the front of the tavern, in the direction of the river. “Ages all his dessert wines in maple casks. Says-”

“That it makes them more flavorful. Ah. She figured as such. This one used to work as a brewer, she was simply curious..." Ra'tima made to head up the stairs, her speckled tail swishing with pleasure as she made her ascent. "Thanks for the bottle."​