Love and Bounty

Chapter Nine: Blackblood Marauders

Barely a day had passed since Deeja and her egg-brothers first reached Skyrim's frigid shores. The vicious northern waters lapped at the coast and carried glaciers across the northern horizon, and blasts of icy winds from the Sea of Ghosts chilled Deeja to the bone. Her furs did little good for her dry and cracked scales. As the three Argonian migrants neared the gaping maw of Broken Oar Grotto, Galum-Jei's voice broke the wind-laden silence.

"This is the spot, brother?" he asked. "It doesn't look like much..."

"Hargar's band has fallen on tough times," Jaree-Ra explained. "And this hideout of theirs has seen better days."

Galum-Jei crossed his arms tight over his chest. That cloth shirt of his must have left him terribly cold. "Then why are we here? Couldn't we run our own scheme?"

Jaree-Ra scoffed. "Just the three of us? In lands such as these? Ha! Absolutely not." He wrung his hands and rubbed them together. They were all feeling the effects of this awful weather. "These Nords will chew us up and spit us out—you knew that when you boarded the ship with us, brother."

Galum-Jei showed his teeth. "Not like we had much of a choice."

"Then let's prove our home nest wrong," Jaree-Ra uttered. "Let's prove to them that our work will set us up well."

They never believed. As Jaree-Ra strengthened his glib, Galum-Jei bolstered his magic, and Deeja mastered the blade, their family tried to shepherd them down a simple path—one of mundane living, being as one with the Hist and the humming marshes of their swampy homeland. Ever since they were children, they yearned for something greater. They fought with sticks and rocks as they yearned for adventure and adrenaline, and their little village in the Archeon region did little to sate their appetite.

Deeja knew they would leave Black Marsh behind one day, but she never thought it would be like this.

"Who goes there?" a hearty voice called from within the cave maw. A rugged, leather-clad Nord with a shaved head stepped out of the gloom. The black vein tattoos snaking up his throat framed his long and dark goatee like grasping vines.

"I am Jaree-Ra," the eldest brother announced, flashing a glinting grin full of deadly teeth. "I've come to speak with Captain Hargar. We have business."

The Nord balked, his expression twisted with confusion as he eyed Galum-Jei and Deeja. "And who are these people?"

"My egg-siblings," Jaree-Ra retorted, the slightest grumble beneath his words. "Understand this, friend—I'm grateful for your gang's hospitality, but I'd like to speak with your captain, please."

The Nord scowled, but the disdain he wore on his face was betrayed by his smooth head pointing down the cave entrance. "Follow me. And keep your hands to yourselves."

While the winding tunnel of indeterminate stone provided respite from the gnashing wind, it did nothing for the chill in the air until firelight peeked around a jagged bend. They followed the light, and the cave opened up into a grand cavern. Scaffolding and platforms dotted the torch-lit chamber, the rumbling voices of the crowd before them challenged only by the rushing creek that extended far back into the caves. All eyes of the armored or robed Blackbloods, each bearing those same vein tattoos upon their necks, fell upon the three Argonians who entered.

Galum-Jei chuckled to himself. "I didn't expect a welcoming party."

Deeja snickered in reply.

Before the eldest sibling could comment, the chatter of the crowd fell quiet. A Nord in black leathers and furs emerged from the sea of people. He towered over all others. Each footstep thundered closer, his massive body pairing well with his powerful gait. Scars marred his shaved head like tally marks, his vein tattoos extending up to his cheekbones and pulled taut with the broad smile on his face. The siblings' escort shuffled away to join the crowd, the Captain's shadow looming over all three of his guests as he extended a hand.