Your POV
The past few months have been nothing short of insane. Quest after quest, mission after mission. Yet, here I am in Whiterun. Celebrating, for lack of a better term. Today, I retrieved the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, and I am still trying to come to terms with this idea of being a hero of sorts. So, celebrating doesn't seem like a fitting word; more or less, this is my calm before the storm. A fleeting moment of peace before I must go help or save another someone or something. I know I sound pitiful; I think I'm just tired of doing it all by myself. Even more so, doing it all only to be met with remarks about me being a Khajiit.
As I take my last swig of my bitter ale, I decide it best to leave. On my way out of the establishment, I hear the doors close behind me as I face the ground. Thousands of people I've saved or helped, and furthermore have been thanked by, but the real irony here is I may not even have one genuinely close friend. I mean I have surface level connections, from the Khajiit caravan whenever I run into them, to J'zargo at the College of Winterhold. There's just nobody I see often enough to build any connection with, and I think I've been lonely. Yes, that's why I'm so down. Maybe the ale has me feeling more emotional than usual.
Step by step I urge closer to Breezehome, but I'm stopped in my tracks by cultists. I yawn as they speak; setting them off. With a quick stab to the chests with the Blade of Woe, and a fireball cast here and there, they're goners. A letter on the ground catches my eye, and I'm quick to pick it off the dirt and read it. Miraak, Solstheim, false Dragonborn... well, I know what my next quest is! But first.. I need a cat nap.
Teldryn's POV
I crave adventure more than anything in this life. I've been at the Retching Netch all night for weeks sipping at my Sujamma, awaiting new faces. Yet, there are hardly any, and when there are, none of them have a taste for adventure. I don't have the coin myself to get off Solstheim, nor do I take too well to the thought of venturing out alone, but I am awfully displeased with it here. The ash. The ashspawn; wretched creatures.. Most days I help with smithing, and by nightfall I am at the same seat in the Retching Netch. Day by day, the same thing. It's boring, frankly.
I guess I should head to sleep quite soon, yes. I have another day of the same exact thing scheduled for tomorrow! How exciting..
Your POV
I arose from bed early in the morning hours, and days later I arrive at the docks to be on my way to Solstheim! Which, is right now. The way to Solstheim is peaceful; the waters are still and a darkened blue. I make no talk with the nords on the ship, and they make no attempt to speak with me either. Aside from the introduction before we left, and the coin I spent, I haven't even looked their way and they haven't looked mine. It gives you time to think when you speak less; and I'm realizing only now how much I despise it.
Just as my thoughts began driving me crazier, I see the docks at Raven Rock. It's late at night; it took a while to actually get here, and that's not even counting the days it took to reach the ship itself. By gods, I need a drink. I leave the ship, and ask a guard where the nearest tavern is. To which he pointed me in the direction of the "Retching Netch." Odd name, I guess? So, I make way for it.
Once inside, I immediately head to the counter and ask for a drink. Sujamma? Another odd sounding thing. I'm literally a cat though, so I don't complain. I turn my head, Sujamma in my furry hands, and make eye contact with a stranger adorned in Chitin armor. Well, I think we made eye contact—his entire face is covered, but his head is turned in my direction. I offer a nod, and he nods back then comes to join me. "Teldryn Sero, blade for hire. I'm the best swordsman in all of Morrowind, outlander." He gawks at himself, I chuckle, thinking of how J'zargo and this Teldryn Sero guy would interact if they had ever met. "What's so funny, outlander? Don't believe me?" I offer up a small smile and I wave my hand as to say no, "No, no, it's not that. You just remind me of a friend, is all."
"Should I take that as a compliment?"
"Depends.. are you bigoted against Khajiits?"
Teldryn laughs, "I'm a Dunmer like everyone else here, the nords don't like either of us. I'd rather learn than waste time hating someone for something they have no control over."
I nod, "So, best swordsman in all of Morrowind, hm?"
"At your service; provided you have the coin."
"Consider yourself hired, Teldryn."
YOU ARE READING
The Cat and the Elf
FanfictionDisclaimer: Art is not mine. This is a self-insert. Warning: Includes smut/lemon/possible angst. You, Khajiit and Dragonborn; Teldryn Sero, mercenary and Dunmer. As Dragonborn, you are of heroic nature; constantly doing quests, both big and sma...