I am but a servant of the Dread Lord (Skyrim Fanfic)

Chapter 1

I think it is best that I jot these lines of madness down on this paper. I feel it is best to write them down while the events are fresh in my mind.

I, was born in Elsweyr to two khajits, Alsuran, my father and Akeeti, my mother. My parents were nomads; I recall my ersatz residences boasting innumerable quaint little charms, permanence wasn't one though. The memories, I have of my homeland are fond. I still regress to those parts of my memories whenever I cannot sleep. They however are not worthy of adorning this narrative; the Aldermi incursion is. It was a bloody affair, as most sanguinary acts, purported with such barbarity tend to be. The atrocities, immortal in the works of the wizened, are omitted, but the culmination thus summarised: The province was separated into two nations, both of which are client states of the Aldmeri Dominion. Anequina to the North incorporates a desert like badlands fairly similar to that of Hammerfell, whilst to the South lies Pelletine, its geography consisting of a variety of dense jungles and woodland comparable to that of Valenwood.

Mine is a peculiar case. It was a day, not as much out of the ordinary as to merit a description, that my caravan was waylaid by a profligate lot of Argonians. We were but simple folks, with few distinctions out of talents of the mercantile variety and as such were easily routed. Many of my companions were dispatched, while those few able bodied were incapacitated, perhaps with some lucrative enterprise at mind. The potions employed in our sedation were beyond reproach in their potency, for my brain retains nothing from our voyage thence, to Black Marsh.

We were still in open sea, that I begin to reclaim some vestiges of consciousness. A similar fortune befell my comrades. At length we regained our composure, fortified our resolve and decided upon escaping. In a series of events, perhaps best chalked up to divine favour, we found that our bounds were either of subpar craftsmanship or was rendered escapable by the dearth of maintenance and that but a small detachment was posted to our sentinel, and that, too, inebriated. In a matter of minutes our confines were removed, and in a great display of stealth ascribed to the Khajit, we made our way onto the deck of the ship. It was now only that we entertained the though that we had nowhere to escape to even if we were to elude the argonians. At first we were griped of indecision, for death awaited on either avenues presented to us. But at least with jumping into the open sea, death would come easier, and thus we decided to accost our end.

I woke up to surroundings completely alien. The curtains were embellished with stitching never seen in Elsweyr, the bed was foreign of make, a strange structure was erected in the corner, perhaps for emulating the functions of a mirror. I was engrossed in such discoveries, that didn't register the door being swung upon. A course, feminine voice rang "Oh, so are finally awake? No need to get up, death is only thing that awaits you here."

"Whose?" I replied. "Ah!" the woman rejoined, with a grimace on her face. "It seems the claws are out, huh?"

"Here you go." (The woman throws a dwarven dagger at me) "This ought to be fun"

She then proceeded to remove her clothes. It was now apparent that she was a Redgaurd. . "My name is Jathbiyya, best you remember that. You seem passable as a warrior, but the question is, can you be one with the shadows." I swiftly replied "I am a Khajit, of course I am one with the shadows but why do you ask?"

"I have a job that I have no resolve to carry out. If you will carry out this assassination in my stead, I may be inclined to half the proceeds" she continued, "think of it as a challenge if the money is not enticing enough."