I sat in the Retching Netch, chatting to Geldis Sadri over a tankard of his finest sujamma. I never really found myself a drinker of the regular stuff, yet he always had something in it that made it quite delicious.
"So, I hear there's a ship coming in from Windhelm." He said, wiping down the bar.
"Really?"
"Yeah. It's probably just an East Empire Company shipment, though."
"Ah, I see..." Excitement drained out of me, along with my dream of a new visitor. While I had become friends with Sadri and Glover Mallory, Raven Rock was dull as always. It was better than Windhelm, but at least the Gray Quarter wasn't covered in ash. Sadri's voice snapped me out of my internal rant.
"Hey, you wouldn't mind if I asked you something?" He asked, glancing at me.
"Huh? Oh. No, go ahead."
"Why do you wear that mask, anyway? I know the ash is bad, but even Mallory works without one." Ugh. This question. It always made me feel uncomfortable. When I told that to my last patron, he laughed and said, "You're a mercenary! You shouldn't have weak spots, elf." Sadri obviously saw my silent annoyance, and smiled sheepishly.
"Sorry, that was a bit too personal."
"It's fine. Here's the gold for my room tonight. I'm going to go rest." I dug ten septims from my pocket and placed them on the table, then stood up and left to go to my usual room.
"O-oh. Well, sleep well! Holler if you need anything...."
The next morning, I awoke to find a bread slice on a plate next to my bed. I hastily ate it, for I had work to do. In order to keep my pockets full of septims, I had to work strange jobs. I worked in the mines for a while, before they became dried up. I was fine with that. Cracking rocks wasn't my idea of a great job. Then, Glover Mallory taught me how to forge bonemold armor. Now I forged armor for the guards. I kept burning my fingertips, but it paid me very well. Yet there was always a voice in my head, nagging me. It kept telling me, "You want to be a mercenary, and yet you're smithing armor for guards?" I tried not to pay attention to it, but it was true. I pulled on my armor and walked out of my room. While walking to the door, I saw Sadri talking to Morgrul, and I had to stop myself from bursting out laughing. Sadri, the weak little elf, talking to a giant orc like Morgrul? He was really too embarrassed about the night before to speak to me. But I contained my laughter, and headed outside.
As soon as I took a step outside, a hooded figure sped by and tripped over my outstretched boot, sending them face-first into the ash-covered walkway. The laughter from before was too much, and I chuckled to myself. I quickly realized my mistake. The hooded figure jumped up and stormed over to me, and I could nearly feel the anger coming from their body.
"I apologize, um, sir....miss..... Who are you, anyways?"
"That is none of your business. Your business is the fact that you blatantly tripped me, thinking of it as a little joke." The hissed whisper was feminine. Underneath the cloak, I could see two piercing green eyes, which caught me off guard.
"You're not from here, are you?" I muttered angrily. I slowly reached for my dagger, not wanting to be surprise attacked. At least, not without defending myself.
She looked taken aback, and stumbled.
"N-no. Like I said, that isn't your business. Now get out of my way; I need to leave." She pushed me back into the door, and I watched her walk to the ship. I was stunned for a few seconds, then her words kept repeating in my head.
"I need to leave."
Her words triggered something in my brain, and I ran after her. I jumped onto Gjalund's boat, rocking it slightly. "Oi! What are you doing that for, elf?!" Gjalund interrupted his conversation with the woman.
"I'm sorry, Captain, but I need to speak to this fine lady." I nodded at her, and she glared at me in disgust. "Hello. I'm Teldryn Sero. Best sellsword in all of Morrowind, at your service....... for a price."
"I don't need a mercenary, unless you feel like leaving this dust covered island you call-"
"I wouldn't mind leaving at all. I've spent enough time on Solstheim to last a lifetime." The woman looked up at me, for being rather small.
"Alright. Here's your gold, you good-for-nothing, wealth-hogging...."
She obviously realized I was still listening, for I said, "You know, I don't need 500 septims right now..."
She groaned. "Let's go. I need to get home."
"Wait, I just need to get my belongings. I'll be back in a minute."
I dashed back to the Retching Netch, my heart filled with joy. There was a grin on my face, though no one could see it.
YOU ARE READING
Dust-Covered Daggers
RandomTeldryn Sero, a sellsword in Solsthiem, meets Mari Light-Hood, a quiet, Nord archer from Morthal. Together they head back to Skyrim and embark on a journey filled with vampires, stories, and more. This story takes place from Teldryn's POV.