The Argonian Maid?...Nope!

So...and on it goes..have fun reading..and maybe you give me a piece of your mind?

*thought*

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Feeling a bit better after I had given her a piece of my mind I stomp back,if that´s possible for a bar footed lizard.
Lizard…I do not exactly like that word because we are not just lizard, not that small beeings. To call an Argonian a lizard would be just as wrong as calling an ork an ogrim. Just because they have some similarities on the first look does not mean they are the same.
That´s why I speak this word in my thoughts with so much twisted humor…like an elf would call himself a tree hugger.
Sighing I sit down at the wall which surrounds the goat and there i stuff my face until one of these ‘pain in my tail’ khajiits runs by..and winks at me, making me groan with annoyance.
Cats, can they not stop it?
Is it fair to call khajiits cats? Sure…if cats and khajiits are not somehow related I eat my own tail. Same kind of evil pleasure with which they torment their victims, play with them…but somehow I can not be truly angry with them because they have been..no, they are friendly. They have helped me and do not even know me. And maybe it is stupid of me to trust them but…whom can I trust?
I am a totally stranger in this city and they could have done anything to me if they had wanted...when i dropped on one of them..in their house.

Yeah, this little accident which was my first meeting with them was so stupid, shaking my head with that thought and grinding some bread for the birds which hop there near my feet and warily keep an eye on me while they squabble with one another to get the biggest crumbs.
And then these too confident little sparrow makes me laugh as it struggles with a piece of bread so big it looks like it never will get it down.
I can not deny the similarities between that small, dishevelled fella and myself. But like me it gets the food down in the end.
It is still early and I do not know what to do. I have nearly a full day for myself..nothing to do.
Maybe I should visit the horses again…or the lake which surrounds the city. It looks so nice and I would love to take a good swim.
Brushing the last crumbs from my trousers I stand up, trying not to disturb the birds too much and …hm…they have a harbour here, have they not?
I think I heard some people talk about the harbour. Fickle as I be, or maybe just curious like a child, I decide to search the way which may lead me to the harbour.

Living in the black marsh, or at least having my roots there, has given me an advantage. Just like the khajiit I can very safely tell where I am or which way to take. And it is necessary because most people will pretend not to see me, or look at me angrily if I dare to approach them and ask for directions. So with one more or less correct description where to go I find my way and soon walk through the tunnel which connects the city to the harbour.

And when the sun is again blinding me as I walk into bright daylight from the meager light tunnel…I nearly stumble from the walk way into the water as warm breath hits my neck and a snorting noise sprays spittle on me.
Googling at the brown and white pied horse like a fresh hatched chick I need some time until I am able to move again “Ahm yeah…nice horse…good horse…” I pet it on the nose, or…him “So why are you standing here..but I guess you can not answer me, can you?” I speak to the gelding, caressing the soft nose one last time before I walk over the stone bridge to the harbor.

Now I see that the docklands are on an island, how fitting..but the people here are not much nicer than in the city. Only some steps I have done, and again I am spoken to in an unfriendly manner.
This guy does not look much better than me..cheap clothing and with a stale smell on himself he babbles about that I should watch where I go and something about the people here which I do not catch.
I am just happy that he does not stop me as I walk past him and reach the buildings at the dock. Uninteresting for me, just like the warehouse near Jensine´s shop. Nothing to gain for me in there.
But still, I walk into the building next to it..and again nothing there for me. Just this guy busy with his papers..and the guard who complements me back out of the door.

And truly I did not await something else the way I look,twisting the fabric of my shirt between my claws and brushing the krinkles away after that.
Contemplating what to do here, I feel something tugging at the hem of my clothing. I am not so good in guessing the age of soft skinners, but with the wrinkly skin, the grey hair and the soft, broken voice he looks really old to me as he asks me for a coin.
When he shys away as I take a better look at him, as if I would hit him because he dared to beg me for an alms, I feel pity. He is worse then me..at least I am young and healthy,but I doubt that he is able to earn his living with anything else then beeing a beggar and living from the scraps he gets.
But surely I do not look so nicely with the grin full of sharp teeth..not for a softskinner.
“Calm down, do not look at me as if I would eat you. Here, take these coins” And again I am acting stupid if you would ask other people, to give away my hard earned money so easily. Desperation is a feeling just too familiar as that I would be able to ignore the old man.
I also would find it nice if there would be more people that look at me in a good manner. Not warily, not with scorn..or pure hate like some of the bosmer and altmer do. And about the dunmer I just do not want to talk.

If this old guy is just a bit more thankfull for the money I gave him he may break his backbone with all the praise he carries.
My only opinion is to walk away when he does not want to stop mumbling how grateful he is and how a kind person I am. I already feared he would follow me like a dog and wih that thought I shudder.

I really do not need an adoring fan..an other person to take care of when I barely can take care of myself.
Like now, when I run into these group of people. I never thought that an other woman than an altmer could be so big..not just in height when my eyes drop from her face down to her cleavage.
Somehow it itches me to ask her how her buckled corset can contain the mass of flesh she is whacking in my face.
And I do not even understand the fascination the softskinned males have with this kind of soft mounds ..and here I am trapped by them. Like hypnotized by a snake..and I giggle softly as I imagine that her boobs have snake eyes instead of nipples..not that I could see them…but imagination is a nasty little bugger.
That´s also why I miss big boobs…ahm..parts of her speech and have to ask her what she said.

Only with luck I suppress the need to roll my eyes. What else could it be when she rants that I was in her way and I should not bother her and the other members of the crew.
Damn, why have I asked about the crew…and the ship. Now she raves about the meaty, mighty captain of the ship, how she seems to adore every inch of him. And I think I vomited a little bit into my mouth as my imagination tortures me with an image about which inches she is fantasizing so much.
“And ya scum do nat dare to even look wrong at the ship. We will gut ya like a fish if ya will set as much as one of ya scaly feet even near the deck or our freight.”

Now I am really itching to do something stupid.
“Oh what did you mean?” and I inch closer to the planking which leads to the ship, looking absolutely innocent…as innocent as an argonian can look to a softskinner, grinning while I lick my lips.
Than she glares as me and I blink, cocking my head, lifting and stretching my leg so it hovers over the planks.
“I should not do what or you would do what to me?” Lowering my toe until there is not even an inch air between it and the wood
“Ya little daring beast..getta way from there or your scales will be ma new chest armour!”
She is fuming and I absolutely love it
“I thought weapons need sheaths, not an armour? You surely could break someones neck with the things you have there my dear” poking her hide with my words until she turns a nice dark shade and if looks could kill I sure as hell would die a horrible death. And her two friends do not look any more amused then she while my foot still hovers there, mocking her words.
And then when she is walking slowly to me…I run over the planks on the deck and around the mast while she is screaming bloody murder and her friends join her, running after me and I flee to the bridge.

Ok, maybe I really have taken a bigger bite than I can swallow..but that was fun.
But when I jump on the fiddle and from there on the sidewalk, luck is shining on me as the city guards attack the crew.
As if I would stand in their way..first these woman nearly talked me to death and then she threatened me because of something hilarious as walking near the ship.
Astound over myself, how cruel my thoughts can be. Do I feel satisfied when the guards struck her and her friends down?
If they are dumb enough to attack someone in the city limits, with the guards near..and this attitude..i am absolutely not sorry.
Full of glee when I see them lying in their blood I wait for some minutes until the guards have walked away.
I need only some moments to rummage through their clothes, grab what I can carry an then…there is the old beggar again and he beckons me over.
Wondering what he wants I walk to him..and then I am grabbed before I can even utter a word, pulled between the wall and a shaggy hut, down into the bushes. Not a moment too early, because from my position, lying at the ground I can see the shiny boots of the guards that walk by to the bodys I robbed of their belongings.
My panik subsides when I realise that the old guy saved my hide and I take a relieved breath.


“Thanks..” I smile at him, even with the strange position we are in. But no sooner than I thought about that he lifts his weight from me, standing up and offering me a hand in which I lay my clawed one. Not that I would need help to get up, it is more a sign…of what..gratitude, maybe even the first delicate buds of friendship we offer each other?
“Here, I think you have no use for weapons, but the money …” and he tries to deny my offer
“No, you helped me,I helped you. That is how it works” he even looks a bit miffed
“But if you wanna help me in the future you should have a full stomach and proper clothing. See it…like..i help you again and you can return the favour later”
And I succeed in trying to swoon him over and accepting my offer.
Again I am too nice..but hey, what can I loose? If he had not taken me aside the guards would have arrested me when they came back. I would have lost everything.
“You have an affinity for getting into trouble, be careful. Maybe the thieves guild would be an option for you..if you want to continue on this path”
Then I stand here, dumbfounded as he walks away, brooding over his words. Is he a member, a thief himself?
Why do I feel so tired again? Too much to think about, too much that has happened and I still have no real clue who I am, where I am from.

Rubbing and scratching my head I pack in the small daggers, some armour,cheap juwelerie and a couple of flasks I got from the dead bodies. My backpack feels much heavier, but maybe it is just my tiredness, the headache I have now..again.
Why can I not get rid of it?
Frustrated I growl as I rush back through the archway and catch some tatters from the conversation of the guards about ‘pirates’ without stopping my jog down the foot walk back to the tunnel.
My head hurts, my back hurts…I ache all over and feel the need to bang my head against the stone wall and do exactly that.
I have forgotten about the horse,but the gelding not about me and he nudges my back with his head, snorting and slobbering which pulls me out of the misery I have fallen into.
At least for the moment.
I shove the annoying nose away, but with a smile as I try to wipe the dampness at my neck away “Ok really, what are you doing here?” looking around for the owner of this horse “Looks like there is no one there who could mind if we took a stroll togther?” petting the balky horse again from whom I got the feeling that he really would not mind if I horsenapped him.
Anew I look out for a soul who could see us two little mischievous souls and when everything seems clear I climb hastily into the saddle.
Who would left a horse here..with saddle and briddle even..it just screams ‘steal me’.
But that should not bother me any longer as I try to get a grip on how to stay on the back of a horse…which seems too easy for me even if the saddle is uncomfortable and I need to drap my tail over the side.
And then this crazy gelding just jumps into the water!
Okay, it is the fastest way for a stroll around the island..but still, the horse surprised me and I splutter indignant.
Can horses snigger?
Dripping wet, both of us, the horse reaches dry land and does not even bother to wait until I am more comfortable, it falls into a sprint, giving me a hard time to stay on its back.
My backside will be so sore after this but somehow I manage to stay in the saddle…until I have the strange feeling that I am moving…down…and I am.
“Stop stop STOP!” I squeak helpless as the saddle is slipping and then I can do nothing more than hold on to the horse which has no interest in moving slower or stopping. With arms and legs around the barrellike, furry body I try to think of nothing else as of staying where I am, not getting trampeled when I fall.

When I am starting to doubt my ability to hold on any longer,my limbs hurting and turning numb from the effort,the damn horse from hell stops abruptly,sniffing on a flower and I drop unceremoniously like a stone.
“Asshole” I hiss, but I regret it instantly when the gelding moves forward a bit...”PERVERT!” screeching I scramble faster than humanly possible away from under the horse and collapse again. That was just too much while my limbs still feel like jelly.
“What is it with you that everyone seeks to embarrass me?” I turn my head to the grazing horse which does not even stop or look in my direction.
Huffing I sit up, placing my backpack next to me and stumbling to the gelding, inspecting the saddle.
Just my luck that the cinch would get loose because of the little bath we took. Or was it loose before?
Maybe that would explain where the owner is, more like why he is not here. Maybe the four legged dremora here drowned his master
“You know, you owe me for this” I ground out as I take away the saddle, dropping it on the ground and scratching the damp fur which has to itch terrible to judge by a look at the gelding, or listening to the joyous sounding neigh he makes as my claws scratch his skin.
“Ok, lets how you will feel under me with that thing and if you can behave better than that.I know, running free is a nice feeling but you have a passenger who is not so happy to be dragged along. I will take away that briddle when we are done, good? Than you can go where you want but now I need you to let me gain some experience” talking to the horse as if it would understand me.
Maybe it does,who knows. Some of the dark skinned elves thought long enough that argonians could not understand or learn their language and had treated our race similar to …I sigh, is it just wishfull thinking for a real companion which makes me talk to the horse?
Distracted I stop brushing the coat with my fingers which earns me a nosebutt, and in return the horse a smack on his nose. “Stop complaining. It is not as if we would not have enough time” time for what exactly..exploring this island?
Again I am unhappy with the path of my thoughts or the strange feelings that threaten my mood.
Still I can hope that it will get better when my memories return.

Grabbing my backpack from where I dropped it I walk back to the horse which is now watching me, taking some steps away from me. Annoyed when it looks like that I have to walk back instead of getting my riding lesson, I roll my eyes, fastening my belongings on my back just to get pushed as I am distracted with tying the halters.
“Stop that, that is not funny.” Looking as reptilian cold as I am able to, to discourage the horse from pushing me around again with his big head..which earns me a very wet sign of affection as the horse seems to get even more stimulated the more it riles me up.
When I have rubbed most of the spittle away with my sleeve, no longer in danger of getting the viscous liquid in my eyes the damn horse is grazing again.
“You are making fun of me, are you not?” smacking it hard on the rump..but the evil thing makes a squeeling nicker, jerking and I can not help me.I get the feeling as If this beast had enjoyed that.

This thing is starting to giving me the creeps and now as if it realises my thoughts of getting as fast away as possible, it trudges to me and standing obediently still. Needing some moments to collect me I decide to carry on with my first intention to take a ride around the island.
“One more funny thing and I am gone…”warning the horse..which..oh what a surprise…is completely unimpressed by my words.

I had not realised how much harder it would be to get on top of the horse without the help a saddle provides. But the gelding stands unimpressed,not even commenting with a snort as I am a bit too, enthusiatic halfway on the horseback, and catapulting myself over the animal, landing on the other side with a dull thud.
Dusting me down to squelch my embarassment…it does not work, who am I kidding. I know that this damn horse is amused about my predicament.


A second time I try to climb on the horse..and a third time. Sometimes claws are not so usefull, like when you try not to injure your mount when you try to sit up. So I got a few more bruises, but how can you learn something without trying it again and again?
But now I am on its back, more or less in one piece, huffing and puffing..which tickles the damn thing and I can barely clamp my legs around its body when it jumps before falling into a trot.
“You never gonna make it easy for me, or?” I growl while my arms are sloung around the muscled neck, getting a headache from being buffeted so much. And my backpack which bumps and scratches uncomfortably is not making the experience any better.
At least the ex-stallion isn´t it making worse with me and when he trots with the same speed all time I trust myself enough to sit up and lessen my iron grip on the horse until I relax into the hypnotizing, unchanging movements and can do something else then just hanging on with the fear of plunging any second.

“Did we circuit the whole island?” I whisper, looking around, letting my body move with the rhythm of the trot.
It really looks like as if we had made our way completely on the pathway which is halfway between the waterline and the city wall leading around the island. But maybe it just looks all the same. Just rocks and water and trees..but there is a bridge high above me, connecting the city to something like a fort.
Had I really missed this when I was so busy with staying upright on the horse?
But now with the abrupt movement, trying to get a better look at the fort and the forward movement, the headache comes back and I nearly topple down, sagging forward over the horse and loosing my grip which I can not retain while the dizziness gets stronger every second.
I can not even care about the crash which looms ahead..only some moments away. There is just the crazy amusement which I feel when my thoughts drift away..about how I mastered my first ride and then maybe breaking my neck now…which makes my efforts useless, a waste of time…and the reason for my demise.

Somehow it feels nice as the lightheadedness takes over and the jolting turns to flowing..i am flowing…floooowing awaaaay.

I know that I am sliding from the horseback and it feels so strange while my awareness slips away. It seems so slow to me and as if the horse has slowed down,or even stopped.
Then there is the pain in my back as I connect with the duff, but it does not hurt as much as I thought it would. The soft floor takes away a great deal of the force, which was not as half as much as if the horse had continued its run.

The backpack is really a pain in my back, proverbially. Turning on my side which seems to take away the last of my strenght I feel a soft, furry mouth move over my face, followed by too much warm slobber, homogeneously dispersed by a very big tongue and the eager horse it is connected to.
“Thanks buddy” I rasp while petting the nose still hovering over my face. It could have turned really bad for me, but somehow this imp of a horse has saved my hide.
“Ok, time to return the favor,hm?” grabbing the headgear and tugging the briddle gently from his head,sliding the metal out of the mouth. But it is more like that I grip it, while the weight of my arm pulls the gear down because I have a really hard time staying awake, or making my muscles move.
“Thanks for the riding lesson, enjoy your freedom..and now..shoo” loosing focus and blacking out for a bit of time, still gripping the briddle.
And I am dreaming, again such strange things. But no wonder ..the whole time I spend in the city, which I could remember,was strange.
It is still bright daylight, so I was knocked out only for minutes, or?
No, I am still dreaming, vulnerable here on the floor where a wild beast or bandits can find me.
But why am I dreaming about the place where I fell? The sunlight which is shining through the canopy of leaves..and I can even hear the birds in the trees.
But it IS a dream, it has to be a dream.

Because there is this strange person kneeling beside me, smiling down at me..and deep inside me bubbles laughter which is never heard because I am too dizzy..no..dreaming.
Such a strange person in a strange dream. A person with unruly brown and white hair..and his whole skin is spotted the same way…*funny*..mirth dancing in his honey brown eyes..and then I do not know any more……