The Argonian Maid?...Nope!

Why is it that I always loose concussioness or fall asleep in the strangest situations and places?
At first, like it seems common these days with me, I am at a loss what has happened until I remember my unruly ‘luck’, stumbling over the thieves guild.
~Ok how did that happen..that they let me participate in the contest and not question why I was there? Maybe the old guy who helped me…~ thinking back to my fist visit in the haven.
The thought seems strange but how else did they accept me, also because the Gray Fox and the beggars work together..if one believes in the rumors.
~ And where am I…oh…~
Still in the delusional mist between sleeping and waking I did not even remember where I slept, working myself out of the tangled mess of vines and soggy remains of my attacker.
The pleasant smell of djungle is gone, the carcass already starting to rott which now hits me worse then the pungent fumes of the wastewater nearby.

~And I ATE that? ~
I blame it on the circumstances..the prison, the memory loss…the attack…I was hungry.
~That still does not justify it ~
The torch and the broken sword will remain with the carcass which turns very fast into a pile of goo, I just want to get out of here, now that more and more light filters through the cracks above me.
And as blisters form on the carcass, bursting with a pop I do flee. ~Gross that I ate that~

Also something which agitates me, the sunrays punching me square between the eyes as I crawl through the manhole…~Ok where is the sunlight? ~ to my amazement there is no sunlight which I expected, nothing to worsen my ever present headache…because I am in a cellar.
Obviously not the one through which I went first down into the underground, because there is no blood to be seen.

Still feeling pretty drained I am not as alert as I should be, stumbling and bumping into things.
Yeah this cellar is cramped, and again I land in a heap at the floor as I try to climb over one of the boxes which hinder me in my way to the stairs which hopefully me lead me out of here.

Grumbling I pull myself up, sitting cross legged, head empty…except for the headache.
I can not go on with my brain beeing so useless and start to dig through my bag.
Somewhere in there could be something usefull, taking different flasks out, subjecting them to scrutiny, sniffing and nipping because most of signs on them I can not read.
But at least the one with the skull give a clear sign, do not ingest or you end dead.
A very carefull sip on one bottle makes me cring.
The taste is bitter and seems to make fur grow on my tongue. ‘Wonderous’ how some drops can taste so gross that my mouth tastes like I have eaten ash and lemons.
When I want to discard the bottle as useless and horrible I feel a prickling sensation up my spine and my head clears slightly.
At least is feels as I am a bit more awake and cautious I take second sip, bigger than the first and try to judge if it was my imagination or if the gruesome taste really did help me wake up.

My feathers jitter from the taste, or maybe it is a reaction to the concotion together with the feeling that I get awake some more.
Scratching together my courage, holding my breath I tip the bottle and swallow a mouthfull.
Wheezing and coughing I roll on the floor. Oh my good god..that is so awfull.
Frantic I lick the stonefloor.Everythings better than that.Never thought that dust and lint could tast so heavenly. But at least I am now clearly awake, scratching at my tongue to get the dirt away, spitting on the ground.

Shuddering I stuff the bottles back into my knapsack, tying it back to my clothes and hurrying up to the stairs.
The sight of the barrell makes me stop and I take one of the mugs from the small cricket.
Ah, clear water and slightly chilled and my mouth feels better.
Hundred percent sure that I will keep that foul concotion for emergency I take a second look at my knapsack, emptying the mug with a happy sigh before I go to the heavy wooden door which seperates me from whatever that´s behind there. With my luck I maybe would stand in the center of the guard quarters.
Peeking through the keyhole I can see a table with cutlery on it, but not much more.
Automatically my fingers search for lock pick in the knapsack before I can react and ask myself…where did I get that thing?
And how the hell do I kno how to use it. Did I use it before. Gnashing my teeth I try not to get a headache again because I always forget things. It is just so frustrating.
While I tried to remember, my fingers were busy with opening the lock. A satisfying click later I can push the door open, peeping through the gap and skulking into the living area.
I can smell other people, but the smell is cold, faint as if no one had be home for some time.

Grinning I open my mystical little bag I start to stuff cutlery, bottles and very important..food into it.
Mh, and the flowers in the vase were really delicious.
No longer so wary I climb the stairs, picking the lock of the door there and stand in a bedroom.
The owner will be a bit frustrated when he or she comes home. But I am more than happy to grab everything what is worth at least a little bit of money and change the owner..to me.

Unfortunately furniture does not fit so good into my bag, but hey..who wants to go overboard with that?.
A bunch of clothing and a nice collection of blades later, I stand at the front door.
There too, I have to use the lockpick and I ty not to think about where I learned that.
When I walk out of the door, a guard is walking straight down the snicket, stopping and looking me down if I am someone suspicous.

“Ah wonderfull good day sir. May I help you? You are looking as if something bothers you?”
And that was the right thing to say, because now, even with the grim face and posture he starts to talk about the problems which arouse because the emperor was killed.
Something pokes at the back of my mind, but I push it away. I would not remember it and now I am free of my headache and want to savour that time I have.
“Yes I think the emperor was a kind man and a great ruler. Come my friend, let me give you this and take a toast on the memory of the Septime” offering a handfull coins from my sachet.
-“What is the meaning of this, do you try to bribe me, one of the loyal guards?”-
“No dear sir” and I try to look as sincere as possible, which is not difficult because I really feel like that the emperor was someone who should be remembered
“I see this beautiful city and how the people are sad about what happened and …well” I pause, looking up and studying the face which is hidden partially by a helmet.
“One of you guys helped my. It was the middle of the night and someone attacked me and before I could comprehend what happened one guard killed my attacker. It happened so fast and then the guard was gone when I had freed me from my stupor. So I never got the chance to thank him properly and that is also why I want to give you and your fellow guards the money as thanks” still holding the coins until he takes them from me, still looking distrustfull but not as much as some minutes ago.
“Maybe someone remembers me, but even if not, you and other guards keeps the city save and I wanted to thank you. I bet you hear that rarely enough” I try to smile with closed lips as not to show my teeth which may seem aggressive to mamaels.

I am a such a good little arrant lier? Seems so, but maybe it is that money opens doors..everyone likes money, or?
So the guard walks away, a very, very small smile on the thin lips.
Chippering to myself I test the door behind me if it is closed and then..yeah..what will I do know?
First get away from here before the owner comes back, but hey..i carry nothing visible with me, so how would the owner realise that I got all his goods?

There was something else I had to do, or? Scratching through the plummage on my head I walk purposeless through the streets. I can´t even say that I am occupied with thinking. Just mazily thoughts, twisting through my head and vanishing when I try to grab them.

And with my head in the clouds I walk right into the building of the black horse courier to get back my things I stored there…and into a scene which wipes my head devoid of thought.

I did not even know where I walked and if I had know what my poor eyes would have suffered I ..oh my…my ears..

With an embarassed quack I slap my hands over my ears, turning on the spot and smacking into the still open door, seeing stars, stumbling backwards and crashing into the table behind me, loosing concussioness as my head meets the edge and I finally find a new resting place on the stone floor, littered with paper.

And what crazy dreams, pictures exploding all over the construct of my thoughts. Grunts and groans, strange sounds and purring while wood scraps screeching over stone, rattling with a deep tone when the table legs bump back on the floor, over the ridges on the stone. Two bodies entwined, one on the table, lying on scattered papers, ink dripping to the ground while the other one, standing… is pistoning, snapping his hips in a punishing hard rhytm, claws seeking hold in wood.
A tangled mess of sounds, movements, pictures in my head.

What a sick, sick brain of mine …worse because somewhere deep down there i..liked that. Shame on me.

The world still spins as I sit up, blurry vision but thankfull no headache, but a cool cloth on my forehead.
And stare directly into the amused grinning face of one of the feline brothers “Birdie´s a little tight, isn´t that right birdie? All flustered by our display, na?” tipping his claw against my ribcage, showing of teeth in a bright grin, laughter flowing freely from an other feline source behind me “Ah brother you bad kitten, had your little plaything here, holding him back from his duty, delivering our newspaper?” tsk´ing to what I can imagine the handgesture.
“Don´t worry bro´ I got him a potion for that”
“Yeah and ruined a perfectly good supply of paper during your wrestling match”
“Oh well as if you didn´t do that ever once in this life of yours bro”
“Both of you stop that or I throw both cats on call of you into the next sewer to cool you off.” The slightly annoyed voice of the third brother comes from the door as he places a fresh stack of paper on the now clean table.
“Stop scaring that poor fella and go back to work. You screw each other when we have done our work, not now.”

At least someone else is like me, not very amused about that display “I should go, just wanted to get my belongings back…” I try to get my neck out of the sling and myself away from that crazy cats, inching along the bench where I have lain.
“Awww bro´ you are just so sour because that was so long ago when you last got laid, right?”
“Think you should stop, you know he´s just more target oriented than you, let him be. No one sane provokes a sleepin´dragon” now one of the frickling tricksters trys to reason with his brother, I myself forgotten for the moment and tiptoeing to the door of the storage room in which I think I kept my things, or part of them because I now have so much more in my little magical sack than what lays behind the door
“Hey whattya doin´?” one of the brothers tries to grab me as I close the door behind me with a bang
“You perverted buggers …don´t touch me. Fucking out there in broad daylight” I grouse through the closed door, groping in the dark for my things until strangely I can see a bit even when there are no cracks in the wooden door where light could fall through.
But that seems still enough for me to push all my possessions in the bag without the brothers realising what a treasure I really have.
“Ah, skittish little birdie. Don´t worry, as if we would catch us such a shy fawn. There is much more willing prey out there. But say, you´ve never..have you?” while they rustle and there is also scratching and other noises from moving furniture, or a machine?
“Eya be careful with that ink, stains horrible”
“Than wear ya gloves. You get ink on you no matter what” screeching of metal, bumping of wood against wood?…while I barricade myself in the small storage room.
“Bootless the lot of you, stop talking at least for some time”
“As if that was of any concern for you” I screech angrily “And no I can not remember, lost it, got it?
“No we didn´t get ya mind, but maybe we could help ya remember, hm?” another loud bumb, rustling paper, the sound of scissors cutting through it while there is again that screeching of something big out of metal.
“You just want an opportunity to go to the juke joint” one brother hitting the other playfully from the sounds and laughter I hear.
“Say do you not want to come out, seems a tad uncomfortably in there? I swear these two up to no good gals will not tease you further, at least not too much.”
“No, I prefer to stay here and what is a juke joint?”
“Ah oh well, there is a ship down at the haven where people like me and my brothers can have fun. Or people who prefer creatures like you and me, know what I mean?”
“I can imagine, at least a bit” the more resonable, mature of the brothers is more to my liking, also because..i feel like a clueless maiden. There are the colourless reflections of memories flashing somewhere in my mind but I can not grab them. Just a hazy notion, not more.
“Let birdie sleep down in the owl hole, it will be a long night later”
“Long night?” and like a lightning it hits me, I have work to do, holy pile of manure!
But as I try to open the door it won´t budge
“Let me out!” only if you swear that we go down the harbour and have some fun together. Or at least me and my bros and we dirty your mind a bit in the Toad´s hole” somehow I know that there is one of the brothers leaning heavily against the door, trapping me here.
“Ok yes but let me out, I have work ahead of me and if it do not solve that until tonight I am fried”
That was a bit much to say, but I have to break into a house, go back to Jensine and that ugly little wood elf and then..oh yeah the thieves guild…bit much for half a day.

As the door opens slowly I give it a good push, sending one of the brothers sailing into the others and nearly tumbling over
“See you later alligator” one of them throws after me as I hasten through the front door, resorting my mind and jogging to the other district. Maybe I am lucky and can get it all done by midnight.

Ara..Afra…ah damn. Again I can not remember the name of the guy whose house I should break into, but at least I find it without problems. Squatting in the house entrance across from my target I wait…and wait..looking as if I am asleep so the guards do not bother me, just another beggar, huddling there to find some warmth and safety from wind and rain.

My eyes are so heavy, did they fall shut for too long? I feel as if I had slept for a while.
Cursing myself I tiptoe to the door, trying to hear if someone is inside, trying the door.
But neither do I hear something, nor is the door open.
Hastily, my heart pounding in my head I fumble with the lock, scrambling inside just when I have that nervous prickling inside as if the guards may catch me any minute.
Instincts warning me about the turns the guards take, when they wander down that street and huffing lightened I slither down, kneeling there and willing my heart to slow down as the door is now shut again and I am save from prying eyes.

Smelling and listening if someone´s here I flare my nostrils, tipping my head to the side as if to see better, hoisting myself up and slinking…hm..up or down?
If I had something to hide I would hide it in the cellar..or somewhere up, where I sleep..near me?
Swaying slightly as my thoughts are divided between going up the stairs or down the cellar I catch a whiff which makes icy water trickle down my back..and it comes from the cellar.

A cool, moldy breeze, tinted with iron and slightly…sweet, the odour of decay. Different from the one in the canalisation.
This is cool and earthy like stone and moss and …like a dank cave where an animal hid for its last hour, to die.

Without me realising I had opened the door, crouching on all fours now on top of the stairs.
Candlelight flickering in the drift, eerie dancing shadows and the smell from which I want to hide my nose, pulling my shirt higher and trying not to get the air to deep into my lungs.
Dark stains on the floor, dried blood..no..still sticky so…liquid from a corpse, not only blood.
Disgust makes me pucker my lips.
Richly embroidered clothes, even jewels decorating them..jarn made from gold.
But also bones, why did they even take the bodies here, not letting them rest?

Shaking I root for something which may help to solve all this.
Jewels? Not likely..if they catch me with jewels..in the end I will land in jail for that.
Shifting through the bureau I gather some papers, books, hastily letting my eyes fly over the pages and…yes that book may be the key for everything.
But I do not want to dwell here, read..not even take things from here. It feels as if the ghosts of the dead people which had been robbed are looking over my shoulder and I just take everything from the desk and flee.

I force myself to check if the air is clean outside the front door, but when no one is in sight I run, just run and shakily I push open the door to Thoronirs shop, smashing the book and papers on his desk, glowering at him.
And then he turns ashen, his sun tan gone, eyes so big and frightened and disgusted, shaking his head as if he could make that what was written vanish.
Every article of clothing, everything is there, and written down from whose thomb it was robbed.
“Can´t be true…no…” and he is looking at his hands as if they would be coated with something disgusting, hastely looking left and right, behind himself and hiding his face behind his hands when there is everywhere the evidence of the crime, he has a part in.
“It is…sadly..so you will go to Jensine and talk with her?”
He just nods, face still hidden behind his hands and taking shaky breaths.
“Agamir, he…tonight he wants to…acquire new goods” hands falling down and a helpless stare, still not fully believing, comprehending what was going on..truth hurts.
And the truth which one saw and turned a blind eye for personal gain, hurts the most when it can not longer stay unseen.
“So what? I should go after him and …what..risk my life, for what?”
“Is it not enough to have honour?”
“Honour ..says the one who turned a blind eye for cheap goods?” low blow, but earned.
And I still feel anger bubbling in me.
“So tell me dear friend” what is said in a slight sarcastic tone “..what is more worth to you, money…with which you could pay me to go after your ‘partner’..or your honour, which means nothing to me if you still prove that money is more worth to you”

He seems to fight with himself, wringing his hands and eyes darting around the room. But then his eyes stop and whatever he sees, if real or in his fantasy, lets him open the drawer under the measuring table which has so many stolen goods on top.
“Here, I will give you what I earned today but the robbed clothes and everything else I want to donate to the temple and..” his expression is somehow apologetic, but if it had not have that troubled look I would not have believed him “ I still need a bit of money for myself to make changes to my store and thrive, or else I go bankrupt. I can not gift every coin”
“Yeah you need something to live, just like I ..” while I scratch together the small lot which he piled on the table and transfering it into my money bag.
“I will go after them..and you take that book and …no better I take it myself to Jensine later”and with that he looks frightened “If I hear that you have not make amends with her when I go to her, do we have an understanding here?”
He nods but I ignore what he says, turning and walking out the door.

So..what do I do know? Aga-whatever wants to rob another grave, or tomb or whatever.
Graves…hm…now I am again a bit clueless.
Because, where are graves? And would this Aga charakter steal within the bounds of the city?
I snort, who am I kidding? I steal within the city bounds..not grave robbing but still…


Again the beggars are what saves me, instead of my pelt, now it is time and useless running around.
So instead of waitin at Agafagas living quarters, I straightly walk to the graveyard near the palace.
A bit macaber to put a graveyard there, or not?
But maybe that is the same as with the dark elves which love their deceased clan members so much and keep them near?
Ok from where do I know that piece of information? But in the end it does not matter.

Relatively calm I stand here, tomb stones around me, grass under my feet and try to get the directions right the beggar gave me.
Beggars are really the eyes and ears of a city, these people seem to know everyone and everything what´s going on.
And at least I stand at a wall, not really a wall but a tomb.

Did I mention that I hate the thought of entering something like that?
Not much room, dead people, maybe ghosts?
Somethings nagging me again from the back of my mind.
It is dangerous, so what should I do?
I look around for the guards but I see none…the tomb is locked but I could pick it.
And if I told a guard about what´s going on and why I surely would land in jail again and …ah damn.
Get it over with you coward..it is getting dark and I have other things to do…really.

As fast a spossible I open the lock, looking behind me and I draw my weapon before I enter the tomb.
And oh, what a surprise. Snorting I shake my head as the heavy stone door falls shut and Agamuffin with his two friends is awaiten me.
You all can imagine what a character like him would brag about, or not?

He is so intelligent and pretty and what not..yes it was a trap and I am gonna die.
Why feel I so annoyed? Because I somehow knew that this would happen?
But I also feel somehow seperated from myself.
Strange, light and…flowing, flowing like the butterfly which is dancing through the tomb.
An unearthly little butterfly and everything around me seems to slow down, only the butterfly stays the same…and then I glance back to my opponent.

Something whispers words which I do not understand and I stare with wide open eyes, draw deap breaths which seem to pull all air around me into me and with the air an energy I have never known before.
I breath deep and it feels like as if the air not only goes to my lungs, but spreads through my whole body, filling it and that my body is no longer mine, at least not completely.

It feels as if the air would glow, the air I breath in, and still the butterfly dances around the pillars in the light which descends from nothing.
There is a song unheard which sounds only in my ears as I and something else lifts my arm, swings the short sword, feeling so light and so full of a strange energy which makes me feel like drowning.
Joy, that is it, joining the song as I move, jump, dive and slice the person in front of me from his right hip up to the left shoulder.
And the eyes which shine with disbelief make me offer a delightfull thrilling tune to the melody which is around me, lifting my body, moving it with ease as I jump to the next one while the first body drops to the ground..not even a small jerk and for a second I muse if the puzzled expression will still be there when the guards clean the place, or will the bodies stay here and rott?
The second man still stands for some seconds even when his head has hit the ground a while ago and I throw my sword, letting it slice through the air between the two pillars which enframe a sarcophagus as the third man tries to escape.

And then he falls, breaks down on the stairs as the blade embedds itself fully ´til the hilt between the shoulderblades.
Always the golden middle.
Even the blood seems to be golden when it coats the stairs, the clothes of the man.
But all that does not bother me as the butterfly is again crossing my vision, dangling, dancing and I follow its movements.

As my feet bump against a body on the floor I bend down, rolling the man around to search through his clothes, taking a bundle of letters and some jewels with me from which I get the feeling that they will be usefull.
Then I walk out of the tomb into the fading daylight and as I turn, the butterfly is vanishing in thin air, a whisp of wind as its wings still beat, turning translucent. When I lift my arm, try to grab it, there is nothing. Only the air and I feel still dazed, walking back to Jensine.
Maybe I should have cut off the heads, imaging how I would throw them in front of Jensine on the table, grin while she would turn white.

But what are these thoughts, I stop…rethinking and shaking my head without the fog lifting.
This is something I feel not comfortable with, too strange for me…or is it the real me, coming back from the realms of the forgotten?
Forget it, I have no time left to linger around, so I run to reach Jensines shop before it is closed for the night.

When I arrive, the door is shut, but not locked. Both Jensine and Thoronir are here and I hand the bundle of letters to them and the jewelerie I got from one of the bodies.
“Will this suffice? It should prove the crimes without doubt, or not?”
And they really try to argue after that with me about my reward.
No wonder that I feel sick and tired about these people and their love for money, grabbing the gold which I have earned the hard way, feeling angry and…strangely…empty.

Between the barells and crates which are stapled in the area of the stores I sink to the ground.
I killed them, but I was not myself..and remember that there was a tale about the sould leaving the body and turning into a butterfly.
Have I meet a soul, one of the people who had been robbed in the grave? Was ist really a soul..a butterfly in a tomb, sparkling without light and turning into nothing when it flew out into the city.
Opening my hand I stare into it, realising that there is a soft powder glittering when I thought that there was nothing in the air to touch…but somehow, there is now this dust and I rub my fingers together, thinking that there may be a last tune, a barely hearable melody in the air.

Maybe that was all a strange dream and I was hit harder on the head than I thought first, carefully collecting the dust in the palm of my hand and scratching it into an empty phial from my sack and dropping it back into the endless storage room.
Even when it was a dream, maybe I can use the remnants later.

And now what to do with the last hours until I have to meet with the thieves guild again?
Did I overhear that there is a stable in front of the main gate, or is it something I remember from before I lost my memory?
In the end it does not matter when I stand before the small hut with the stables in the back and a rather nice collection of different horses.

Some people would say that it is strange that I am drawn to animals, others would just state that I am an animal myself, so that this is pretty natural.
So lets just spend the time here and have a nice chat or two...