AirshipCircus
The Duct-Taped Jack of Hearts
Ma'Nchitar wasn't surprised when he heard screaming coming from the upper mines. "An Orsimer-bitch. Perhaps the one who tried to steal Ma'Nchitar's favorite skeever pelt, hmm?" He pocketed the lepids and began to half roll/half drag his cart loaded with ebony up the rocky path towards the lighter area of the mine. He hadn't felt this strong for a while. Not near what he had been used to in the old days yet better than what he had been experiencing for a long time. He couldn't even complain too badly from the soot in the rock of the deep mines.
He coughed. "Scratch that last thought. Still better than usual." He figured it must have been the magic that girl had used on him the night before. He wasn't sure what would drive someone to do such a thing here. She had spoken of a "dear friend" that she knew. Ma'Nchitar hoped she wasn't looking for recognition. Contrary to popular belief, not all Khajiit knew each other. "Do'Jhar." He said aloud, spooking the person next to him.
"The 'ell was that for!?" Said an indignant, yet smooth and oddly attractive little voice. Dar'Jhirr turned, and saw no one. He raised an eyebrow and set down the cart. "You blind, then? Right here ya big fetcher." There was no one there that Ma'Nchitar could see. He turned his head every which way to find the source of the noise. This part of the shaft was empty except for him and his cart. The patrol wouldn't be here for another 80 seconds. Plus, there was something familiar about this sound.
"Who is there? This one has heard your voice before..." Ma'Nchitar looked around frantically. Nothing, he was sure of it. Then he felt a pain in his shin.
"Oy! Look down ya bleedin' furball horker!" Ma'Nchitar did as he was told, and met eyes with a very short Khajiit lady. His ever-raising eyebrow began threatening to disappear into his mane. She was attractive, even if she didn't come up much further at all than his waist. Everything was sized just perfectly in proportion, though. As if she had been scaled down just right. Ma'Nchitar was taken aback. Usually the bipedal Khajiit weren't this short unless they were Dagi-Raht, more humanlike. The Khajiit was a little aroused in spite of himself. They stared at each other for a couple seconds, then it hit him.
"Mi'Jhaka?" She cocked her head to the side in a quizzical look.
"Haven't been called that for years." The her eyes widened. "Black? C-Captain...Black?" The female jumped up, wrapped her arms around Ma'Nchitar's neck and kissed him "That's for the night in Sentinel.". Then, she dropped down and slapped him (a surprising feat considering the size difference). The Khajiit stepped back, dazed and confused. "And that was for the morning in Sentinel!"
"You tried to kill Ma'Nchitar!"
"You made yourself a target!" Ma'Nchitar forced a hand over her mouth, shushing her muffled cries of anger. There were footsteps coming from down the hall.
"Pile your load into the cart and follow Khajiit, quick." She growled but did what he said, and they continued up the path to the drop-off for ebony.
He coughed. "Scratch that last thought. Still better than usual." He figured it must have been the magic that girl had used on him the night before. He wasn't sure what would drive someone to do such a thing here. She had spoken of a "dear friend" that she knew. Ma'Nchitar hoped she wasn't looking for recognition. Contrary to popular belief, not all Khajiit knew each other. "Do'Jhar." He said aloud, spooking the person next to him.
"The 'ell was that for!?" Said an indignant, yet smooth and oddly attractive little voice. Dar'Jhirr turned, and saw no one. He raised an eyebrow and set down the cart. "You blind, then? Right here ya big fetcher." There was no one there that Ma'Nchitar could see. He turned his head every which way to find the source of the noise. This part of the shaft was empty except for him and his cart. The patrol wouldn't be here for another 80 seconds. Plus, there was something familiar about this sound.
"Who is there? This one has heard your voice before..." Ma'Nchitar looked around frantically. Nothing, he was sure of it. Then he felt a pain in his shin.
"Oy! Look down ya bleedin' furball horker!" Ma'Nchitar did as he was told, and met eyes with a very short Khajiit lady. His ever-raising eyebrow began threatening to disappear into his mane. She was attractive, even if she didn't come up much further at all than his waist. Everything was sized just perfectly in proportion, though. As if she had been scaled down just right. Ma'Nchitar was taken aback. Usually the bipedal Khajiit weren't this short unless they were Dagi-Raht, more humanlike. The Khajiit was a little aroused in spite of himself. They stared at each other for a couple seconds, then it hit him.
"Mi'Jhaka?" She cocked her head to the side in a quizzical look.
"Haven't been called that for years." The her eyes widened. "Black? C-Captain...Black?" The female jumped up, wrapped her arms around Ma'Nchitar's neck and kissed him "That's for the night in Sentinel.". Then, she dropped down and slapped him (a surprising feat considering the size difference). The Khajiit stepped back, dazed and confused. "And that was for the morning in Sentinel!"
"You tried to kill Ma'Nchitar!"
"You made yourself a target!" Ma'Nchitar forced a hand over her mouth, shushing her muffled cries of anger. There were footsteps coming from down the hall.
"Pile your load into the cart and follow Khajiit, quick." She growled but did what he said, and they continued up the path to the drop-off for ebony.