Chapter 1 - A forced decision.
As always in this part of Tamriel the weather stifling, the scorching temperatures combined with the humid air, a common attribute from being so close to the Topel sea. A sigh escaped his lips, stepping through the door from outside, greeted by the faces of his family. Da'Shavira, only just coming of age yet was growing tiresome of the tropical forests of Elsweyr, the fables and stories he had heard from this continents vast history excited him, he wanted to explore the world, follow the footsteps his idol had left behind.
"Da'Shavira has grown weary of this place." The Khajiit exhaled, exasperated, falling upon the wooden chair by the door after taking off his hunting bow and hanging it on the small hook, placed on the wall for that very thing. His family wasn't affluent however they were not at the bottom of Elsweyr society either, each member having to put in their own work in order for the household to survive. His sister as an example combed Tenmar forest sugar cames for the mystical Moon Sugar, a high position in Khajiit society, Moon Sugar being considered a gift from clan mother Hermorah, although illegal through out Tamriel the Khajiit believe that by consuming the highly addictive substance, they consume part a small part of the eternal souls of Jone and Jode, the moon gods. Da'Shavira always took such stories with a pinch of salt however, he knew there were gods which effected mortal kind, such things were hard to deny when the evidence was there for anyone wishing to delve deeper then various books which often are scattered in bookshelves. However such stories he had found when researching into the facts were often exaggerated. His mother, showing her age through the grey markings which were coming more apparent looked up from the book which lay open on the table, her eyes wide as if she already knew where this was heading.
"What would my child wish to do to alleviate such?" Her soft feline voice over coming the silence which followed his words, she was afraid that she already knew the answer to the question, and yet his voice would need to confirm it before she believed it. In truth she had expected this conversation for some time, having observed him when hunting from afar, his interactions in the market place within Riverhold, the books he had been reading, she could of mouthed the words which tumbled from his lips if she so wished, however she didn't wish to believe.
"Da'Shavira craves adventure, new places and new face, forests of Elsweyr provide little excitement for this one." Her head dropped as soon as the words released, times had not calmed down since the arrival and disappearance of the dragons, though chaotic times some would say the continent was in a worse state since the Dovahkiin had passed on. She tried not to show her fear however, hoping that he would not pick up on such things and with that, resolve that adventure must be sought.
"Their is nothing out there for our kind young Da'Shavira, even in our own lands we meet prejudice from our new rulers, many Khajiit leave for adventure only to meet hardship, your family wishes you remain here." Da'Shavira nodded his head, though if he was true to himself he was disappointed, however he was grateful of what his family provided him, proud of their history throughout the ages and as such respected her wishes. His father however had been listening to the conversation, striking a chord within him, before settling down he had much the same cravings. He did however agree with his mate, their family was strong and given the current times it would be considered dangerous for anyone to adventure alone.
The rest of the evening took on a somber tone, not many words were exchanged and an early night, at least for Da'Shavira was keenly observed. His dreams as always were plagued with the adventures of the Dovahkiin, this wasn't exactly uncommon with the youth of Tamriel, the stories still fresh in the minds of those whom lived through it. Often the fires of taverns and inn's were warmed by the songs of some bard recalling Alduin the world eaters return, swallowed by the Dovahkiin on the plane of Sovngarde. In the other room however still both his parents were up, his father explaining that he understood how Da'Shavira felt, himself having the same urges. He lifted one paw to place over hers, her bowing her head, she knew ultimately he must leave home, but she didn't wish for him to be exposed to the continent yet. After a few hours and more then one reassurance that she had indeed made the right decision they decided to retire for the night, tomorrow is a new day, where new adventure may strike him in his home of Elsweyr.
The sun dawned causing Da'Shavira to open his eyes, since he was young he watched the sun rise over the border of Cyrodiil, Riverhold being so close to his goal, and yet realizing it so far away, this tradition reminding him that the sun casts it's rays over lands he had not seen. Within an hour he was ready, dressed in his rudimentary leather armour crafted by someone local, the Khajiit not well know for their black smithing skills for a reason. Picking up his bow from the hook by the door he ventured out into the familiar forest, heading north like he usually did, the game much better then the tropical forests.
Another uneventful day, save for the bear that he had managed to kill and skin for it's pelt. a couple of rabbit haunches, as well as managing to catch some venison. In truth it had been a productive day, however it didn't satisfy his need, his thirst for adventure, heavy foot falls upon the paved road, obvious that he was disheartened. Reaching his home, pushing open the splintered wooden door he was not met with the same faces as before, though one was missing, his father whom usually sat by the corner, watching the goings on of the family. The door swung back, striking his shoulder and yet he did not move, his eyes cast upon his mother, her head bowed over a book upon the table, the title 'The pocket guide to the empire.'
"Mother?" Hi voice quivered as he spoke, instantly he could tell something was wrong, despite the lack of tears she held back.
"Da'Shavira sit down, this one needs to explain." She could not hold them back any longer, crystaline tears falling upon the leather bound book as she retold the story through the eyes of the observers. His father whom had visited the market to help alleviate his sons urges of visiting new places, decided that he would find a book which would explain the provinces in detail, allowing Da'Shavira to at least know of the lands he wished to experience. Some however did not take too kindly on him wishing to know of the other provinces, the Thalmor being in control of Elsweyr, known for muddying the truth to their own gains, wished not that a Khajiit could learn the truth of the past two hundred years. In short he was murdered in the streets, causing a slight uprising with the locals however soon quelled by the Thalmor agents, the local population already showing signs that the Thalmor were no longer welcomed in their lands.
Da'Shavira did not say a word, standing up from the table and exiting with a determined march. His mother weeping between the tears that had fallen, she knew this was their last conversation just as Da'Shavira knew his sister would look after his mother in mourning. Upon travelling towards Riverholds center, his thoughts clouded by that most primal of instincts, revenge. His steps became faster, his back arching over to take on his more feral form, four paws upon the muddied ground, charging towards the gold tinted figure in the distance. Not a few seconds had lept in the air, his front paws reaching for the sheaths of the twin ebony daggers, given as a gift for coming of age by his father. Before the golden figure could turn, gilded Elven armour useless as they both fell to the floor, a pool of scarlet liquid staining the floor. Da'Shavira did not move, his eyes focused upon the long auburn hair which cascaded over those tell tale pointed ears, both daggers embedded in the Thalmor's neck.
"I'l skin you alive cat, your fur will be my armour!" Instantly recognizable arrogance from the Altmer, blood lust eyes turned towards the group whom were now approaching, he knew only a fool would take them head on, standing from the corpse, no emotion within his eyes, merely turning upon his paws and ran. It was time to leave this province, to enter his life as an adventurer, his quest of revenge for his father.
To be continued ...
