Private Legend of Lies

"Good. I don't know when he's leaving, probably by morning light tomorrow." Elsa turned her head to look as one of the taverns windows rattled savagely in its frame, struck by repeated gusts of wind and snow, the glass chipped, grubby and covered in a fine layer of grease and dust.

"I would suggest speaking to him sooner rather than later, but I would understand if you wished to enjoy my company a while longer. As I said, his room is over down that corridor behind us. I could introduce you if you like, or just leave it to you. You're more than capable of course."

Frankly, he would have enjoyed nothing more, although he noticed- whether due to the mead, sheer tiredness, or a combination of both - that her words were becoming increasingly laboured.

"Perhaps it is time we both retired."

He finished the last of his ale. "I will go and seek this mages employ."

Finishing her mead Elsa stretched lazily in her seat, and despite her exhaustion becoming her apparent her movements remained feline. Though she would have loved to continue talking, she was feeling her eyelids start to droop, her limbs heavier than she remembered. Sighing contentedly she stood up, her ahnds resting on her waist as she rolled her shoulders.

"You might be right. I haven't had a good nights sleep in so long I can't remember." Laughing mirthlessly she gave Sander a warm look. "Good luck with Zhar, I look forward to working along side you." Tipping her head in farewell she casually sauntered back to her room, unlocking the door and only taking the time to kick off her boots and removed her cape and daggers before curling up on the hard bed and drifting into a deep sleep.

Sander watched her go, now sat alone in a mostly empty tavern. The fire burned low in the hearth, a faint red glow shifting through the ashes and embers.

Getting to his feet, he moved through the darkened inn; against one of the doors, a small scrap of parchment stood out pale in the gloom. He could just make out the word "Khajiit" written in a spidery scrawl. The knight raised a gloved fist to knock at the door.

Zhar turned his head to the door for he heard someone knocking. "Excuse me." He was speaking to Oriton. Zhar moved towards the door and opened it. In the hallway stood a young Redguard man wearing steel plate armor. Zhar assumed he was seeking glory and treasure in order to make a name for himself, but he wouldn't be surprised if he was wrong. He enjoyed being wrong on occasion. "May I help you?"

Sander was caught off guard when a Khajiit of indeterminable age opened the door. The cat had grey fur streaked with black, and, unusually, the knight thought, blue eyes.

However, he was evidently the mage Elsa had referred to; his garb clearly marked him as a magic-user. Sander had some experience with Khajiit - he had travelled with the caravans of both Ri'saad and Ma'dran as a hired sword - and a more limited experience with those who practiced in magicka, but he had never met a Khajiiti sorcerer.

"Sander, of Frostfount Keep," the knight introduced himself. "I was told you might be in need of assistance on an expedition of sorts?"

Zhar studied what the Redguard told him. "Frostfount Keep?" the thought. The Khajiit smiled because he came to a conclusion "The noble family from Hammerfell? Why are you here in Skyrim? And more importantly why have you decided to inquire about my expedition?" Zhar could not see why a noble would want to join a band of hired mercenaries heading for a tomb.

The Khajiit smiled at him, baring pointed teeth. Sander was never sure what to make of Khajiiti smiles; the "Krin", which could mean the cat was being friendly, was entertained, or was about to go for your throat - sometimes all these things simultaneously.

In this instance, he interpreted the smile at face value, just for what it was: a smile.

The Khajiits knowledge of his background threw him somewhat off-balance, however. Either he was a well-versed scholar, and learned in the genealogies of the minor houses of Cyrodiil, or . . . the knight did not know what he could be otherwise. However, on this point the conjurer was mistaken.

"A common misconception. House Frostfount is Cyrodiilic in origin. The ties with Hammerfell came much later in its history." He had not meant to sound so abrupt, but everything about this mage had so far disarmed him. Sander only used his title, the name of his house, when offering his service: it increased his prestige. Nobody ever knew who he was.

"As to why I am in Skyrim, the matter is of no great import. Suffice to say I am seeking my fortune on the road. Here is as good a place as any."

A bold-faced lie, but a knight seeking adventure was no uncommon thing, and people hardly ever asked questions. At least, they hadn't until he met this Khajiiti mage.

Sander was greatly unnerved, but, he assured himself, he had no real reason to be. The cat did not know the history of his house, nor could he know the ruin which had befallen it.

Zhar saw an uneasy feeling show in the eyes of the young Redguard. Zhar took pity, his ears flattened and his face softened into a meek frown. "I'm sorry about what happened to your family. Falling into the common folk must be a tough transition." Zhar moved farther into his room, passing the Imperial and stood by his table. "Well it's relatively late so I hope you don't mind it if I were to give you the short description of my task. A band of merchants stumbled upon a hidden tomb in The Reach that dates back to the First Era, more importantly to the reign of King Harald." It is obvious the constant repetition of the adventure has become a bore to Zhar but he kept speaking. "Now it is my assumption that this tomb may be related to someone who played a role in the Gauldur Legend. If Zhar is correct then we may be able to rewrite history. There is no pay, you keep what I allow you to take from the tomb. Any questions?"

His discomfiture must have been marked clearly on his face for the cat to see, as the Khajiits ears laid flat against his skull and he adopted an apologetic expression.

His next words struck the young Redguard like a blow. "I'm sorry about what happened to your family."

Sanders mind reeled, incredulous. How could this scholar, this cat, an utter stranger, have come by such information?

Few knew of Frostfount Keep, even when it was a living, vibrant settlement; fewer still knew of it's destruction, the fort a blackened shell and the inhabitants and their homes put to fire and the sword.

He put out a hand to steady himself, dimly aware of the Khajiit moving further into the room and speaking of the task, but he was unable to focus.

Words spilled from his mouth unbidden, the voice uttering them harsh, alien to him: "What do you presume to know of my family?"

Seeing the discomfort of the Redguard made Zhar uneasy. He wasn't sure if his temper would best him and lash out. Hoping to defuse any tension Zhar simply stated "Only what I've learned from books. The College has quite the library and it houses more information than one would expect. I apologize if I overstepped any boundaries."

The knight took a swift stride towards the Khajiit, simmering with rage, his vision swimming and blurring at the edges.

An inner voice cried out at him to stop, to master this directionless fury before it mastered him.

Suddenly the anger was gone, leaving only a wave of overwhelming sadness. His vision still hazy, he raised a hand to his eyes, and the back of his glove came away wet; he had not been blinded by rage, but by tears.

He sucked in a shuddering breath.

"The apology should be mine. I am weary, sir. However, if it please you, I will join you on your venture at daybreak. I have nothing more to ask."

Zhar walks up to the young Redguard man and places his hand on his shoulder. Softly Zhar speaks to Sander "Get some rest, we can talk more later. We leave shortly after day break." and with that Zhar walked the young one to the door. After he left Zhar turned to the strange Imperial. "I trust you have heard all you need to hear this evening. Go get some sleep. We can talk tomorrow."

The Khajiit, Zhar, gently rested a hand on his shoulder. Not wishing to offend his new employer, a man he had almost violently assaulted, and drawing a measure of comfort from the Khajiits consoling and friendly gesture, the young man let it sit there as he was ushered to the door.

He half-imagined it was the strong arm of his father there, guiding him, but then both the memory and the Khajiit were gone and the knight was alone in the dark corridor.

Dar'Saie sighed, he had drunken much in the way of ale now. He ran his finger over his blade, feeling the coldness of the weapon.

After discussing the expedition with the young Imperial no deal was struck. Zhar bid the young one a fine night and walked him out of the room. Turning around Zhar walked over to his bed and hung his satchel from his shoulder, he did not want to leave anything behind to be stolen. Opening his door he peered into the dark hallway and found it to be empty; silently Zhar exited his room, closing the door behind him, and walked down the hall.

When Zhar reached the end of the hall he saw the Khajiit thief at the bar drinking, it appears that the spirits have taken their toll on the cat. Staring into the back of the Khajiit, Zhar tried to decide if this thief could be trusted. Unlike the attractive Nord woman, this one had no sense of decency or tact. This troubled him and he made note to warn his company of him. Zhar slowly walked up behind him and tapped his shoulder. Leaning forward Zhar spoke in a hushed tone: "We leave tomorrow shortly after daybreak. You best get some sleep." After giving this advice to the thief he quickly began to search for his other companions.

Zhar walked up the stairs into the musty drinking hall. Standing at the top of the steps Zhar scanned the patrons of the tavern but could not find a familiar face. This brought disappointment to Zhar, his face began to soften and his ears laid back, the attractive Nord woman wasn't in the room. He hoped to speak to Elsa before retiring for the evening, she brought joy to Zhar and he wanted to feel the warmth that her smile gave his heart for a just a moment before the darkness of slumber took his mind. Zhar turned himself around to move back down the steps, Zhar sulked down the staircase, showing no care in how he held himself.

When he reached the base of the staircase he turned and walked up to the bar to speak with Elda. She was growing tired and was yawning as she was wiping down used mugs. "Excuse me but I would like to purchase breakfast for myself, Elsa, Kjorvir, Sander, and Dar'Saie, to be ready and served in their rooms around daybreak." Zhar reached into his robes and took out a coin purse, he extracted the coin needed for the breakfasts and placed the gold into Elda's waiting hands.

Elda accepted the gold and promised to fulfill the task. Zhar thanked the Nord woman and walked back down the hall. Stopping at his door Zhar pulled down the note he hung their and crumpled it. Entering his room Zhar let out a sigh of fatigue. The day was a long one and he desired to sleep. He set his satchel aside on the floor, unclothed himself, and climbed into bed. Before drifting off to sleep Zhar let one smile form on his lips.


When the sun rose above the horizon Elda was busy at work. Carrying a tray of food she approached Zhar's door and knocked. This woke Zhar and he let out a small moan. Sitting up in bed Zhar called out to Elda, telling her he was on his way. Zhar rubbed his eyes then stood up. He walked over to the wardrobe and took out a pair of pants, he put them on. Then walked over to the door and opened it. He smiled to the woman and accepted his tray. "Wait one moment." He told her. He walked over to his table and placed his tray down. He picked up his satchel from the floor and opened it, searching for something. Out of the satchel Zhar extracted a gleamblossom flower, with it in hand Zhar approached the Nord woman, extending it to her. "Give this to Elsa with her breakfast. Make sure to put it in a vase with some water. I would hate for it to wither on her." Zhar knew that the flower was well preserved in his pack but his excitement placed worry ahead of his wit. Elda took the flower, promising to deliver Elsa her breakfast first so the flower would be okay, and left down the hall. Zhar closed his door and began to eat his breakfast...

Dawn had broken over the dark alleyways of Windhelm. Stretching languidly in her bed Elsa blinked a few times as she gained her senses. Her mouth felt dry and fuzzy, though her head didn't ache. Sitting up she ran her fingers through hair that had come loose while she slept and she began to refasten and strap her leathers back into place. This, she thought, is why she hated sleeping in her armour. Once satisfied that her bodice, greaves and bracers were secure and straightened she heard a knock at the door. Frowning she grabbed one of her daggers she had stowed away under her pillow and held it back as she opened the door. Seeing it was Elda she smiled and slipped the dagger into the back of her leather trousers.

Nodding a good morning Elda set a tray of food down on the table beside the bed. Oddly there was a flower in some water on her tray. A flower Elsa had never set eyes on before, it was certainly not one of the flora found locally. Elda must have noticed the focus of her attention as she gave a short laugh and wiped her hands on her apron. "From the Khajit. He insisted." Winking at Elsa as she left, Elda let out another giggle, firmly shutting the door behind her.

"The khajit?"

Picking up the bloom in her hand she looked at it with curiosity, lifting it to her nose to smell. In the dim light the flower seemed to glow, it's presence almost ethereal. Even the fragrance was completely unknown to her. She twirled the stalk between her fingers, once, twice, before returning the flower to it's small vase of water. Why Zhar would have thought to send her a flower was not entirely unknown to her. She was far from naive. Still it did give her pause for thought. Between Zhar, Sander and that nord who'd kept looking her way last night Elsa realised that this job was to be very different to those she'd done in the past. "I might be in over my head here papa."

Ignoring the flower for now she set upon enjoying the meal, quickly remembering to remove the dagger from the back of her trousers before sitting, wondering if she should offer her coins to Zhar for payment. She would ask later, though if the flower was anything to go by she didn't expect him to accept her payment. Once her tray was clear Elsa sighed, brushing through her hair with her fingers and quickly braiding it to hopefully keep it from her face. It was a hopeless cause as she knew that sooner of later strands would free themselves as they always did. Arming herself once more with her daggers she fastened her cloak around her shoulders before crouching to pull her pack from under the floorboards once more. Ensuring the plank of wood was back in place she checked through her belongings, wasting no time in slinging her quiver over her shoulder. Ulfvindr had lain beside her pack and now she tok time to check it for any scratches or damage it may have taken. Once certain her most prized possession was unscathed she attached it to the quiver on her back, smiling softly at the reassuring weight at her back. Looking once more at the flower on her tray she wondered what to do with it. Without it's water surely it would wilt and fade, but she frowned at the idea of leaving it behind at the tavern. Picking it from it's water she resolved to simply take it with her. Before leaving her room she lifted her father's amulet of Talos from under her bodice, gripping the metal firmly till the blunt metal bit into her palm. "May Talos guide me, may shadow hide me." It was a sort prayer, an offering to both dive and daedric, but she never left for a job without softly uttering the words.

Checking the room for any left behind belongings she pushed open the heavy wood door and strode into the main entrance, her pack secure around her torso. Handing the key to the room to Elda she sat upon a stool by the bar, waiting for signs from her newest companions, the blossom twirling between her fingers.

Zhar finished his morning meal quickly. Standing up from the table Zhar stretched his limbs and body to prepare himself for the day, all the while thoughts of the Nord woman raced through his mind. Wondering if he was too assertive by sending a gift after only a brief meeting. Should he try to play it off as simple ethics or should he blush at the thought of his attraction to the Nord? He wasn't sure what to do, his wealth of arcane knowledge could not help him in this situation and this troubled Zhar; all his life magic held the answers to his questions but for the first time it held not a single clue.

Zhar's mind was racing, heart began to pound. His movements became faster as he opened his wardrobe to reach for his robes. As he put them on Zhar was questioning himself as to why he is attempting to court a Nord woman. "Yes she is beautiful, but they have only met. She might be playing a façade. She may hate Khajiit and will just tolerate him so she may receive her payment. But she smiled so innocently. How could she hold hatred for cats?"

When Zhar was finished dressing himself and gathering his belongings he scanned his room to make sure he did not leave anything behind, notes can be worth more than gold to the right people. Zhar opened his door and walked down the hallway.

Reaching the bar Zhar saw Elsa was already awake and twirling the gleamblossom between her fingers. His ear twitched and his eyes studied her as much as they could in but a moment of time. He swallowed the knot in his throat and sat down at the bar besides her.

"Well, good morning Nord woman. I trust you slept well?" said Zhar, with a smile on his face that hid his exuberance. "And I hope the breakfast was to your liking as well." Anticipating backlash from Elsa, Zhar turned his face towards Elda and asked her for a drink.

Elsa must have let her mind drift too far as she hardly noticed the mage approach. Startling she quickly regained her composure, briefly looking down to the flower in her hands before raising her gaze to greet Zhar. At his odd greeting Elsa raised a delicate eyebrow, her lips curving into an amused smirk. "Nord Woman? You know you can call me Elsa. Breakfast was lovely thank you, if you let me know how much it cost you I'm sure I can reimburse you for my share." Looking at the flower in her hands she wondered whether or not to broach the topic or not. It was a strange situation. Give her a suicidal job and she would be fine as long as she had her bow and her wit, but throw her into a situation where people's feelings are involved? No amount of arrows can help deal with that, regardless of how often Elsa wished they did.

"I have to say Zhar, I've never seen a flower like this before. Where did you find it? It almost looks like it's from another plan of existence all together." Her voice was gentle, filled with awe as she was entranced by the gentle glow of the blossom, her fingers lightly touching the petals in wonderment. Looking up to the hallway she wondered if the others would join them soon. With her surprise at the gifted flower she was caught off guard, the act highly unexpected. Teamed with being practically alone with the khajit had her head running through scenarios and conversations. It was...distracting.

Dar'Saie stood up, his head pounding. He remembered where he was, and decided to find Zhar. He rememebered little of the night before, and best find out if he had mad a fool of himself. He found a breakfast on his bedside table, and ate as if he hadnt had a meal in weeks. HE grabbed his things, and went hunting for the others.

"Mammoth piss!!"

Kjorvir awoke with a start after his consciousness shook him from his dream. Blast, I didn't order breakfast! The Nord had been so tired after his evening of too much business and ale, he'd been ushered out of Zhar's room and headed straight to his accommodation. He sat up quickly in bed, his thick triceps twinging at the sudden burst of action after a solid sleep. Throwing the covers off, he noticed just how cold his room had been during the night, as his body shivered and sought the warmth of the bed again. The knock at the door startled him as he pulled on his clothes, almost knocking him off his unsteady feet.

"Who is it?"

"It's me you fool. I have breakfast, hurry up."

Usually Kjorvir would have admitted he hadn't ordered breakfast, expecting it to be carted off to its rightful owner. But this morning, Kjorvir was ravenous.

"Give me a second, you daft old crone."

"It's from the Khajiit, the mage, what's his name..."

Kjorvir flung the door open, half dressed as he inhaled the mouth-watering aroma from the plate of food.

"... Zhar, the Khajiit's name is Zhar. Thankyou Elda."

Kjorvir took the tray and Elda closed the door behind herself, wafting more cold air across Kjorvir's shoulders. He could barely believe his eyes. Well well Khajiit, this is a very good start.