All-Flag Rangers: Part XII, Paradise Sugar

Elsweyr, 4E 97

A large quadruped khajiit, a foot taller in height than even Alessandros, passed the rangers on the road. The cat paused, glanced at them, then at the minotaur. Then he opened his mouth and let out a loud sonorous roar. Most of the rangers shifted slightly, turning so their hands could better reach their weapons. Alessandros blinked, then opened his mouth and let out his own bellow. The cat looked at him, nodded in a friendly way, then walked on.

"What did he say minotaur?" asked Aurelius.

"Oh, I not know," Alessandros replied absently, "But his breath smell sweet. I like him."

They were on the sand-shrouded remnants of some ancient road that skirted the edges of the Anequina Badlands, and all of the native cat-men they passed had the stink of moonsugar wafting from their mouths or person. It was a sickeningly sweet smell that would be stuck in the rangers' minds for the rest of their lives, forever associated with Elsweyr, along with blistering dry heat, sand-stinging winds, and the endless overhanging specter of the one question that constantly followed every visitor to Elsweyr: how much cat fur will I have to wipe off tonight?

They'd been moving through Elsweyr for the last week and a half, and it was during their stay in Rimmen that the rangers had first witnessed the capabilities of their new reptilian associate.

They'd stop to rest in one of the many boarderhouses and at Furioso's behest spent the better part of the night speaking and getting to know one another. While Iszir, Dram, and Alessandros were generally friendly and open, Aurelius, Lagerta, and Dagot-Ei were at times less than cordial. Aurelius was curt and, in moments outside of command, rarely bothered to speak with Alessandros. Most of the group - with the exception of Alessandros - found Lagerta to be generally rude or bigoted but she herself found issue only with Dram and Dagot-Ei due to her traditional biases. She thought of herself as open and to the point with the others, and hardly cared if they took offense to her blunt honesty. Dram had lived - and died - enough times to accept pretty much anyone whatever their issues, but despite his best efforts Dagot-Ei refused to directly acknowledge the dark elf and elected to speak to others about the dunmer rather than speak to him directly, and always using the title 'slaver' rather than his name. Furioso was generally liked as a wise man of age deserving of the respect that all their disparate cultures offered to their elders, and with the exception of Aurelius they all had a sense of protectiveness over the young minotaur. The captain himself had great respect for the moth priest, and got along very well with Iszir and Dram. Those three shared many tales of their times and exploits as legionnaire, sword-singer, or assassin.

It was on this night, sitting all about the moth priest's room in the boarderhouse, the rangers politely sipping the swampy tea Dagot-Ei had prepared for them (which Lagerta, having drank it several times now, was beginning to find more tolerable than the first disgusting draught. She theorized that, in time, she might even like it), that the subject of the argonian's skills came into question. The rangers asked what he could do, and his answer was always the same.

"Can you fight, and slay your enemies skillfully?" asked Lagerta.

"I may not do that." Dagot-Ei replied.

"Can ye sneak, slit throats, pick pockets, generally get around wit'out being seen?" asked Dram.

"I may not do that." Dagot-Ei replied.

"Do you know strategy? Can you guide a battle?" asked Aurelius.

"I may not do that." Dagot-Ei replied.

"Magic? Do you know any magic, friend?" asked Furioso.

"I may not do that." Dagot-Ei replied.

At which point the rangers collectively threw up their hands and plainly asked, Well what can you do?

"I can do anything," he replied, "Hist willing."

This answer was not satisfactory, or even understandable. He proposed then that they engineer a test for the following day, and he would see to its success.

The rangers thought what they could use, and while there were a few suggestions Aurelius shot them down for their extralegal nature. They might be outside the borders of the Empire, but they were still it's representatives and criminal actions undertaken by them would reflect poorly on it. They were stumped, until Dram remembered a sugar den they'd passed when searching for an inn. It was familiar to him and he could have sworn it was a meeting place for Thieves Guild, private assassins, murderers and other scum to discuss business or find peace and repose from the law. If they went there they were certain to find a reason to test him.

So it was decided. Dagot-Ei thought for a moment, then poured some viscious liquid from the tap installed in the gourd strapped to his back. He took a sip then sat in thought for a couple moments before nodding his head.

So it was agreed.

They arrived at the sugar den the next morning just after dawn and even as they walked in the scent of overused skooma pipes was heavy in the air. Decadence and addiction surrounded them - cutthroat cats in filthy leather armor bumped shoulders with nobles dressed in garishly colorful silks, the hems dirty and ragged from being crouched on and torn by dirty claws. There were cats lounging about with their budi shirts half-open, causing even the khajiit walking outside to cast scandaled eyes on what would otherwise be a perfectly reputable Rimmen sugar den.

The rangers crowded around one of the larger tables, sitting on pillows, leaning against the wall or crouching tensely. Seven rangers, counting Furioso. So they sat, ordered a few drinks, and waited.

Lagerta sipped her drink, grimaced and set it aside. The sugariest thing she'd ever consumed back in Skyrim was a sweetroll she'd bought once, on a whim, and hated. This drink was twelve times as sweet and it disgusted her. Dram gulped with gusto - there didn't seem to be much food he didn't like - while the men took small sips over time. Alessandros gulped it down in one long draught, the first glimpse of a childish sugar rush evident in his widening eyes. He'd never tasted anything as sweet and candylike as this. He waited as patiently as he could until the server came near, a cat-tailed bosmer-like looking khajiit, who he asked if he could please have another. She purred at him, saying he reminded her of her beautiful tojay-raht husband, with a twinkle in her eye and a touch on his arm. Alessandros did not ask for any more drinks after that. He just stared, blushing, into his cup as some other force overtook the sugar rushing in his blood. Dagot-Ei drank plain water. Aurelius asked if he didn't want something more interesting to drink, but Dagot-Ei said he preferred water. It's good for the memory, he said.

So they waited. There was nothing going on - skooma deals and skooma users sure, but this wasn't the Empire and they had no jurisdiction to interfere with that. The only thing they could count on was some kind of assault happening. Then they could intervene as good samaritans. But it seemed that today a troubled society was to be found elsewhere.

Sometime around nine the rangers were gathered, chuckling over a story Dram was telling about a meeting he'd sat in on between Tiber Septim and the King of Cats - who back then was a false flag for the real ruler of Elsweyr - and by sat in on he meant he lurked in a shadowed alcove in the ceiling trying not to drip sweat down onto the royal feline. They were almost done with the negotiations, so claimed Dram, when a bead of sweat evaded his watchful eye and dropped on the King of Cat's treaty document. He said the king saw it, but instead of looking up and noticing the assassin Tiber Septim had prepared for him the Cat simply stood and refused the treaty, saying that he would not join an empire where even the buildings sobbed in their servitude. Lagerta and Alessandros seemed to be taking this as historical fact, Dagot-Ei glaring at the dark elf, while Aurelius and Furioso laughed heartily and even Iszir cracked a small smile. But, said Dram, that wasn't the worst part because then, he began only to be interrupted when Aurelius started, leaning over the table and pointing to the other side of the sugar den.

"Blood of Akatosh," he cursed, "That man, right there."

The rangers glanced at where he pointed to see a tall, lanky nord man with once-pale sunburnt skin and a face like a pug had a disagreement with a spiked wall. He had only one ear and wore a big jade stud on it and sat at a small booth speaking with a fat khajiiti noble.

"That's Haeke Many-Ears," Aurelius said, "He's a serial murderer, not for money, not for work, just for fucking pleasure, though he'd take pay where he could. He escaped imperial custody while being transferred for his execution, and now of course I chance to see him when I'm outside jurisdiction."

"He looks like he has but one ear," Iszir observed, "not many."

"He had many once," Aurelius said grimly, "before we confiscated them all for evidence."

Dram whistled, "That's creepy. Creepy, creepy fella," he turned to the argonian, "Well g'luck to ya Daggertail, least you don't got ears to lose."

He didn't acknowledge the dunmer's quip. He simply stood and walked over to where the man sat. He gestured towards Haeke Many-Ears, reaching over their cups on the table, only to be intercepted by a large heavily muscled cathay-raht. The big cat, whose face had more scars than whiskers, said something to the argonian before shoving him away. Dagot-Ei returned to the table, his face betraying no emotion per the usual. He sat down on his pillow, his back to the rest of the den, and shrugged.

"The big cat, he says I am not to approach the Rimmen customs lord without his leave."

"The murderer is ruling over customs?" Furioso said with a smile in his voice, "How fitting."

"No mothbrother, he's with a 'jiit." said Aurelius. The cat sitting by Many-Ears wore a green and yellow sari over a bright red budi shirt over a wide gray-furred belly, had several golden hoops and studs in his sable mane and all over his twitching ears.

"Well what now?" asked Dram, "Do we wait till he does some crazy shit? Could be a bit."

"Allow me to try something," Furioso said with a slight smile as he stood. Aurelius leapt up and put a hand on the old priests' arm.

"Brother Furioso please, this is not a safe place."

"Don't worry Captain," said Furioso, "I am not a safe man."

The blind priest stood, placing his hands together within his wide wleeves and walked through the thickening crowd of people, weaving expertly between the people he could not see. He was quickly approaching the server who was stood next Haeke Many-Ears and the customs fatcat. He reached out to touch the server's shoulder but seemed to trip and accidently brushed against the murderer's face, his fingers clipping the nord man's ear. Haeke made a face of disgust and made as if to stand, but the fatcat made a pacifying gesture and said something, then scowled at Furioso and waved him off. Furioso, to his credit, was the very picture of elderly subservience. He bowed low to the fatcat and seemed to apologize profusely, his face contorted with the fear and shame only a weak old man well beyond the years of being capable of protecting himself could muster. He backed away, still bowing, till he returned to the table. He turned and they all saw that he wore a satisfied smile.

"That almost did something," said Lagerta in a bored voice, "then did absolutely nothing."

"There was, for a moment, a spark of red light when you brushed against the killer's ears," Iszir said, "Magic?"

"That's correct, my redguard friend. A touch of frenzy, a bit delayed," said Furioso, "What was that you said before Dram? 'Wait until he does some crazy shit?' Should be just a bit. It'll activate any moment no-"

The priest was interrupted by the sound of Haeke's roar as he reached over and tore the fatcat's gold-hooped ear off. He let out a mad laugh, clutching the bloody ear in one hand like it was gold as he pulled a dagger out of his vest pocket with the other hand and plunged it into the surprised guard's crotch, twisting it upwards to reach the balls. All around the rangers cats were skittering and screeching, trying to get out and away from the madman. They heard one khajiiti woman say to her partner as they fled,

"Too much moon! These foreigners cannot accept the sacred sugar, it makes them lunatics!"

Lagerta nodded at Dagot-Ei.

"Now is your chance argonian, so get."

But Dagot-Ei didn't stand. He calmly sipped his water in front of the rangers, the spectacle of Haeke madly stabbing at the dying guard and the sobbing fatcat far behind the argonian a discordant image.

"Oh I have already made my play," he said calmly, "A touch of nightshade poison, dropped into his drink." the argonian took another sip of water, "Should be just a bit. Will activate any moment now."

Dagot-Ei placed a small vial with a few drops of black liquid on the center of the table. The rangers all looked impressed, especially Dram who was surprised to recognize tricks of his trade. They all congratulated Dagot-Ei as, in the background behind him, Haeke Many-Ears went from stabbing the two corpses to clutching at his own throat, stumbling into hookah stands and falling over the empty tables sending cups crashing to the floor before the owner of the sugar den, a short but wide-hipped cathay, waddled over and casually placed her knife into the thrashing murderer's eye, ceasing his destructive death throes before any more property loss.

"Well then," Aurelius said, somewhat appreciatively, "I suppose this is your proper welcome to the team then. Thank you for the demonstration."

So he spoke, but Dagot-Ei was somewhere else. In his head an old shadowscale assassin was rotely preparing a draught of nightshade poison with the expert hands of one who was, in his heart of hearts, an alchemist and an artist, but who had turned to serve Sithis as was his familial duty . Dagot-Ei sipped the last of his water as the last hint of the memories faded from his mind, and with it all recollection of the formulas for producing the potent mixture.

"No," he said to Aurelius with a slight bow of his head, "We may thank the Hist for this gift."

Dram pulled his cup away from the poison,

"That's good and all, but don't put that shit anywhere near my drink."

So went the Ranger's stay in Rimmen, before they set out on the road to Anequina.

Part XIII, The Shifting Sands