All-Flag Rangers: Part XIV, In the Desert Hold
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Elsweyr, 4E97
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Back at the khajiiti tribe's wagon camp Aurelius gathered his rangers, most of whom were still rubbing their rope-raw wrists. He gave them instructions to keep their weapons sheathed and pretend their imprisonment had never happened - they were honored guests now, the ropes something to be forgotten. He had no desire to insult the desert khajiit's new-found hospitality by bringing up something that, again, had never happened. Lagerta didn't even bother complaining. These crazy cats were at least better than the two eastern nations, though not by much.
As Aurelius spoke he caught Dram's eye, who gave him a slight nod. Aurelius continued his speech.
Later as they walked with the warband towards their hold Aurelius approached Dram in the center of the rangers, away from khajiiti ears.
"Tell me."
"Well," Dram said slowly, "first of all you gotta remember I ain't been in Elsweyr in bout three hundred years, so my ear for ta'agra is a little rusty. Add in a few centuries of linguistic drift, and, well, I might be reporting wrong to be honest."
"Understood," said Aurelius, "What did you gather?"
"Nothing much really. They're a regular desert tribe and sometimes bandits like the ones ya'll saw try and hide out from other countries in the Anequina. These tribes usually do how they did - kill a couple and scare or embarass the rest well enough that they'll get the hell out and then spread the story, hopefully keeping anyone else from entering the deserts. Oh and some foreign merchant apparently arrived in the hold after the warband left and everyone's excited to trade with 'em. That's it, really."
"Good," Aurelius said, "I don't want any surprises, so keep your ears open."
Dram nodded, then grinned. "Man I can't wait to see how these cats mess with El."
Aurelius laughed, "Let's just keep her from killing anyone. We're already witnesses in the murder of a customs official, let's not get any more involved with the local governments."
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Ra'shazzad's warband arrived at their hold near noon, the rangers following near the wagons. Hata, Ra'shazzad's squat little lackey, scurried back to help the rangers and keep them from causing any problems. They were unimpressed as they approached what seemed to be a literal hole in the wall - a wide cave in the side of a rocky mesa that jutted out of the sands, casting a deep shadow across the dunes. They entered the cavern, Lagerta shaking her head at these cats who lived like beasts in caves. Dagot-Ei said nothing, he just broke into a loping run to get under the shade, the wide-brimmed farmer's hat Dram had bought in Morrowind flying off his head. Dram had given it to Aurelius and asked him to pass it on to the Argonian who was drying out faster than a fish out of water, knowing he wouldn't accept it from the dunmer himself. As Dagot-Ei ran under the cover of shade the cats in the band all jeered and laughed, cheering him on in the breathy, hissy mewling ta'agra tongue.
The band proceeded through, unhitching their wagons in the cave and unloading their spoils manually. Hata led the rangers to collect Dagot-Ei - who was laying basking in the shade - then through the cave and into the hold proper. The sight, though nothing compared to the Imperial City, awed even Aurelius for it's unexpected artistry.
The hold was carved into the very walls and floor of the mesa itself. House crawled over one another, with one house at ground level bordered by stairs chiseled into the rock itself that led up to houses that were hewn out of the stone as well, going deeper in as it rose except for the center, where the hollow mesa bulged on either side forming two jutting points that almost touched in the middle. There was small rope bridge between them and buildings have been carved even into the arch itself. The place was busy, little farms on the rooftops supported whatever crops could grow, including corn-like vegetables and water-filled semi-cacti. Khajiit of all shapes and sizes scrambled about working or lazing about, and all shapes and sizes was to be taken literally. A massive senche-raht was walking through the center hold, a dagi clinging on to each shoulder chattering away as it turned it's head between them to respond. Elsewhere a suthay-raht was tilling a rooftop garden while an alfiq tore out weeds with his teeth. A group of cats were crouched around a cathay who was hunched over an ohmes, tattooing symbols and shapes onto her face. The big senche-raht reached the other side of the mesa where the two dagi leapt off the shoulders to cling to the cliff-walls, chisels in hand, to hew out a new home while the senche-raht acted as both mobile ladder and a crane for moving materials from the ground to the workers.
The rangers watched in awe at the amazingly austere yet complex society in this hold.
"How many people live here?" Iszir asked Hata. The little ohmes-raht shrugged,
"Hata does not know for certain. Three, maybe four thousand?"
"And how many do you got him like?" Dram asked, hooking a finger in the senche-raht's direction.
"Ah, S'vashari is the only senche-raht in the hold. We are very careful in this hold, during the moonths that preceed her birth-moonths we only follow our loins when they direct us to the impregnable." Hata stood proudly, "Hata's tribe is very wise and well disciplined. S'vashari was early-born, so she became senche-raht. We do not have the space to accomadate any more."
Hata set up the rangers in one of the newly-carved houses that had yet to be occupied. He grabbed J'agashe and they both ran off, returning with their arms laden with many rugs. They dumped them into seven piles in the house to serve as the ranger's beds.
After the ranger's kicked at the piles a bit, which Hata took as their foreign way of inspecting their beds, he spoke,
"Our food we will not feed you, apologies if that offends but we do not want you to have the lunacy that happens when smoothskins consume too much of the sugar," Hata led the rangers out of the little cave-house, "Hata will take you to see the imperial trader who is here, he has manfood you all may purchase."
The merchant it turned out was back close to the cave they'd entered through, on the left side in a little alcove in the wall where he'd set up his caravan. Hata introduced them to him, a colovian man with sun-darkened skin by the name of Ganton. His eyes grew wide as Hata stumbled over their names that he'd already forgotten. One he did get right was Aurelius, and that was when Ganton's jaw dropped. He stepped up to shake the captain's hand.
"Captain... Aurelius?" he laughed, "Gods alive... you're the All-Flag Rangers aren't you!"
"Eh?" said Furioso.
"Yes sir, that would be right," Aurelius said slowly, confused, "You've heard of us?"
"Heard of you?" the man laughed again, "Who hasn't! Leastwise back home anyways. Oh my gods, ya'll are legends, spreading like fire. My kids, they won't hear anything else afore they go to sleep. It's always, 'tell us bout the Rangers slaughtering the raven-witches of the Rock', or 'tells us bout the Rangers 'gainst the six thousand racers', and all the stories. Ya'll are heroes!"
"We kindly thank you for the praise," Furioso bowed his head.
"It's just like the stories too! The Rangers eight and one Priest, oh this is amazing," Ganton was waving his arms as they purchased his goods. As each of the Rangers came up to buy some food he would say to them, "Here's the Slither-Captain Aurelius and his serpentine eyes that pierce the souls of evil doers, it's a pleasure sir, real pleasure to meet a veteran and a hero of your stature," who was followed by Iszir, "And now his trusty lieutenant Silent Iszir the Sword-Singer, the Warrior of the Rangers. Gods alive, I'll never filch a single coin in my life if you were a guard, I can feel danger comin' off ya like a thick cloud of, of... of danger!"
Alessandros shyly shuffled forward with Lagerta at his side, "And the Grandchild of the Wind! Merciful Alessandros Gore-Horns, Defender of Alessia's own Men! Cared over by Storm-Voiced Lagerta the Wind-Walker! Oh or the Wind-Speaker either one I heard 'em all! I heard tell you were his grandfather, confused me since I always thought Lagerta was a woman's name, which that striking figure sure confirms to me," Ganton gushed with a wide, somewhat flirtatious smile. Alessandros blushed and shuffled away. Lagerta growled.
"Oh my... Dram Many-Lived! The heartless dark elf assassin thats found redemption in the Empire's service for his years of heathen iniquities, my oh my. I welcome you gladly into the Imperial Cult of Arkay, my lord!" Dram grinned and took his food, not bothering to tell the man he hadn't worshipped any gods in centuries.
Dagot-Ei bowed politely and asked for plain water and meat. "You must be the Wet-Skinned One Who Knows All, we know all about you too you're great!" Dagot-Ei did not receive his food till he asked again. He set his eyes to annoyed blinking mode, but humans didn't read as much emotion from blinking as argonians did. "But you know, you feature a bit less in the stories, though I figured you was argonian though they don't say, y'know, along with the Fur-Clad Healer-Monk and the seductive tre-"
"Thank you for the purchase," Aurelius said curtly, cutting the man off and walking away with a gesture for the Rangers to follow. They walked away awkwardly as Ganton continued gushing, then grabbed the nearest cat and went on about the rangers. The cat looked at Ganton with a smile and nodded, her pupils widely dilated, fingers twitching with the start of a sugar fit. He decided she was the perfect audience and went full on fan-mode, but in reality all she could think was that this man speaking in some tongue she didn't know had marvelous teeth and wondered how they'd look dancing on his tongue like showgirls.
"I don't like this," Aurelius said as they reentered their hut.
"Tell me bout it," said Dram, "Assassins ain't supposed to be famous. You guys are bad for my business."
Aurelius ignored him, "Nobody should know anything about us, let alone what we've done. How can there be stories?"
"Perhaps," Furioso said slowly, thinking, "It was the Cult of Morihaus that we ran into in Morrowind. It would make sense for them to follow us, seeing as an 'incarnation' of their god is among our numbers. They follow, see the fight with the cliff-racers, wisely decide not to follow us into Black Marsh and go to Cyrodiil instead, spreading the tale as they go."
"Maybe," Aurelius said, "But that wouldn't explain Orphan Rock. There was nobody there to see us."
"When Lagerta led us out of Skyrim she made us stop in Helgen so she could tell them the hagravens were dead. Could be the story spread from there."
"Maybe," Aurelius said again, his thin face contorted in thought, "I just don't like it. Feels like we're being watched."
Furioso pointed out the window into the sky, "They say the sun is the eye of Magnus himself. Maybe we are being watched, watched over by the gods."
"Maybe." Aurelius said. Magnus, the Great Architect, he thought sourly. He didn't want to think about any architects. They reminded him of strategists, or conspiracies. It made him feel like he was trapped in a labyrinthian design he didn't even remember entering.
While they spoke the rest of the Rangers sat awkwardly on their piles of rugs, aside from Iszir and Dram who seemed perfectly comfortable.
"You see Little Kar?" said Lagerta, "Your story begins to spread already, your names grow."
Alessandros didn't know what to say, so he short of shrugged awkwardly while dipping his head in embarrassment. He didn't want to be a story. He just wanted to be able to walk freely, with nice peope who didn't beat him. Lagerta ruffled his head fur and smiled at him. Alessandros coudn't help but respond in kind, the crooked grin splitting his face in two. Lagerta nodded,
"We shall sing your story, the Merciful Defender of Men! tonight as we eat. It will be glorious."
Dram whistled from his other side, "We'll add a few parts about you rescuing some sexy sows or whatever it is you like. The Princess of Cows, yeah? You rescue her, get together make a few calfs, y'know?"
"I shall prepare tea to soothe our sand-parched throats," said Dagot-Ei, glancing at Lagerta, "especially for you who shall be speaking these songs to us."
"Ugh, Daggertail please please," Dram interjected, then continued despite the argonian obviously ignoring him, "just don't. If ya want us gone just ask don't try and poison us wit that gunk..."
Lagerta stiffened in her fellow ranger's stead, and said, "I enjoy the tea. It will be a good addition, as we have no mead and these cat's drinks are nothing but sickening sweetness." Dagot-Ei bowed his head in acceptance of the compliment.
"Aurelius may not enjoy that discussion," Iszir said, watching the moth priest and the captain speaking, "He is quite disturbed by these stories that preceed us."
"They are stories, stories spread with the deeds of heroes," said Lagerta, "It is the way of the world. He must accept that."
Iszir nodded, then quoted, " 'Shouting to halt the sand's shifting only leaves you hoarse'. "
Dram perked up, "Whazzat? Shouting can leave you with a horse? Hot damn go ahead Lagerta and Shout on, I wouldn't mind a horse when we leave this hold back into that blistering desert.
"Hoarse..." Lagerta said with a tone of annoyance, "hoarseness of the throat, not an animal you idiot."
"Ah but there is tea for that," Dagot-Ei interjected, "you will want yes?"
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