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1.33 - The Fighters Guild Part 3

  For the night I stayed by her side, resting like I had done on a handful of occasions in the various taphouses in Khuul by the expediency of resting my head on the table or by leaning back against the wall with my head jammed into the corner. Despite the pains in my body I could almost feel my flesh knitting, the bruising absorbed and bones strengthening as I sat there in the silence of the night. There was now no doubt in my mind that my curse afforded me with some degree of quickened healing and I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to feel about it. Several times during the night I woke from the restless sleep as the fighters moved about, floorboards creaking and soft voices murmuring as they staggered in at all hours from their endeavours abroad in the city.

  As morning broke over the city I was still sitting in the chair, facing the door and dozing on and off. The fighters were wholly dissimilar than the Blades or Legionaries. There was no regimented activity or schedule that was painstakingly kept to the minute. They all went to bed when they chose, rose when they chose and went about doing whatever they felt like during the day. From the sounds of grunts and clashing metal from the training yard in the back of the chapter house, some of the veterans at least knew the benefit of training and rising with the sun. Elsewhere in the chapterhouse snoring echoed, as did the occasional retching of those who had drunk too much during the night.

  Viconia slept like the dead, barely even murmuring or rolling in her sleep as the combination of her injuries and the applied salves ensured that she would spend the next few days resting. Ohtesse and one of the younger acolytes arrived shortly after the tolling of the breakfast bells to change dressings and check on us both. From their reactions they were apparently quite pleased at our progress so far.

  “I do have my concerns for your friend.” Ohtesse said, carefully wrapping the last length of cloth around my chest and securing it tightly.

  Lowering my arm, I turned and looked back at her, feeling the tightness of my shoulder slowly dissipating. “I thought you had managed to heal her injuries quite well…”

  “Her physical ailments are healing well, and in the next three days she’ll be fit to fight or even run a marathon. But they aren’t the injuries that I’m concerned with.”

  She saw my hardening gaze and breathed out deeply, motioning her unease with her hands. “She has suffered an awful amount of damage, and as far as I can discern her recent injuries are but some of the lesser wounds she has received.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I mean that if you took all of the members of the Cheydinal guild that they might come close to the total amount of injuries she has suffered.” Quickly with her long fingers Ohtesse ticked them off. “Nearly every bone has significant stress fractures, her hands have been broken and set on several occasions, nose set uncountable times, teeth broken and repaired magically. The amount of scar tissue that covers her legs, arms and the entirety of her torso is staggering. There isn’t an inch of flesh on the poor woman that hasn’t been injured to some degree.”

  “Self-inflicted?” I asked, voice dropping to a whisper.

  “By Mara’s name no. but I know torture when I see it. She has been systematically abused with everything you can imagine. Fists, blades, whips, and everything in between. I shudder to think of what she has gone through, but it’s especially frightening to consider what damage has been done to her psyche.”

  “I have some idea already in that regards.”

  Ohtesse reached forward and patted me on my unwounded shoulder. “Whatever she has gone through has left a damaged being behind. I know just from a glance that she looks and probably is as tough as an old boot, but needs more than just my healing hands and salves to treat those wounds. She needs someone to look out for her.”

  “If the gods would stop throwing crap our way it’d be a lot easier.”

  Her smile was faint but she nodded, standing up and nodding in the direction of the door. Standing and waiting for her to finish was the guild’s porter; Rodeber.

  “Package just arrived.” He rasped, the terrible injury that had left him bereft of a nose would ensure that his voice would be nasally and wet for the rest of his life. “The messenger almost killed his horse on the front steps.”

  Thanking Ohtesse and Rodeber I took the package from his hands, feeling it’s weight and wondering why Jauffre had sent a reply in such a way. The box itself was only large enough to contain a book but was secured, wrapped in cloth and weighed a lot for its size. Carefully unwrapping and breaking the wax seal on the letter stuck to the top I quickly read its contents, feeling my gut tighten and eyes widen before making my way out of the room in search for Burz.

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  The powerful orc leader of the local Guild spent his time either training, fighting or eating. Like most of his kind he enjoyed a good fight and didn’t so much care whether it was a training session against his comrades, a raid against goblins or bandits or even a tavern brawl as long as it got the blood fired up. In this case though I found him within the dining room, making a decisive campaign against several platters of food that would’ve fed a squad of legionaries for a day.

  “Mornin’.” He rumbled through a mouthful of roast boar, washing it down with a mouthful of some potent alcohol and motioning for me to sit.

  “Morning.” I placed the box down in front of me and ripped a leg of chicken off one of his plates, my hunger finally starting to make itself felt above how much blood I had drunk. “Do you have any commanders or seconds in command that you think should know about what’s going on?”

  Pausing in mid bite he stared at me with a look of astonishment. “Story time is it?”

  At seeing my nod he turned and whistled loudly, a somewhat impressive feat for someone who had a pair of tusks permanently jutting through his lips.

  Waiting for a few minutes a pair of hulking fighters appeared from the rest of the chapterhouse. The first, the hulking Nord that I had seen when they had found us stepped in through a doorway that seemed too small to contain his bulk. Another entered just shortly after he did, a tall whip-thin altmer with a face full of scars and a hands missing a few fingers from one too many close calls.

  “This is Keld and Ohtimbar. They are both my seconds in command.” Burz rolled his powerful neck muscles and looked at me with renewed interest, glancing between my face and the box sitting in front of me. “I’m guessing you’ve been told how much you can tell us.”

  “The Blades apparently trust you all enough for me to tell you the whole story.” My reply got their attention immediately and for the next half an hour the three of them stared at me with stupefied expressions on my face as I told them everything that had happened since the Emperor’s death. For the trio of hard-bitten warriors to stand there in utter shock after I had finished explaining the destruction of the Mythic Dawn’s Shrine at Lake Arrius was a little terrifying to say the least.

  “Malacath’s hairy nutsack.” Burz gro-Khash spluttered after I had finished, looking down at the flagon grasped in his massive fist and only just realising that he had held it for the entire time I spoke. “Well, that sure as shit explains what brought you here but why do you need us?”

  “There are no Blades left nearby who can come and secure the Shrine for at least a week, maybe more and who knows what will happen before then. We need a group of experienced fighters to hold it in the meantime.”

  “We don’t work for free.” Keld growled, scowling and shaking his head so that his braided beard quivered.

  “That’s why they have allowed me to provide suitable compensation for your assistance.” I pushed the box over to them and watched as their jaws hit the floor at the sight of several hundred gold septims. It was more than an entire month’s of goblin hunting sitting before them.

  “We’ll, you lot definitely don’t like screwing around.” Ohtimbar replied this time, a tiny stream of gold falling from his fist back into the box. “We can’t give up our current contracts though.”

  “I know that, and you know that.” Leaning back in his chair and necking another frothy mouthful of alcohol Burz scratched his jaw absently. “Some of them though can be postponed for a short while at least. There’ll be enough warm bodies spare to go get this place locked down.”

  “There will be higher injuries among the hunters.”

  “Doesn’t matter. We have enough gold here to even get Rodeber laid. The boys will just have to suck it up.” He looked over to me and nodded. “Looks like we’re at your service. I’m guessing that you’ll want us there immediately?”

  “The sooner the better, yes.”

  “Well then, as you were able to make it down here on your own two legs I suppose that you’d be able to show us where this place is at least.”

  “That is part of the plan.” I replied, feeling somewhat concerned that I would have to leave Viconia behind for even a few hours.

  We quickly prepared for the short journey, Burz and his two lieutenants going around and mustering whatever members they came across until a full twelve of them were armouring and readying themselves for anything. My own equipment and weapons were brought, the few that weren’t irreparably ruined by the fighting in the caverns in any case. I couldn’t help but feel somewhat uneasy at the fact that my chainmail now sported several obvious holes where the bolts had broken through the interwoven links. The breastplate was ruined and would need to be reforged before it could be of any use, but Sunchild was as always perfect and unblemished despite the dozens I had killed on its edge.

  Viconia was awake when I made my way back to her room, taking the attentions of Ohtesse and her assistant with ill grace and slapping at their hands. She saw how I wore my leather and chainmail and Sunchild’s presence at my hip, her eyes darkening for a moment and fear briefly making itself felt.

  “Jauffre has asked that the Fighters Guild guards the shrine until more Blades can come and secure it.” I said simply, seeing her face darkening not in anger at me but at the weakness of her body and inability to follow. “I’m leading them there, but I will come straight back.”

  Her scowl was vicious but it wasn’t directed at me. “Make sure you retrieve my sword.” She said simply as I left the room to join the rest of the fighters.

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