The Riften Two-Step

[Meertaasi]

The Bee and Barb was like any other inn. Of course the city in which it could be found was much unlike other cities across the great continent of Skyrim. Nearly lawless, Riften was a hive of wretched beings that made their way in life doing wretched things. Even if the Thieves Guild was in shambles, it was still a place to keep one hand on your sword and the other on your coin purse.

It was also a city that found quite a lot of business for those such as the Argonian who now sat in the back of the dining area of the Bee and Barb. His hood obscured much of his scaled features, but his eyes - though shaded by the tailored cloth - could see all who came and went with a healthy amount of clarity.

Meertaasi was patient. He had been summoned, but would not make his presence known to the one who'd called him until well after sundown. It was simply not the way, and the silent Argonian nursing a tankard of Black-Briar mead was loathe to deviate from tradition and proper etiquette. Yes, even his business had etiquette.

And so he waited. The sun was at its' zenith, and would soon be beginning its' journey downward through the cloudy skies.

[Clark]

Bring a novice wizard at the College of Winterhold was exciting! Classes were hands on, the teachers were (usually) patient, and you could learn almost anything you liked. Running errands for the faculty was also exciting, if you approached it with the right frame of mind. It was a perspective unique to Clark, it seemed. He liked seeing anywhere new, because it usually meant testing what he learned in class.

So, when it was time for an errand to be done, the teen jumped at the chance.

"Riften is dangerous," Tolfdir told him. Full of thieves, grifters, and the like. Speak only when you have to, and preferably only with Talan-de. He's an Argonian who works at the Bee and Barb."

"If the guards at the gate ask you for a toll, just show them some fire," Faralda advised. "It's a shakedown, no matter what they say."

"We all know you like to see the good in everyone and everything, but there's no good in Riften. Just get in and get out again."

Clark now stood in the Bee and Barb, looking for Talan-de.

[Meertaasi]

Another level was taken from his mead and Meertaasi leaned back in his seat only enough to allow the barmaid to set a plate before him. He nodded in silent thanks, giving the girl a lingering look before reaching a hand out to poke at the small fare before him; roasted rabbit haunch and a small pheasant breast. Whether he actually ate or not, it made little sense. The patrons of the Bee and Barb were of far more note, and the Argonian sent his attentions back to those who milled about. Some were at the bar, others sitting at table - all were drinking heartily. In a city such as Riften, it made sense to drown your troubles in mead, ale, and wines.

One in particular caught his eye. One who looked wide-eyed and fresh to the world, standing and looking about. This one he watched with interest.

[Clark]

Clark looked around. There were two Argonians: one behind the counter, the other in the corner. Clark didn't think Talan-de would be sitting in the corner with a hood over his face if he worked at the Bee and Barb. The other was female.

"Excuse me," Clark asked the female behind the counter, "Where is Talan-de? I'm with the College of Winterhold, you see, and he said he had an item that needed enchanting."

The Argonian scratched her chin slowly, giving her the look of someone thinking deeply on philosophy. "He said he was going to buy some produce. Try the stalls in the middle of town."

Clark thanked her, and left. As he passed through the door, he took another look at the Argonian in the hood. If that one was as fearsome as he looked, Riften must really be as dangerous as Tolfdir and the others said.

[Meertaasi]

Meertaasi watched as the Breton left, and with a lingering look down to his food, the Argonian at least pulled off a thin chunk of the rabbit haunch before popping it in his mouth. It was tender, and the taste of smoke and spices permeated the meat, giving it a unique and very pleasant taste. There was a certain flavor that seemed to come from food in Riften, and this was no exception. The last of his mead washed down the rabbit, and setting the metal tankard on the table, he rose to stand. The barmaid who'd brought him his meal gave him a sour look, as he'd not eaten but the one bite, but 'Taasi gave only a small, dismissing wave with one hand while the other dropped a few extra septims onto the rough tabletop. It would be sufficient.

Moving casually, the Argonian made his way to the front doors, and without ceremony let himself outside as another group of intended merrymakers passed by on their way inside. It was easy to tell that they had intentions of emptying the mead barrels - or at least would try to make a good try of it.

The doors closed behind him, and with searching eyes, he picked out the Breton easily. Even the most novice among the Thieve's Guild would be able to spot the dark-haired man, as he seemed to stick out among the natives of Riften.

Meertaasi made note; knowing that while his contact had spoken of meeting at sundown, there had been a description of the intended target as well. And his suspicions had been piqued, as the one now described in the message he'd been given was now currently making his way towards the market center.

[Clark]

Clark could hear a woman calling out from the produce stall and started walking in that direction. He kept one hand on his satchel as he pushed through the crowd. The other he kept loose, relaxed, and open. He found when his hands were loose, it helped him cast spells. He didn't think he'd need to cast anything at the moment, but after seeing Faralda's advice bear fruit with the guards, he wasn't taking any chances. He emerged from the small crowd to discover no one in front of the produce stall.

The novice felt only the littlest frustration as he approached the vendor. "I'm sorry, have you seen Talan-de?" he asked.

The woman arched an eyebrow. "Why do you want to know? He's not in trouble, is he?"

"No no!" Clark exclaimed, holding up his hands. "I'm just here to help him with a project!"

The vendor put her elbows on the stall's wooden countertop and leaned forward, starting at him with narrowed, suspicious eyes. Clark smiled back, earnestly if not awkwardly. At last, the vendor jerked her thumb towards a gate in the distance. "Went to the fishery after visiting me."

Clark nodded his head in a kind of half-bow. "Thank you!" he said with excitement and relief.

[Meertaasi]

Like a meandering shadow, Meertaasi followed. He kept a measure of distance between, but his attentions were most assuredly fixed on the dark-haired one. The cloak he wore hid the twin swords at his side, crafted from the finest Elven moonstone and sharp enough to slice a Khajiit's eyelash into two halves. Sidestepping slightly, the Argonian moved through the crowds in the market. It was a dance that he'd come to well know, and one that he performed with precision and perfection.

From the direction the Breton was going, he was on his way to the fishery. All the better.

Moving to the side, 'Taasi gave the Breton one last look before ducking into an alley, and a quick leap brought him up to stand on a shipping crate before another jump sent him higher until he was pulling himself up onto the rooftops. From this vantage, he would better be able to follow and watch. Up one slope and down the other, the Argonian let his eyes fall once more to the Breton, still making his way toward the fishery.

[Clark]

Through the small gate, down a set of wooden stairs, and onto a set of catwalks that surrounded three of the major stone structures that made up the docks. The Black-Briar Meadery stood immediately to his right, The Fishery in the middle, and far off on the left side of the place, the Warehouse. The novice mage walked briskly towards the middle stone building, passing by several more Argonians along the way.

"Beg pardon, I'm looking for Talan-de," He said to one. One begged him for a healing potion. Luckily he had one on him. He pressed it into the woman's hand and moved on.

"Where is this fellow?" He muttered to himself. Seeing yet one more Argonian walk into the fishery itself, he decided to follow.

[Meertaasi]

The rooftops afforded so much, and Meertaasi was often enough high upon them, watching and waiting. But with his target sighted and his job begun, there was intent to his gait, crouched yet moving fluidly. The Argonian scented the air around him, but found nothing of interest, and with a last nimble leap he was atop the roof of the fishery. His footfalls were light, giving nothing away to those within, and moving quickly, he slipped noiselessly to the edge of the course-shingled roof, dropping effortlessly to the ground and landing in a crouch. His body was coiled, ready to strike, yet still he hesitated. A glance was sent back towards the center of town for but only a moment before he rose to stand.

Entering the fishery itself was a silent affair, and one that took little effort to conceal. Once inside, 'Taasi stayed close to the outer walls, his body blending with the shadows. Spying the Breton once more, the Argonian let a hand drop to the hilt of one of his swords, resting loosely upon the pommel.

[Clark]

"Talan-de!" Clark called out. "I'm the apprentice from the College of Winterhold! You needed something enchanted?"

The Argonian strode quickly across the fishery floor. "Not so loud! This is a secret!" Clawed fingers reached in a pocket inside his vest and tugged out a delicate sivler chain with a locket. "I made this as a gift for the woman I love," he said. "I would like this enchanted with the most powerful Fortify Barter enchantment your College can provide. Here is the coin as well."

Clark nodded. "Sounds great!" he whispered. "It'll get to Winterhold safely, and back in your hands as fast as we can!"

The novice mage looked around. "I'll be sure to keep this close to me," he added. "I understand your city is not known for uh, being safe. No offense."

Talan-de only shrugged.

[Meertaasi]

Keeping to the shadows, 'Taasi watched with keen eyes and nose, scenting the air around him and never letting the Breton out of his sight. Another Argonian traded words with the dark-haired one, then left quietly, leaving the Breton standing alone.

With none around, his time was now, and Meertaasi acted swiftly. With one hand on the hilt of his blade, the other reached out from the darkness to grab the Breton by the collar of his robes, dragging him roughly backwards and into the shadows where none would see his fate.

[Clark]

"Waaah!"

Was he being robbed? Mages may not be known for being rich, but they were known for carrying items of a more "exotic" nature. Had this person seen him deal with Talan-de and made an opportunistic grab?

Clark was confident there would be a dagger coming for him. Unable to see his assailant, Clark could only think to do three things: cast Oakflesh to armor his body, Candlelight in a desperate bid to blind the thief, then hope Stendarr was looking out for him.

[Meertaasi]

Meertaasi could feel the magicka and its' casting. He could feel the hardening of his target's flesh, and the sudden shock that this man knew how to use spells caused the Argonian to pause, hesitant as he shut his eyes tightly against the sudden and painfully bright illumination spell.

A hiss, and 'Taasi peeled his lips away in a toothy grimace.

Still he stayed his hand; the mark he'd been told to dispatch had been said to possess no magicka powers, and yet this one did.

Still though, he held tightly to the other man, and after a short time let out a few low words.

"You are not supposed to have magicka powers... "

[Clark]

"Well, uh...too bad."

Clark felt relief that there wasn't a dagger between his ribs, but couldn't help but wonder why his assailant cared that he was a wizard. Faralda always said knowledge was power. Every minuscule piece of information could be helpful. No knowledge is bad.

"Let me go, and I won't even watch you leave. Or are you one of those 'You have heard my voice, now you must die,' types?"

Clark wasn't sure what would happen. He didn't like letting this assassin go, but the mage wasn't sure he would be able to stop the cutthroat himself. If, of course, Clark's attacker thought he would go to the guards, he might kill Clark anyway. It put him in a real bind.

"

[Meertaasi]

With his eyes still screwed shut, Meertaasi considered the man's words.

"I'll not kill you for hearing my voice," he finally growled out, cracking one eye open.

Regardless, his grip remained as steel, and the Argonian exhaled a huffed breath through his nostrils.

"I was told you'd have no abilities."

The dawning of a rather unfortunate realization began to form in the very back of his mind, but for now he pushed it away. The man looked like the one he'd been tasked to eliminate, and it couldn't be possible that he'd made any sort of mistake...

... could it?

[Clark]

"And I was told Riften was a dangerous place. Looks like one of us was right." Reluctant as he was to divulge information about himself, Clark figured maybe if the person grabbing the back of his robes were to know who he had caught, he might like Clark go. "I'm Clark. I'm just on an errand for the College of Winterhold. Not even completed my first year at the College. I'm a nobody. I don't even have ten septims to my name right now."

Impatient to have this unsavory encounter behind him, Clark had to control his urge to struggle. No good getting stabbed on accident!

"I don't need to know who you're after, but now that you know who you've caught, can you let me go?"

[Meertaasi]

There was a small amount of silence as he thought on this, and his lips noiselessly formed the name given to him. He scowled, and released the hilt of his blade while in the same motion shoving the Breton forward.

"Bah," was the only sound of displeasure he gave, stalking from the shadows and drawing himself up to his full height. He looked down to Clark with a withering glare.

"I would suggest that you use your magicka to make yourself not look like a man marked for death."

[Clark]

"I just knew I should have picked the other face this morning!"

Clark did have to wonder, though. This assassin either thought some men were merely indistinguishable from others, or someone out there in Skyrim really did look like him. He had heard from Hulda in Whiterun about a person in Riften that could change a person's face. In any case, Clark found himself somewhat concerned that he could be mistaken for someone who had a contract killing taken out on him.

"Who are you supposed to be killing, anyway?" He finally asked. Fear finally had given way to curiosity, though Clark did not expect he would be given an answer.

[Meertaasi]

"Who I am supposed to end is not your concern."

Growled out, the words sounded as though they'd been dragged across sandpaper. Even more so, if 'Taasi had decided to kill the man, the admission of only having ten Septims to his name was enough to stay his hand. Ten Septim was hardly enough to buy two tankards of ale.

The Argonian gave a slight shove, sending 'Clark' away.

"Take you Magicka somewhere else, mage."

And as an afterthought...

"... and look into getting another face."

[Clark]

"I'll get right on that. Thanks."

Clark kept his head down, walked briskly out the door, back up to the square, and was almost out the Riften gates when he slammed into someone. He scrambled to hold onto his pouch, feeling through the leather for the pendant that had just been entrusted to his care. His fingers found the circular object. Clark traced its outline while he felt his head for any bumps that were sure to form.

"Ow! Sorry, I know I should really watch where I'm going, I just..." his words trailed off when he saw who was sprawled on the city street in front of him. The stranger's face looked just like his!

"For the love of Dibella!" Clark cried out in shock. He scrambled away and eventually to his feet. "Why do you look just like me?!"

[Meertaasi]

Taasi had followed regardless.

He would've been remiss in his duties if he'd not. He watched the young mage hurry through the streets of Riften, dodging most people. Of course, the one he didn't dodge...

From his perch on the rooftops, Taasi made a face, his lips peeling back over sharp teeth in a strange sort of frustrated grimace that was also an expression of impatience. Why was it that these things happened as they did?

The man who'd been knocked from his feet was like a perfect match to the Mage. A perfect copy.

[]iHim. That's the one...[/i]

Taasi dropped from his perch, one of his swords drawn as he fell atop the man. The blade buried itself into the chest of his true target, and the Argonian let out a long breath. He pulled his blade free as his hand passed through the welling up of blood, and another moment later he pressed a red palm-print upon the face of the dead man.

"Our deed is done," came the whisper.



Of course, the act of removing himself from the scene of the crime was another thing altogether, and Taasi reared up as the Riften gate guards advanced, their own weapons drawn.

A snarl, and he reached out, grabbing a hold of Clark's upper arm before swiftly darting forward and through the closing gates.

"Come on, Mage."

[Clark]

Clark would get no answers to a question that filled his mind until there was nothing else to think about. Stunned into silent stillness, it took the sharp pain of Meertaasi's grasp to bring him round.

"Ow!"

The novice mage was beginning to show anger and irritation. Yanked through the gates and past the guards, who were calling for them to halt, Clark stumbled to keep his feet. He needed to think. Usually when Clark was researching in the field, he was able to take his time and size up hostiles--whether they were skeevers, spiders, or draugr. This was different. He wanted to get away. Get back to the College. Find the quietest corner in the Arcaneum and read until Urag kicked him out. But no doubt Brelyna, Osmund, and J'zargo would pepper him with questions until he divulged the story. He needed to survive, if he wanted to see any of them ever again.

Suddenly, without thinking, Clark managed to say, "There's an entire cluster of Frostbite Spiders to our right! The Rift has more spiders in their forests than any other Hold in Skyrim!"

[Meertaasi]

With an angry snort, Taasi growled out a curse as he looked around to whatever the Mage was shrieking at.

"Tyber's Bones," he spat, staring at the group of frostbite spiders as they skittered their way closer. It was creepy, the way they moved.

With the Riften guards getting their bearings enough to begin giving chase, it wouldn't be long until they were harried on two sides.

"Keep pace less'n you wants to be run through with a sword before bein' gored by a spider."

[Clark]

"That's what I'm trying to tell you!" Clark snapped. "The guards won't go near the spiders! But the spiders won't bother us!"

Clark did his best to drag Meertaasi towards the spiders' lair. "I've killed dozens of Frostbite Spiders since I've joined the college! We can take them!"

The novice mage didn't really know where the sudden fire was coming from. Maybe it was true that sons and daughters of Skyrim were forged by breathing the winter air and tempering themselves in its harsh cold. At any rate, the young magician was as likely to set the assassin on fire as the spiders, but the spiders would be easier opponents, and the survivors wouldn't follow him to the ends of the earth to get revenge.

[Meertaasi]

The mage's tugging only marginally succeeded, as Taasi gave a toothy sneer at the man.

"I don't like spiders," he growled.

Of course, having a mage handy was also something to consider, and the Argonian reluctantly let Clark pull him along.

Still though, he couldn't help the complaint as he gripped his blades just a little bit more tightly in anticipation of a battle.

"They're creepy."

[Clark]

"Well, yeah. They're nearly the size of a horse. We used to get surprised by them when exploring the tombs, but there's a thing about them: They will funnel into whatever space is available. We plugged an entire cavern with a bigger one once, then just set them all on fire. They couldn't reach us, but they couldn't really get around the corpses either. Failing that, they'll go after the first thing they see. I can conjure all the familiars I want: as long as the familiar appears before they notice me, they'll go after it every time."

The forest started to look frosted. Clark could feel his footsteps get tacky as he walked across the disparate strands. "Here, let me go."

Clark shook out his hands, summoning the spells he would need: Flames and Conjure Familiar.

Somewhere behind the unlikely pair, Clark could hear the guards cursing and returning to their posts. It was just him, Meertaasi, and the spiders. "They are likely going to be in shadows, or in the trees. Now's a good time to lure them out before they get the drop on us."

The novice mage held out his hand. He focused his will onto the spell and opened a tear in the planes. A few feet ahead the tear opened. With a swirling energy and unearthly noise, the familiar made itself manifest as the tear sealed itself.

The leaves on the small trees and bushes rustled. Clark brought about a new spell, and kept the Flames at ready. "Ok, we'll see where they come from. They don't usually keep others in reserve, so we should see the entire cluster pretty soon."