UESP Forums

Salma approached Lord Wugal in Blackrose, the capitol of Black Marsh. Lord Wugal was the King of Black Marsh, and Salma was his personal advisor.

“Sengal is gaining popularity with the masses, my Lord.” Salma bowed before Lord Wugal.
“This is a problem?” Wugal asked.
“Yes. Worst case scenario, he challenges your rule by the year’s end. We need him eliminated, removed from the picture.”
“Hmm… yes. Do you suggest sending Hakvir?” Wugal asked, Hakvir being Wugal’s cousin, and a shadowscale.
“Hakvir lacks… potential.” Salma answered.
“Well then? Who do you suggest we send?” Wugal pressed.
“Skarr would be perfect. He is discreet and efficient.”
“Skarr? He is… unorthodox. Remember the assignment that Sire Gvier sent him on?” Wugal questioned.
“What? Twenty-seven civilian casualties, but his target ended up dead. May I remind you, his target was the infamous Hist Thief Lugvev.” Salma retorted.
“He is expensive. Perhaps the most expensive mercenary in Argonia.” Wugal brought up.
“We can afford it. Our treasury will not be impacted.” Salma answered quickly.
“Fine. Give Skarr the message. I want Sengal dead by sunrise.” Wugal sighed.

****

Skarr signaled the tavern wench. “Another beer, please.” He called. The girl nodded and hurried off to fetch Skarr another beer.

Skarr had a certain reputation amongst the people of Black Marsh. He would do almost any mission; almost any assassination, as long as it paid well enough. He was widely regarded as a man without morals, without mercy, without a heart. This was not entirely correct, however.

Skarr completed most of his contacts, but he did draw the line more than the public knew. Skarr had a complicated set of morals, and if he was tasked to do something he considered unjust, he refused to do it. If his contractor pressed the matter, he killed the contractor.

Now, the thought that comes to mind is obvious: Salma claimed that he killed over two dozen civilians during a contract. The truth was that his target, Lugvev, planted explosive powder all over an Argonian chapel and set it off with a fireball, because he knew that Skarr would stop and help the inhabitants, but Lugvev was caught in the fires and perished. It was assumed that Skarr blew up the chapel to kill Lugvev. Skarr was generally an anti-social man and did not try to quell the spreading rumor.

Skarr had light brown scales and steel plate armor, and he always carried a pristine silver sword. While his birthname was Skarr, he had a large scar running from the top-right of his head to the bottom-left.

The mercenary was sipping his beer when an Argonian approached him bearing the Black Marsh royal crest.

“Sire Skarr of Argonia, I hereby present you with this package sent to you by His Highness Lord Wugal personally.” The agent presented Skarr with a blue container, bowed, and left.

Skarr opened the package and found a note and a small, hardened piece of Hist Sap. Skarr scanned over the fancily written note.

Agent Skarr,

I am Lord Wugal, and I ask you to perform a favor for the throne.
Your Target’s name is Sengal, a Politician operating here in Blackrose. He threatens my just rule and for that, he has to be removed, permanently.

Enclosed in this package is 5,000 gold coins. I will quadruple that once I hear news of Sengal’s death. Also enclosed in this package is a Hist Communicator – it will allow me to update you on your mission should I need to. It will become useless after the mission, so I suggest you dispose of it afterwards.

I handpicked you, Agent Skarr. Don’t let me down.

Skarr sighed. He would be working tonight, it seemed. Luckily for Lord Wugal, Skarr was a very patriotic man and felt that this Sengal was not right in threatening the throne. He stood up, took some of Wugal’s stipend to pay his Tavern tab completely, and left the small, rustic Inn to search for this Sengal.

It did not take long to hear word of the man. He was very popular with the people. Skarr went up to the nearest citizen, and asked for information of Sengal.

“Sengal? Yes, yes, show your support by going to his rally, it starts in an hour! Sengal promises to end poverty in Blackrose Old Quarters. I hope to see another Sengal supporter at the rally!” The Argonian woman said cheerfully, and left to do her business.

Skarr nodded slowly to himself. “So,” He thought, “This Sengal man will appear publically in an hour. Such a foolish mistake for someone who is hated by the King.” He went off into the street and disappeared.

The Rally was in one of Blackrose’s open grass areas, and hundreds of Argonians were gathering in the park to see Sengal. Skarr loitered behind the mass of beast folk and waited for Sengal to arrive and address the crowd. Just ten minutes later, Sengal appeared with a council of advisors at the very front of the crowd.

“Agent Skarr.” The Hist Communicator that Skarr was given emitted a female Argonian’s voice. The Assassin picked up the Hist and held it to his mouth. “I assumed I’d be talking to Lord Wugal personally.” He said bluntly.

“This is Salma, Wugal’s advisor. Listen, I have confirmation that Sengal is at a Support Rally. I assume you’re there as well?”
“Affirmative.”
“I knew you would not disappoint, Sire Skarr. Listen, we have decided that killing Sengal is not enough. His supporters and council of advisors will still be very alive. This will not be difficult, because the Hist Communicator serves two purposes. Apply Argonian blood to the device and it will explode shortly after. If you are smart, the device will take out Sengal, his council, and at least twenty of his supporters. It will be glorious!” Salma said, the bloodthirstiness obvious in her voice.

“Hello? Agent, do you hear me?” Salma asked after a moment of silence.
“I read you. Do not communicate with me again.” Skarr said simply, and put the device back in his pocket. His mind was racing – debating killing over thirty people will make any man sweat. True – Sengal would perish, but many innocents would die as well. Skarr wasn’t sure that he could do that.

“Advisor?” Skarr asked. “I am killing only Sengal.” He said firmly.
“Unacceptable! His followers must die – or else he will only be a martyr! The populace must be scared straight. You will not get paid if only Sengal dies.” Salma finished.
“I am okay with that. I have your stipend.” Skarr answered calmly.
“I will make sure you are arrested for murder, Skarr, because the killing of Sengal alone is not your contract anymore, therefore you would not be under protection of Wugal.”

Skarr closed his eyes and whispered something to himself. He made a decision.

“Try it, Salma, and I will come for you. I am leaving.”
“You will regret this, Assassin! I will have your blood! I will –“ Salma was cut off as Skarr tossed the Hist Communicator off into a nearby bush.

Skarr turned from the rally and left, smiling smugly. He had no regrets denying Salma’s orders, and he was not worried for his own safety, because he knew how to be evasive. He’d drop off the radar, never to be seen again.

****

Sengal was sipping more beer at a Tavern on the edges of Black Marsh, wanted posters of him already spreading around the province. Three days had passed since he refused to assassinate Sengal.

It was silent, the people drinking in corners, not here for conversation. Skarr almost finished his beer when an Imperial man dressed in Necromancers robes approached him.

“I understand that you recently became enemies with Lord Wugal. Well, if your nation truly wants you dead, then I’m sure you’d want revenge… am I right?” He asked. Skarr remained silent.

“Well, I have a proposition for you. Your potential new contractor is a very powerful woman, with some very powerful enemies.” He smiled.

“I might be interested.” Skarr said, for a lack of anything better to do.

“Very good. Lady Chaos looks forward to work with you.”

seagulls by Kaila Lingwood, on Flickr

seagulls by Kaila Lingwood, on Flickr

summer 028 by Kaila Lingwood, on Flickr

A full, bright moon perched itself in the muted blue sky of the night.
I stared as cloud wisps slowly slid pass the moon. The night was cool
and quiet, no creatures seemed to live but two.

I peered down at my steed’s white neck; it seemed to be reflecting
the moonlight with an unnatural brightness. My fingertips softly grazed
his muscular neck, admiring the beauty of his elegant nature. My palm
pressed on his warm neck, his body still. He was quiet, as if he
understood this time was not for rude gestures and ugly bickering.

He watched me, observing carefully. I could feel him; his mind was
in complete synchronization with mine. Never in my life could I imagine
this bond between two souls so strong.

My hand gripped a knotted clump of his mane, air filled my lungs, and
my eyes looked ahead. I spoke no word, no command, yet his feet moved.
He paced then began to move quicker. His hooves began to hit the earth
harder. His sturdy shoulders jerked hard under my legs. The rhythm was
easy to follow; it was now natural to me. The dark field stretched far into
the black horizon and straight was our direction.

I closed my eyes and the pounding rung true in my head.

It rang for eons.

With a subconscious spark of knowledge, my body ordered cease of motion.
The beat slowed and went silent. My eyes opened.

He now stood panting, as did I. His body now damp with hot sweat and
veins racing under his flea-bitten coat. Both of us inhaled and gave a final huff.
In joy, I fell back to rest my head on his hindquarters, my arms dangling on
either side. He bent his head around to nuzzle my toes. I looked to him, smiled, and said…

“Thank you.”