Oblivion: No Woman Left Behind

Timeline: Episode 6 Reinterpretation

Fang picked his way back down Kvatch’s plateau, trying to hurry. He had stumbled into Kvatch half-conscious, and only the identifying mark he carried of the Fighter’s Guild showed his relatively “safe” status. He’d rested in the Kvatch Guild for several hours before waking, getting supplies and working on finding people to help.

That is to say, no one.

As the head of the Kvatch Fighter’s Guild put it, “trying to take on the roving bands of Colovia is a lost cause. I hate to say it, but leave it to the Legion, at least unless we’re getting paid.” He had less luck with people outside of the Fighter’s Guild.

“Bunch of cowards,” he grumbled, blinking in the fading light. “City should just be wiped off the map.”

Once he reached the bottom he started on the road proper, though staying to the side and low. He had gotten some armor to help him, as well as a wickedly sharp Elven dagger, but he’d prefer to strike first if he could help it.

He passed around a corner to see the light of an approaching torch, and he stayed back, peering through the darkness. The torch’s light only reached so far, and being a Khajiit, the darkness was no true hindrance to him.

He was somewhat shocked to see what was coming towards him.

“By the Gods, you’re alive?!”

Approaching on horseback was none other than the Legion soldier from earlier. She looked up startled, and made to draw her sword. He spoke quickly, saying “it’s me, the one you met earlier on the road!”

A pause. “The Khajiit?”

“Yes,” he said, moving closer. He could see she had seen better days. Her armor was dented and scarred, and he saw specks of blood here and there. As her hand moved away from her scabbard, it rested on her stomach. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Better off than the bandits from earlier,” she said bitterly. “You’re a bit late in helping, if that was your goal.”

Fang frowned, ears tilting back. “For that I apologize. I passed out on reaching Kvatch, and even after I awoke,” he glared back at the town on the hill, “well, the fine people of Kvatch enjoy their high-life.”

She laughed slightly, though stopped, holding herself tighter. “I suppose I see that. Many of the Colovian cities are like that.”

He looked at the horse she rode upon. “Is that… ?”

“Yes… it’s your horse,” she said, some resignedly. “It wandered by where I had fallen… after killing all of the outlaws… and after treating it, I rode it here. I did notice that it was not, however, a Legion Horse.”

“Aah,” he said, feeling a slight twinge of relief. “Well, I am glad. For your helping me… saving me, really… you may certainly keep the horse.”

“Thank you,” she said. “For your assistance, I’ll not look into it any further… so long as you can escort me to Kvatch, at any rate.”

“Of course!” Fang said, taking the horse’s reins and beginning to lead it. “Anything for an officer of the legion.”

“Hrrm,” she said, somewhat disbelieving. “Do keep it that way. The Legion does not look kindly upon even well-meaning bandits or thieves... and my sword can speak of how we treat the ill-meaning ones.”

He didn’t need to study her sword to know it was probably drenched in dry blood. He could smell it. “Trust me miss,” he said, glancing back. He remembered her bold charge against many foes, and the Anvil Guards that had concocted their confusing plot to root out crime, “I’m getting a very clear picture of how the law in Cyrodiil works.”

Oblivion: Outlawed

Timeline: Middle of Episode 4.

He pulled up on the reins as he came near the gray-armored guard standing in the middle of the road. She had a silver sword drawn, and didn’t look happy under that helmet.

Fang did his best to stay calm. “How can I help you ma’am?”

“Where did you get that horse?”

“This horse?” he said, patting it on the head. “Why, I got it from Anvil.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she walked over, sword still drawn. “The stables outside Anvil breed white horses. It’s what they’re famous for. So you want to try that again?”

Fang tried to fight a wince from his face. Okay, he hadn’t known that.

“It wasn’t one of their stock,” he said, shrugging. “It was a sale.”

“It looks like a horse of the Legion.”

“Well, I can’t say where they got it from,” Fang admitted.

She growled, and tapped at his leg with the sword. “Off the horse Khajiit. We’re going to have a little chat about it. And if you just bought it, I’m sure the fine people at Horse Whisperer Stables would have given you a proof of purchase.”

Fang grumbled, but began to get off the horse. Why were all the female guards in Cyrodiil so damn troublesome?

“As I said, it wasn’t one of theirs, they were just-”

“Ssh!” she said, looking to the grass and trees to the side of the road. Fang silenced, and followed her gaze. The horse shook its head, and began to trot away from them.

“What?” Fang asked, putting a hand to his own sword. “What do you-”

Arrows flew from the bushes. Fang yelped, barely bringing his shield up in time to catch one. Two more helplessly bounced off the armor of the Legionnaire, and one last one hit the horse, which let out a dreadful, painful sound as it turned and ran down the road.

Fang was tempted to join it, before he saw the guard charge into the bush, yelling “for the Emperor!”

His jaw dropped. She didn’t even know what they were up against. Another arrow slammed into his shield, which didn’t give him much time to think about fighting or fleeing. Two dogs rushed out to attack him.

Well, I’m in this whether I like it or not, it seems.

He drew his sword and slammed it into the underside of one of the dog’s jaws. It didn’t kill it, but it knocked it back, stunned. The other dog bit at his leg, teeth sinking in. Fang yelled out and slashed at the dog’s side, then slammed the edge of his shield onto its head. That got it off.

Another arrow flew out from the bush, but Fang saw where it came from this time. He stabbed his sword into the dog, provoking a pained whine, and then ran towards the tall grass. Entering it, he quickly came face to face with a red-eyed Dunmer. Moments later, he also came face to face with her iron mace, knocking him rolling back out into the road.

“Ugh… ow,” he said, holding his chin.

“If you think that hurt,” she said, stepping out onto the road, “you really won’t like this!”

She brought her mace down, and he parried with his sword, the edge of the blade scraping across her weapon’s haft. He swept his legs under her, aiming to knock her flat, but she merely stumbled. Either way it bought him time to scramble to his feet…

Just in time to see another of them bearing down on him, a Khajiit woman swinging a battle-axe.

He brought his sword up, but the axe sent it flying from his grasp with a large tear in it. Her next blow probably would’ve caused him to lose a limb if her axe wasn’t stopped mid-swing by the grasp of the legion soldier.

“Not on my watch outlaw!” she yelled before plunging her ornate silver sword into the gut of the Khajiit woman, who screamed in pain. Fang took the reprieve to swing back towards the Dunmer, slashing at her. She dodged, and then charged for her own blow. Fang ducked, and then tried tripping her again. It worked this time, and she fell flat onto her face.

He didn’t let her get up, running over and jamming his blade into the back of her neck.

“Run!” the soldier said as two more Outlaws stepped out of the bushes. “Kvatch is just up the hill! Get out of here!”

“But-”

“You’ll only slow me down!” she said, before roaring and charging at the two outlaw. Fang took a breath. She was right. He wasn’t equipped to fight this sort of fight. He grabbed what he could off the dead outlaws in a flurry, and then began to run up the hill. Arrows whizzed by him, and one planted firmly into his back. He gasped in pain, barely suppressing a yell, but kept going on.

He’d go to Kvatch, get some help, and come back… he had no love for soldiers of the Legion, especially ones wanting to peg him for horse theft. But that didn’t mean he wanted one to die either.

Oblivion: Bad Threesome

Timeline: Near the End of Episode 3.

Fang wasn’t quite sure how he got himself into this situation. The fact that the woman standing across from him, Faustina, a dark-haired beauty of an Imperial wearing a form fitting red dress, thought she had the upper hand in this situation was ridiculous.

“You… honestly expect me to take off my clothes?” he asked incredulously.

“What’s wrong?” she insisted, moving a bit closed and putting a hand to his chest. “Don’t you want to have a little…” her hand trailed downward, “fun?”

He grabbed her wrist, snarling. “Are… is everyone in this town incompetent?”

“What?” she asked, eyes wide. “What are you talking about?”

“Everyone knows who you are and what you did. I have no idea how they could keep getting tricked other than… insanity or stupidity.”

She tried to pull away, but he pulled her back. His free hand went for his dagger. “No, none of that! You’re gonna take me to Gogan’s ring so I can get the reward?”

“Who?” she asked angrily.

“Gogan, snappy dresser of a Redguard. You took his wedding ring, and there’s a reward for it.”

“That thing was a fake, I threw it out! What is…” her eyes narrowed “Tsarrina was right, this was too easy! You’re working with the guards, aren’t you?”

“What?” Fang asked, genuinely confused. “What guards? Why wouldn’t I just bring them with me?! You are known thieves!”

Fang had been so focused on holding her and trying to drag her towards the door that he hadn’t kept an eye on her free hand, not until it shot upward with a wickedly curved dagger of her own. He released her wrist so he wouldn’t lose his.

As she backed away, holding her dagger at the ready, she yelled out “okay girls! We’ve got someone who doesn’t want to cooperate!”

Then, with a flash of green, she disappeared from view except for a slight shimmer. And with a loud bang, a door in the back slammed open, and two women strolled out of it. One was the Nord woman from the bar. The other was a Khajiit woman wielding a far more intimidating weapon than the other two.

He didn’t take the time to curse his luck before swiping at where he thought the Imperial woman had gone. She dodged, but he winced as he felt the invisible blade lash out at him, cutting at his shoulder. He shoved his shield forward, and then stabbed at random. He heard her cry out and saw drops of blood splash onto the ground.

The Nord woman, Signy, jumped into the fray, running across the room, jumping onto the bed, and then trying to jump on Fang. She clung onto him for a moment, trying to stab at him with her own dagger. He felt the dagger bite at him, but it kept glancing over as he tried to throw her.

“Signy, move, I can’t get at him!”

“I’ve almost got him!” she yelled, which was just insulting. Roaring, Fang threw himself backwards, slamming her into the wall. She let go of him as her lungs let go of air.

He barely had a moment to recover, the Khajiit woman growling and swinging her sword. He barely caught it with his shield, but then stumbled as the still invisible Faustina shoved him to the side.

As he regained his footing, he saw himself staring down two angry women, and at least one more that was invisible.

“Get him!” he heard Faustina yell, and a bolt of lightning shot from where she must have been, slamming into him. He stumbled backwards as it hit, but instead of feeling pain, he felt invigorated.

Bless the stars that covered my birth he thought as he flipped his dagger in his hand. He ran forward, shoulder-checking the Nord and shoving her into the Khajiit, before stabbing forward. Faustina cried out again, and flickered back into view, unable to hold the spell through the pain.

“Faustina!” the Khajiit cried out, moving Signy off of her and running over. Fang roared as the bladed drew across his back, tearing at the shirt and his skin. He ripped his dagger out of Faustina and stumbled forward, turning to block another block.

“Stay back, I’ve got this!” Signy yelled, rushing forward with her knife, shoving Tsarrina out of the way.

“Signy, no!” It was too late though, Signy was right on him. He smiled through the pain… he couldn’t miss at this range. He brought his hand up, and released a ball of fire directly at the Nord’s face. She screamed as the fire burned into her, dropping her dagger and clutching at her face.

“Signy!” Faustina yelled, stumbling over from the bed.

Fang shoved the burning Nord into the Khajiit, to get a little distance. Tsarrina tried to help Signy, while Faustina’s eyes burned at Fang. “You stupid house-cat!” she yelled, another burst of lightning ripping out of her hands.

“Didn’t work the first time!” he yelled. Tsarrina roared and charged at him again, with Faustina not far behind. He blocked Tsarrina’s sword again, and though he felt Faustina’s knife slash against his arm, the heavy fur gloves helped a little. He pushed Tsarrina back with his shield while he kicked at Faustina where he had stabbed her earlier, she crumpled backwards with a cry.

“I’ll kill you!” Tsarrina yelled, aiming for a wide blow. Leaving herself wide open, in other words. Fang came in close and slammed his head into hers, wincing at his own pain, but as she stumbled backwards dazed, it was worth it. He lunged forward, sinking his dagger into her heart. She fell off the blade coughing.

“Last chance!” he said, pointing his bloody dagger at Faustina. She looked around, both of her friends clearly dying… and then fired another bolt of lightning. “I’ll see you rot you bastard!”

She cast a healing spell, and Fang cursed. He should have thought to do that himself, but before he could she was on him, shoving him to the ground and slashing at his chest with his knife.

He cried out, but struggled to push her off, trying to keep her hand away. Both of them were bloodied, and he she cried out as his own blade glanced off her arm, cutting a ribbon off red into her skin. They both fought at each other, rolling on the ground, knives pricking at their skins, before he finally kicked her off of him. She landed hard a few feet away, but she aimed to spring back up and charge.

Fang was faster. Another ball of fire ripped out of his hands, slamming into Faustina’s gut. She cried out for a moment, clutching at her stomach, before falling to the ground, gasping.

Then the door swung open, revealing two Anvil guards… and after a moment, Fang recognized them. “You are city guards?!” he yelled.

“By the gods,” Gogan said, looking around the room.

Maelona seemed less phased. Glancing down at the whimpering Faustina, she drew a knife, leaned down, and slit her throat. She stopped whimpering. “That we are. We were following you, but lost you once you left the road.”

“Yes, we…” Gogan just looked at the carnage, shaking his head. “In Dibella’s name, we didn’t want this.”

“Well good for you!” Fang snapped, reaching into his satchel and pulling out a potion. He took the cork from the bottle and hungrily drank at the healing liquid, throwing the bottle at the ground.

“You’ve been a great help,” Maelona said evenly, and held out a small linen bag. It clinked with coins. Fang stared at in disbelief.

“That’s… it?”

“And the gratitude of the Anvil City Watch, of course.”

Fang sneered, snatching the bag from her hand. “FINE, but this? All this?” He gestured around to the three dead bodies and spatters of blood. “This is your fault. This could have been avoided if you’d done your damn job.”

She frowned. “The situation dictated that-”

“Whatever,” he said, reaching down and taking the elven dagger Faustina had been using. He could see Gogan start to protest, but Maelona silenced him. Good, Fang thought. He was gonna milk this situation for every penny it was worth… he’d earned that much, by the Gods. And with the money and gear he would get from here, he could get out of this crazy town.

Oblivion: Rise and Shine

Timeline: At the beginning of Episode 2. Easily watched before or after.

            “Nnngh…” his hand moved to his eyes, shielding from the sudden brightness that came to him.

            “Up now!” came an authoritative voice from above him. “Sun is long up, Khajiit, and we don’t let the beggars spend their days regretting the night before.”

            Fang grumbled, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. “Sorry miss,” he growled, putting a hand to his head, “and not so loud, will you?”

            “Just get off your duff,” she said again. “No one’s complained yet, and I’d rather deal with it before they do. We’ve got enough beggars in Anvil.”

            Grumbling, Fang picked himself off the ground. He barely remembered coming out here… some sort of brawl at the bar with an uppity Bosmer… bartenders kicked him out… he stumbled around drunk…

            “Not a beggar,” Fang said defensively, brushing himself off. “Just drunk.”

            “Sure thing,” she said, crossing her arms.

            Fang growled, but didn’t posture too much against her. She may have been a human woman, but she was also a member of the city guard; he didn’t need to feel the blade to know it was sharp.

            “I mean it,” he said, trying to blink away sleep and hangover as best he could. “I arrived on the Floating Log last night. Just… well, had too much fun, I guess.”

            She smirked. “That’ll happen on the Docks. Still, your words won’t hold much water if I catch you sleeping on the ground again, Khajiit.”

            “Yeah yeah,” Fang grumbled, checking his pockets. He had maybe twenty coins. That might be enough money for an inn… for maybe one or two nights. Still…

            He glanced up at the guard. “You’ve got a Fighter’s Guild in town, yes?”

            She cocked an eyebrow, and nodded towards the buildings he’d been sleeping behind. “Yes, over on the square. Azzan runs a training center. Why?”

            He’d grumble. “Looking for work, and heard they were hiring.”

            He glared as she visibly glanced over him. He knew he wasn’t much to look at; he had a ratty old vest, some ill-fitting pants, and a pair of worn out moccasins on his feet. On his side he had a dagger hanging from a belt made of a knotted strand of rope.

            “I’m, um, are you sure that’s the best idea, sir?”

            “I’m not inept,” Fang snapped, running his fingers through his mane. “I’m hoping maybe I can get some gear on loan, work it off or something.”

            “I doubt it,” she said, and he thought he heard some sadness in her voice, “I mean, they used to do that, but there was a string of thefts, so Azzan tightened up regulations. You have to prove yourself with what’s on your back.”

            He grunted. “We’ll see about that,” he said angrily, and nodded at her. “Thank you for your… assistance, m’lady.”

            Fang sighed as he walked away, leaning on a wooden gate for a moment before opening it and stepping past, keeping a hand to his head as he walked. The guard watched him for a moment, before rolling her shoulders slightly and beginning to walk out. “Hmm… should tell Maelona about that one,” she mused to herself, heading towards the western edge of town.

Oblivion: Outbound Shipping

Timeline: The following takes place before Episode 1.

            They had a saying. Vaba Maaszi Lhajiito. It Is Necessary to Run Away.

            He didn’t know how right they were until now.

            “Name?” the man asked across the desk, filling out the paperwork.

            “My name?” He hesitated.

The swarthy Imperial across from him cocked an eyebrow. “Yes, your name. This should be the easiest question I ask you.”

“Ah, Fang. My name is Fang.” He supposed that would do. Maybe this guy wouldn’t know of Ja’Dango of Senchal. But better to cover his tracks as best as possible.

“Uh-huh” the Imperial said, scribbling on the paper. “Not really much of a Khajiit name.”

Fang’s ears pinned back against his head, and suppressing a growl, he reached into his coinpurse and dropped a few more golden septims on the table.

The Imperial glanced at them for a moment, and then smiled. “Alright Fang,” he said, palming the gold. “You work on a ship before?”

Another moment of hesitation, but he figured this would actually help him if he was honest. “Yes, I have. Might not be cut for the navy, but I know what needs doing.”

“Alright… and do you have a line of work?” he asked.

“Is that important?” Fang asked in exasperation. The Imperial just tapped the piece of paper. Fang sighed. “I guess my last job was a bodyguard to an alchemist in town. Bosmer by the name of Berengot. Before that I was a fisherman.” Half of that was a lie.

“If I send a man to find this Berengot, could he confirm this?”

Fang nodded. The man studied for a moment, but then scribbled down more information on the paper.

“Alright Khajiit. I’ll have to review this with Captain Fol, but you check out to get on the Floating Log by my book.”

“Good!” Fang said, perhaps too excitedly.

“Yeah yeah. Again, Captain may disagree. Be here at sun-up, and be ready to set sail. We’ll be hitting Falinesti and Anvil… where’d you want off again?”

“Anvil, if you’ll take me,” Fang said, hoping he didn’t sound too pathetic.

The man just nodded and then waved his hand, dismissing Fang. He walked out, back into the harsh, bright light of Elseweyr. He took a deep breath of the sea air, glancing up at the gulls circling above the docks.

By this time tomorrow, if all went well, he’d be long gone from Elseweyr, and within a couple of days he’d be free to start a new life in Cyrodiil. Sure, it had cost him almost everything he had made guarding that fetid little drug dealer, Berengot, but at least he’d be gone from it all. He wasn’t sure what he’d do next once he went to Anvil, but… once he got some cash, he was pretty sure he’d aim for the Imperial City. Or maybe he’d check out the arena of Kvatch, which a more worldly uncle of his had explained in great detail before.

Either way, he’d be out of Elseweyr, and far away from any and all of the troubles that followed him here.