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Tales of a Lonely Khajiit

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Xalos Promythos's picture
Joined: 07/04/2014

“This is S’Jazaari. Jazaari doesn’t know where he is. Jazaari can’t find his group or land that he knows!  It is like Jazaari is dreaming, but it is all very real. This feels pointless – writing a letter asking for help – but Jazaari really doesn’t know in which part of Tamriel he is!”


The Unexpected Light


Dar’khashyyyk, Ri’urjorad, Ma’rijja-sin and Jazaari were just at the border of Cyrodiil and Skyrim, travelling with our caravan and all of our wares. Just like Ri’saad, a friend of ours, we trusted that the Civil War was a great opportunity to make gold, even if a lot of courage was required to step in during such a dangerous moment in history.

It was night and windy. There was not enough space for the four of us inside the caravan, so we had to alternate – some would walk and some would stay inside. Still, we made sure that Ma’rijja-sin would stay seated the whole voyage through. The roads of Tamriel are not quite hospitable – occasionally we would find traces of camps that had been made in the past, some very recent indeed. We have heard our entire lives that there are many bandit groups, especially in Skyrim and Cyrodiil, so we had to keep one eye on the road and one eye on the bushes.

The travel, until then, had been quite peaceful. As mentioned earlier, we had only encountered remains of settlements and not really people who could pose  any threat. We would stop to hunt or rest and the meals were excellent for we had brought along some salt. Ri’urjorad would stop to tell us stories and teach us survival techniques in extreme situations. Jazaari would write down his words on one of his journals and re-read them every night.

It was lovely when the moons replaced the sun. Me and Ma’rijja would talk and play around our camp. Dar’khashyyyk would plead for some moonsugar and Ri’urjorad would smile.

“Yes. Let us bathe in our culture and bow to divinity.” He would announce.

                What we did not know, however, was that, after such a harmless trip, harm would find its way to us. Jazaari was walking behind the caravan, wielding his bow - crafted by his own deft hands - when all of a sudden there is a very big explosion of white light and a deafening high pitched sound. Jazaari loses his senses. All he can remember before blacking out was Ma’rijja-sin’s little face inside the caravan; how desperate she looked and how dark her scream sounded. And then whiteness engulfed us all. Jazaari remembers being pushed very far away and landing hard on soft grass. Still, he was almost unconscious so he couldn’t keep track of where he had fallen or how far away from his friends had he been shot out. What followed next was pure agony…


Xalos Promythos's picture
Joined: 07/04/2014

Oh, I forgot to mention: this should be developed collectively, with each person adding new content. Let's see how far this story goes. 

Kiya'daro's picture
Joined: 03/17/2014

It's not going very far is?

The Feather's picture
Joined: 08/22/2013

It is said that somewhere in the world, Elves don't sleep. Instead, they enter a situation they call trance. That would be the best word describing Jazaari's situation. He gazed deep, as chaos went on around him...


The next day, Jazaari woke up, in the middle of burned wood, which once was his group's caravan. No food, no weapons. Fortunately, no bodies either. Seems the others had been taken as hostages.

Looking further around, the place was untouched. Silent. As if nothing had happened. The night's wind had taken everyone's smell from there.

"One more day of travelling and we would've made it to Helgen. Dammit!"

Helgen was more or less a quiet town. Not much to fear, or to ask for; good as a starting step. From there, either it were moon sugar or skooma, the light town guard would not even care.

But everything was lost now. His team gone, the merchandise vanished. Ma' rijja-sin was lost.

A glimpse to his ealrier trance made him see Ma' rijja-sin's face, just like when he got hit. So tender, so fragile... He had to find them.

He had to find her.

So he made it on foot. He was still alive, thank the gods for that, and he had to go on. Staying in the same place doing nothing wouldn't help at all.

His armor would still endure; he was hit only with the magical attack; the bandits ignored him after that. Fortunately, they didn't loot the gold he had kept on him, just in case.

With all the smell, a wolf showed up. Jazzari crouched right away, but he was too late; the wolf had noticed him and had started howing against him.

More of them showed up; it was as expected; two more wolves appeared beside the first, both snarling, their teeth out.

However, territory or not, Jazaari was getting out the winner of this fight. With the claws and the fangs and the size of his own, he made the wolves have a bitter loss, and their easy-to-skin-out pelt would be some fine loot to start selling.


Without any other incidents, going on up north, he eventually reached Helgen, but the day had gone on quite a bit. None was out, and big cube stone was in the middle of where he entered.


No bounty was on his head, so no big tension covered him. But still, that stone looked like a dim-looking future.

<<Hello, sir. Welcome to Helgen.>>

Jazaari was startled by a town watchman.

>>...Had you been in the wilderness like this? Not even a knife? You must either be brave, fool or robbed.

<<I still have this pelt to sell.>>

<<Hmm. Go to the inn over there. The owner might give you a bed for one of these.>>

<<Thank you and good night.>>


as they parted, Jazaari heard the guard whispering "...furlicker..."

"Much prejudice, even here", he thought.

The inn was warm, with a bonfire alight in the middle, and soup getting cooked in a cauldron.

<<Hello, stranger! Welcome to Helgen Inn. How can I help you?>>

<<I need a room for the night.>>

<<That will be fifteen septims.>> "Too much gold and I need mine for a weapon." thought Jazaari.

<<I don't have much gold to pay you, but I can pay you in wolf pelt.>>

<<-Hmm. Can I have a look at one?>>

<<Sure>>, said Jazaari, offering one pelt over to the inn keeper.

<<Did you skin the animal with claws? This isn't very good. If you want a room here without gold, you better have another one of these.>>

Jazaari pushed over the second one.

<<Fine. Oh! this one's better. Hmm. I'm a good person, and I have to keep proving that, even to strangers. Your name was...>>

<<It is Jazaari.>>

<<Yes, indeed; Jazaari. Not difficult to say. Mine's Falkin. If you give me these two pelts,with the bed, I will have my wife fix a good meal for you tomorrow when y' wake up. Deal?>>


<You're straightforward. I like that in a man. Get a good night's sleep, and m' lady will have her special cooked for ya. Don't put your eyes to the soup. That's far too petty for a dealsman like you. So, goodnight!>>


The bed was warm and cozy enough. It was yet the Mid Year, and snow was still far away. Nevertheless, the bed sheets and blanket were quite thick, as nights were cold enough..

"I've missed the warmth of Elsweyr", he thought and tucked himself tight in the blanket.


The next day, an knock woke Jazaari up.

<<Hello? May I come in?>>

It was some lady, probably the owner's wife.

<<Wait please!>> It wasn't the time to show Skyrim the anatomy of Khajiit males.

Jazaari put on cuirass, greaves and boots quickly and made his way to the door.

Opening it, a lass-looking nord woman said:

<<Ahh, our hunter, always ready to roll... Aren't I right?>>

Her charms combined with his still sleepy mind led him to an awkward pause, but she continued.

>>My dear husband told me that he made a deal with you, that I make a good meal for you. My special, that is, chicken cooked in honey mead with vegetables. How does that sound?>>

A growl was heard from Jazaari's belly, making him feel further uncomfortable.

<<Hmm! Seems your body is so eager, that it speaks itself! Anyway, the dish is ready, so come and eat it warm.>>

After having the meal, Falkin came over.

<<So, Jazaari. You are definetely new here, and without company or weapons. Experience tells me that such people have a story instead. Would you tell me yours?>>

<<Can I have a map of this place?>>

Falkin reached for a map.

>>I came with three other people from Elsweyr, going to Riften, where one of our cousins is located. But somewhere here>> Jazaari pointed a place south from Helgen,<<we got ambushed by bandits.>>

>> When they did, they fired some spell to me and I fell unconcious, and that is why maybe nobody had taken me with my company>>.

Falkin had a gravely looking face: <<That place is near Greywater Grotto, a bandit base. Stopping there is a bad idea, but hey, don't blame yourself. We'll make it.>>

<<It's time to sell the third pelt anyway. And a money paying job would be good too.>>


Selling the pelt wasn't hard, as many adventurers visit the market to sell their loot. However, there was nobody hiring anyone there.

At least, he bought a fine shortsword for a good price, and he was ready to go.

Rumor had it that there was always some job to do in Riverwood, so he planned to make his way there.

Before leaving, he went to the inn and bought some food, and also had a ring that brings good luck from Falkin.

<<May fortune follow wherever you go my friend. Stay safe.>>

<<May the moons protect you during your sleep.>>

Exiting the city gate, the world smelled fresh. Another journey began.

The Feather's picture
Joined: 08/22/2013

Starting a new journey is like beginning anew, just with an aim, without knowing what is between you and it, either air or a rock. A main purpose defines our goals. However, who we really are is revealed only on the way.


So far Jazaari walked in new land. The second day from his life reset would be the reason to consider.

Or so had the Redguard pilgrim had said. Jazaari found him on the road, walking slowly but steadily; melancoly filled his face.

<<Are you going to Riverwoood?>>

<<Nope. I am making my weekly travel to the Guardian Stones, to receive their blessing. We can go together there, though. The stones are on your way. So, what is your name?>>

<<It is Jazaari.>>

<<Hmm. Name's Danjo, and I am too old to make big travels. My pilgrimage to the Guardian Stones is all I can handle.>>

The Redguard wielded a longbow, and that made him remember the night of the attack


<<I'm not poking with your story, friend, but it seems we got company.>>

And some company. One of those "sabre cat" tigers, that looked like a Pahmar Khajiit, but with big teeth.

Back in Elsweyr, most kinds of Khajiit would avoid each other, and territorial disputes were rare, but this was different. Jazaari knew they had to survive this.

<<Prepare your bow, Danjo.>> said Jazaari. <<Don't move an inch. I will give him a good run, so prepare your bow when he doesn't see you.>>

As he spoke, Jazzari untied his cuirass, and threw it to the sabre cat's face. It staggered, and he started to run.

Thus he began to run in circles. As a cat himself, Jazaari would run really fast if he was threatened, just like now.

Fortunately, the cat didn't notice Danjo, even when he started to shoot it.

With time, the sabre cat got tired by its weight and blood loss, and when it crashed, Jazaari took his sword and killed it.

<<When you threw your cuirass, I thought you were nuts, kid!>> said the Redguard, giving Jazaari his armor back. <<Thankfully, you're quite the runner.>>

<<Indeed I am. Anyway we should go on.>>

<<This reminded me the bandit base here, a big one: the Pinewatch. It's close to the way to the Guardian Stones, so we should better keep an eye on the road.>>

<<How have you survived travelling this route so many times?>>

<<During the day, like now, I can see well enough to know if someone is around the corner for me. During the night, on the way back, i put on a cloak given to me by an old deceased friend, which makes me a little invisible during the night, so I avoid most threats.>>

"Sounds reasonable." thought Jazaari. The thought of having this cloak was tempting enough, but the thought of the executioner's stone, was quite the discouragement. "I want a clean name now."

A laugh was heard in the distance, alerting both Jazaari and Danjo, who leapt in the bushes.

<<It must be a bandit or more. You're sure how many are they. Let's go around this plce and avoid them.>>

<<Wait.>> said Jazaari. <<I smell honey mead. It must be just one.>>

<<Oh whatever! Let's just avoid him!>>

<<No. If he is to make mistakes, then it is time he got punished for not keeping his guard. Stay here.>>

<<Fine. If I hear your dying scream, then I am off.>>

<<Oh you will hear a dying scream, but it will not be mine.>>

Still crouching, Jazaari approached the tree trunk where the laugh was heard from. In there he saw nothing except mead, and a young man, some armor tossed aside, and near the armor was..., that couldn't be. That was his bow.


Jazaari unsheathed his shortsword, and with one hand muffling his victim's mouth, he stabbed him in his gut, with all the hatred he had for the night of the attack. Then, he took his bow, as well as all the mead to make this kill look like a robbery.

Then he returned to Danjo, who was relieved to see him.

<<Now we must go fast. If they find this guy dead, they will start searching the whole area, even as far as the Stones. We must go quickly.>>

The day passed slowly, and when they finally reached the Guardian Stones, the moons were already rising. They had been walking nonstop after that incident with the bandit.

<<So, these are the Guardian Stone. You may pray to one of them and they will bless your path. The Thief Stone, The Mage Stone, and the Warrior Stone.>>

After some thought, Jazaari stood in front of the Thief Stone, placed his hands on it, and concentrated on it. Right away, the hole on the Stone lighted up, giving its blessing. Jazaari started to feel more agile for a moment, as the blessing started to work.

<<This might help me a bit more in my journey than the others.>>

<<I really hope to stay on your side. I will keep this a secret. Not many receive this blessing with company.>>

<<I see. So, what do we do now?>>

<<Well, now I would normally go straight back up to Helgen, but your actions gave me a second thought. I will follow you to Riverwood.>>

A noise came from the mountains, like a war cry.

<<It's the bandits. We have to run.>>

<<I am an old man, boy. I can't run like I used to. They'll reach us if we go together.>>

<<No.>> Jazaari looked the stones. <<Take the Thief Blessing, now!>>

<<Alright, alright.>> He took the blessing. <<Take some of my stuff so I can go faster.>>

<<Alright. Now let's go.>>

Fortunately, the way on was going doen, and the bandits took a wrοng turn, so they slowed their pace when Rivierwood was in sight. Both men were breathing heavilly.

<<Enough!>> said Danjo between huffing.

Jazaari understood that running was not a good solution. Instead, h saw a tree he could climb, and the leaves would hide them from their pursuers.

<<Do you have any rope with you?>>

<<Yes, but...>>

<<Give it to me quickly, now!>>

In moments he had built a sack in which Khajiit mothers take their babies with. Danjo was no baby, but it had to work.

<<Are you insane? it's imposible!>>

<<Do you want to survive?>>

<<Fine. But you will carry me the way down, when this is over.>>

Danjo climbed into the basket and unbelievably, he carried both of them up to a large branch of an oak. Soon, they were safe, or, at least, unseen.

Not much after, bandits were running about among the trees that surrounded the two men.

They were about ten men and three women. The last that came was the largest of them all. As he continued, a minion of his came, probably to report.

<<We found no one sir.>>

The big man punched his fist in the tree, which shook a bit, and even Jazaari and Danjo felt it.

The bandit continued: <<You should have left someone more experienced there, my ringleader. Your son wasn't ready yet and he couldn't...>>

A punch in the face that crushed the bandit's skull stopped his words.

<<I WILL FIND YOU, AND I WILL KILL YOU!>> he roared to the wilderness. <<Enough boys! We'll have our chance another time.>> he shouted, and the other bandits retreated.

After a while, it was late night. and nothing was to be heared.

Both Jazaari and Danjo were tired from sitting on that tree, and the ground seemed safe for now. Jazaari slowly  helped Danjo descend, and then Jazaari jumped. Like a cat, he touched the ground on his feet, and thus safely.

<<Your feline kin always surprises me.>> remarked Danjo.

<<We should be brief now. The woods aren't safe at night.>>

They travelled to Rivenwood fast, without any other incidents.They found a bed each and slept.

The day today was hard, and things have had to get settled. However, for now, a good night's sleep would do.

The Feather's picture
Joined: 08/22/2013

i really look forward to see this story continued by someone else too.

Stygies VIII's picture
Joined: 08/18/2015

Wherever your adventures would take you, some things still haunt the mind. Uncompleted tasks, long lost loves, old grudges and dreams of future glory are disturbingly durable. Dusts of long roads and the destructible force of time do not harm such things.

At night, he heard it again. And saw it again. The scream. The small, fragile face in the caravan. The blast of blinding, deafening magicka.

S'Jazaari opened his eyes and sit up in his bed. It was still night but beautiful Masser and Secunda in their full phases filled the room with silver light. He rubbed his face and sighed. Maybe one should return as soon as possible? -he thought. Gathering forces in this city and then going to find out what happened to his comrades would be the best option right now, though. Sleep is important too, he thought, looking at the Redguard who was deep asleep.

He didn't remember going back to sleep but then he woke up again, and it was already morning this time. The room was empty. Chatter of the tavern visitors greeted S'Jazaari from behind the wooden door. He got up, dressed in his clothes and armour, and walked into the main hall to order some food and find his companion.

Danjo sat alone behind a long table, consuming mead and a huge bowl of thick soup that could satisfy any traveller's belly. The Khajiit ordered a cup of mead and the soup for himself and sat in front of his new friend.

"It's high time we start looking for solutions, S'Jazaari cannot bear the thought of his family suffering somewhere in a bandit hideout. Unless you don't want to."

The elderly Redguard looked into his soup for a while, thinking. "You know... I wouldn't be of much use, but now you made me think. I can travel to find the Stones across Skyrim as much as I want, but what is the use of it, just the damn achievement? I will be more useful for the rest of my life that's left -and it's probably not much -if I help someone. I'm in. I'm going with you"

S'Jazaari smiled and started his meal which has been brought in this moment. They ate in silence, paid for their food, and then left to buy supplies and think about what they should do next. The two men spent septims on potions and various food and during shopping they tried to ask around if there's anyone willing to go with someone who is in trouble and would pay for help. "There is Gared, that Nord who lives by the main street. Ask him." they heard. And so they did.

A fair haired lad opened the door. "What is it?"

"We are looking for Gared. We heard he is looking for adventures." said Danjo.

"Shor's buttocks, of course I am! It's me. Yes. A septim or two is good for a start, it all depends in whether I can find more during the... adventure."

"It's... the bandits." replied S'Jazaari "I think they might have something saved in their chests."

"Well, when do we start, then?"

"Now." said the Khajiit. But not S'Jazaari -it turned out they were observed by a weary, tall and thin but muscular Khajiit with grey fur. "It's time. It's time they pay for it. By Jone and Jode, it IS TIME."

S'Jazaari didn't know what to say at first. "They pay... for what?"

"For their foul trade. When Zhirr saw you and heard you say 'bandits', Zhirr already knew. They sell pelts and these are not any animal pelts, but KHAJIIT pelts" he replied, saying the word 'Khajiit' with sad, helpless anger. "Also, Zhirr found this on one of those scoundrels." he reached to his leather backpack and showed them a small pendant -a bright, perfectly white stone.

Danjo travelled many roads and wildernesses and he knew. It was of Ayleid origin, it was sure. But why? Why were the bandits involved in something so terrible, why did one of them have this stone...?