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   CHAPTER 1: THE ARRIVAL

It was a particularly cold day that day in Windhelm. A perfect day for hot drink and warm bed, and warmer company in those beds. Nords in the Candlehearth are Hall enjoying this, while the Dark Elves and other 'undesirables' cozied up in the barely sustainable Grey Quarter, and the ever fashionable New Gnisis Corner Club. Late at night this day was, 3 hours to sunrise, on the 12th day of Frostfall, Sundas.

 While most Argonians in Windhelm are just making peanuts working the docks, one Argonian happened to be on the approach to Windhelm, nearing the gates in a merchant's caravan. His name was Deed-Chath. A young Argonian male in his prime, snow was falling between the unarmoured green-grey scales on his neck, causing him to shake and clear che cold flakes from his scales. Deed squinted through the snow, so thick it was practically a mist coating the road ahead his snout poking out between his relatively protective helmet's plates "Are you sure there's a city here, Adalad?" The young Argonian spoke to his Breton companion, sat atop the carriage and carefully guiding the horses through the thick, mist-like snow. "Yes, yes, dear boy! How many times must I tell you, Windhold...er...Winterhelm? The city is right there! Look, you can practically see the walls now." Adalad pointed towards a vague figure in the fog and Deed squinted harder, scrunching up his face in concentration before giving a sigh.

 "Fine, I'll take your word for it." he leaned back in his seat and took a swig of some cheap ale, hoping to warm hinself up. "This better be one hell of a city if I'm freezing my tail off in this stupid carriage..." he looked back to Adalad, who he would hopefully never have to see again. Deed took another sip of Ale and began digging through his satchel, continuing to absent-mindedly sip at his ale while removing a folded and now horribly wrinkled and stained piece of paper, re-reading the faint ink words to make sure he wasn't getting scammed out of his pay. "You, Freelancer do declare blahblahblah protect the carriage blahblahblah will recieve advance payment of 500 septims, then 500 more after journey is complete..." Deed read to himself. He folded the paper back over and stuffed it back into his satchel, heaving a sigh of boredom as he began to finish off the last quarter of his ale...

The Carriage suddenly came to a halt, with a loud snort and a cry of 'woah' from Adalad. Deed is tossed forwards and his ale is sent flying out the back of the cart and somewhere in the deep snow.

Deed groans and turns angrily around to yell some form of obscenity at Adalad. "Hey! You-" Deed is cut short as he notices the large, towering walls of Windhelm, and the sturdy iron gates shielding the inside of the town from their meagre carriage. Deed blinks several times before looking towards Adalad, who was talking in hushed tones to a burley looking guard in a face-concealing mask, another guard stood near the horse, seemingly inspecting it for illegal items strapped on or in the horses, while a third guard came around the rear of the carriage to inspect it's contents.

The guard clambered into the carriage with some grunts of effort, ignoring Deed, who began to stand up. The guard began poking through chests and baskets, turning kettles over, and inspecting corners like they were hiding the secret to divinity. Finally the guard looks at Deed, while another guard climbs into the carriage as well, he looks him up and down then scoffs. "Here to work the docks, lizard?" he crossed his arms over his chest. "I beg pardon?" Deed replied, surprised the guards would be so rude.

The second guard nudged the first and pointed at Deed's chest. "No dock scum I know wears steel plate, he must be a caravan guard let him be." the second guard turned to leave and the 1st guard followed. Deed took turned back to look at Adalad, who was seemingly finished talking to the gate-keeping guard, as the guard yelled an incoherent word up towards the top of the walls, and the doors began to open.

As the doors creaked and groaned, they began to reveal the city itself. Deed leaned forward, bracing himself on the rear of the driver's seat as they began moving forwards. Inside the town was several staircases, decorated with faded stone carvings of some sort of mythical beasts, beyond that was what looked like a lodge, or an inn of sorts. Deed grunted as he was shifted to the right, the caravan turned left to head up a thin ramp towards another block of the large city. Guided by guards, the carriage made its way into a large marketplace filled with empty stalls.

As the carriage rattled onward, Deed noticed the peculiar glances the guards were giving the duo. Some even appeared to be muttering under their breathe as the carriage passed. "Perhaps...they do not get many caravans here? But it is such a large city..." Deed spoke, mostly to himself, however Adalad answered. "Ahh, yes. You're new to Skyrim, right? Well this is Winderholdem, home of Cloaked Storms...something like that...they don't like non-Nords because they want Skyrim tax free or something, I try to stay out of politics..." Deed grunted in acknowledgement, and the carriage came to a slow halt.

"Right, Deed, we have 3 hours to sunrise, get us unpacked, and get ready to guard!" Adalad cheerfully cried, hopping down from the driver's seat and merrily marching towards the rear of the carriage. Deed scowled, watching the arrogant Breton strut by. "Hey! That is not in the contract! You want me to unload, that's EXTRA!" Deed shouted. 

Adalad sighed annoyedly. "Fiiine..." he sighed. "Just...there's another 100 septims for you in it, and uh...I guess that whole bottle of Dunmer Ale, Nords hate it anyway..." Deed scoffed, but begrudgingly got to work. Fastening the bottle of ale into his satchel and sipping from it on occasion, he unloaded the carriage and set up a small perimeter for the stall-keepers to come get their goods. A small portable table here, a stool there, and chests surrounded by wooden walls, it looked similar to a stall on its own, but with the addition of a strange symbol painted crudely on the front of the portable desk, stall-owners and shopkeepers would know what they were there for.

Deed finished off the Dunmer Ale, giving a short belch and tossing the empty container into the deep snow, patting his stomach and seating himself on the rear of the carriage, he looked around for Adalad, so he could collect his final pay and maybe purchase a room and a meal at wherever the inn was.

Adalad however was nowhere to be found. Deed sighed, not wanting to leave the valuable merchant's stock unguarded, he would position himself comfortable on the carriage and waits for Adalad to return.

Deed rested his chin on his gloved hand and sighed, letting his mind wander. He realized that during the whole trip, he'd only taken a leak once on the journey! He let this roll over in his mind. As a waterborn creature by nature, he had a large bladder, and as a creature also naturally larger than most species, it was still a smidge larger, allowing himself plenty of breathing room for that. He discarded the thought and once again began to think. "Perhaps there will be some fair Argonian maidens in need of a virile and intelligant male such as myself..." he smiled at this thought, and took a short look around as if they might just magically appear because Akatosh felt kind that night...

Disappointed at the only women around being snow-women, Deed returned to boredom.

The sun began to rise and Deed groaned loudly, he'd been stuck freezing his tail off all night, while Adalad probably slept in a warm bed, laughing to himself that he got the guard to unload AND watch the cargo all night. "I'll have a talk with that Breton bastard later..." Deed spoke aloud. Deed layed back in the carriage and began to stare up into the sky, realizing that he'd been sitting there at least two and a half hours...he suddenly felt a small urge in his abdomen, somewhat hard to feel under his layers of armor, but a feeling everyone knows. Deed might need to pee.

Deed sat up again, treating the situation as a small annoyance, that he would properly deal with at an inn after Adalad returned. Deed curled in on himself somewhat and shivered, the cold probably made him realize his need to pee.

The sun had finally risen from its slumber, some warmth returning to the cold hold of Eastmarch, and the colder than ice tundras of Skyrim.

As the crimson morning rays of sunlight pierced the veil of fog and illuminated the walls around him, Deed saw the Breton returning to the caravan, his clothes untidy and his hat sideways, as well as his amulet of Mara gone. He was rubbing his forehead and slowly trundling over to the carriage, he stopped several feet in front of Deed, then scooped up a handful of snow and placed it against his head.

For several seconds nothing but the howling wind could be heard before Deed broke the silence.

"Adalad! You fool! We had 3 hours 'til sunrise and you managed to get robbed and beat up?!" Deed yelled with a tinge of panic in his voice, now how was he going to get payed?

The Breton groaned and pushed the snow against his forehead a little harder, giving a short sigh and looking up at Deed. "Keep your voice dow-aagh, please...I didn't get robbed, Nord women are just really rough..."

Deed glared at the man for about a minute, hopping off the carriage and pointing an accusatory finger at the hungover Breton. "You got drunk and banged Nord hookers in just 3 hours?!" Deed hissed "There wasn't even enough time for that! HOW did you even wake up in time to get out here?! You better be paying me an extra 200 spetims for my time!"

Adalad groaned in pain as the Argonian spoke, only paying half attention. "If you must know, it's an old Breton secret...now just...ugh...lemme just...yeah you'll get extra pay...now just...wait here with me until the shopkeepers come buy their stock.." Adalad stumbled over to the stool in the make-shift stall and sat down with a groan, scooping a second handful of snow up off the ground and beginning to eat it. "G'nn h'rse goah th' h'rses.." Deed sighed in annoyance, and spat his words at the Breton as if they were arrows dipped in frostbite venom. "Speak when your mouth is not full of snow, Adalad..."

Adalad raised one finger up at Deed, gesturing for him to wait as he swallowed the snow. Deed waited inpatiently, folding his arms across his chest. "Adala-" Deed began to spoke, but was interrupted as the Breton spat his snow out and spoke quickly. "GoputthehorsesonthethingwhereyouputthehorsespleaseDeedyou'regivingmeaheadache!" 

Deed gave Adalad and unamused look and untied the horse from the carriage, bringing him several feet from the carriage when he realized the stables were OUTSIDE the city gates. Deed huffed, simply returning the horse to the carriage. Adalad seemed to pay no attention to this, instead simply nursing his quite obviously painful hangover. As Deed watched, amused at Adalad's pain, he thought for a moment. "I should book a room for later tonight at the inn so that I can just sleep whem I get the chance. Perhaps Adalad will let me go do that and I can use a chamber pot." Deed opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a guard, who hailed the duo. "Lizard, Breton, you need a permit to set up a stall in town, you can't just-" As the guard spoke, Adalad sat up and then groaned loudly to interrupt him, digging into his satchel while the guard then began to make a snide remark about lollygagging. Adalad slammed a piece of parchment on the stall counter and the guard huffed, dissatisfied he could harass them no longer. Deed realized he didn't know they needed a permit, or whether or not he would be needed to guard the stall all day...he dreaded the thought, and turned to Adalad. "Adalad." Deed said.

"Whaaaaaaaaaat?" Adalad whined.

"Where is the inn, I will book myself a room for tonight, and will you need me to stand guard all day? That costs extra." Deed placed his hands on his hips for emphasis.

Adalad shot up in his stool, a smile spreading across his face that likely meant no good was to come of the next statement. "An excellent idea, Deed! Stand guard here all day if you'd please, and if you can get to the Candlehearth befor-" Adalad was interrupted. "Candlehearth?" Deed inquired. "Is that the name of the inn? Where is it?" Adalad frowned. "I was going to tell you if you LET ME FINISH, impatient boy...it's in the middle of the square, and yes, it is the inn...they have drink and rooms, but eh...probably not for you. Aheh."

Deed cocked his head to the side, and gave the Breton a curious look. "Not for me? Why so? You better not be making up things so that you don't have to-" now Deed is interrupted by Adalad, who seems to have a tinge of 'backpedaling fear' in his voice. "Well I mean err...well it's just the Nords here and the Cloaked Stormers just don't like us...non-Nord folk...especially the ones that don't look like them. They tolerate a Breton, but an Argonian?" Adalad scoffs, then chuckles and gives a rude snort. "Fat chance."

Deed glares at Adalad, not unused to the rude Breton's mannerisms, he simply begins to walk in the direction of the inn. "I doubt you, I will check myself..." Deed calls over his shoulder.

Adalad says something in response, it sounds somewhat frantic but Deed chooses to ignore it, his bladder has only gotten more demanding since the sun has risen, and his crotch is beginning to feel...unconfortable...however as a dignified man he will hold it, and use a chamber pot at the inn.

Deed opens the surprisingly heavy door and finds...less people than he thought there would be. A drunk nord sits at the bar counter, mumbling into his tankard, a tired bard strums lazily at her lute, and a comely nord woman is absent-mindedly looking at wine and mead bottles for imperfections.

Deed approaches the bar, seating himself next to the drunken Nord and clearing his throat to get the barmaiden's attention. She begins to speak without looking at Deed, she seems to almost be reading from a script with how practiced her greeting is; "This here's Candlehearth Hall. Great room's upstairs, an' there's a bed for rent on the ground floor, food for the hungry, drink for the thirsty. My name is Elda what can I get y-" She seems to stop speaking as she turns to look at Deed, then blinks several times. "Ah...you must be new here..." she adopts a flat tone, it barely covers the contempt in her voice. "Is there something you need?" she raises an eyebrow at Deed.

"Yes ma'am, I just came into town and I would like to reserve a room for the day, and...eh...a little mead never hurt." Deed gave a polite smile, which Elda did not return. Without speaking she reached under the table and placed a tankard on the counter, then poured an already open bottle of mead into the tankard until it foamed to the brim. The amber liquid seemingly reminded Deed of his need to urinate, and he clenched his jaw lightly, but his thirst outweighed his other needs for now.

Elda looked Deed up and down. "Dock workers usually talk to Shatter-Shield, he runs the-" Deed cut her off "I am not here to work the docks...thank you...now about that room?" he leaned forward slightly, expecting her to give a price for it, but instead she shook her head. "Sorry lizard but we're packed right to the brim, we sold the last room about ten minutes ago. And that drink is 3 septims." the bartender went back to examining bottles.

Deed, sensing the agression towards himself gave a short grunt and placed 3 septims on the table before quickly downing his drink. Setting the tankard aside and scooting his stool backwards, he turned to his left and began to stand up, however as he stood, the scabbard of his sword struck the drunk Nord on the rear. Causing him to wake up, drunk and angry. He shot out of his stool and it clattered to  ground, he looked to his right, then left, eyeing Deed's back as he began to exit the inn.

"'Ey! Shtupid Lizard! What've ya tah say fer y'self?!" the Nord approached Deed, who turned to face the man, confused. "Beg pardon, is something the matter, warm-blood?" the Nord eyed Deed up and down, crossing his arms defiantly. "Aye there'sh shomething wrong cold-blood, your shcabb'rd hit me! I'd been shleepin'!"

Deed cocked his head to the side, confused at the Nord's anger. "So?"

The Nord began to turn red in anger, like a drunken tomato. "Sho?! Sho?! Sho?! That'ere my favourite shleep! You gotta pay fer't!"

Deed scoffed. "How am I going to pay for you-" Deed was cut short by the stabbing pain in his jaw, as he was thrown back in surprise, stumbling into the wall and rubbing his jaw with a yell of pain, and his bladder reminded him that it was getting full.

"THAT'SH how y' can pay fer me sleep!" the Nord laughed, placing his hands on his hips in a triumphant .

Deed hissed at the man and threw himself at him in rage, sending a punch for the drunken Nord's beer belly.

The Nord gasped, the air being pulled from his lungs as he was struck off guard, in his surprise and drunkeness, he would stumble back and trip over his own fallen barstool, tumbling to the ground, a loud yell and a clatter of wood and metal landing in a crumpled heap of pain, with a loud THUMP, sucking air in winded gasps.

Deed blinked twice, not expecting his punch to be half as effective, he would quickly exit the inn, to avoid further confrontation, and the inevitable arrival of the guards.

Deed hurried his way back to the carriage and the makeshift stall, approaching the counter and looking at Adalad, who had seemingly managed to shrug off his hangover. He looked up at Deed and questioned him. "Any luck?" he grinned, already knowing the answer.

Deed grunted "Conflict of interests..." he sighed once more and leaned against the side of the makeshift stall, which would be his new post. Deed was not satisfied with today's events so far; he stayed out all night guarding supplies while Adalad got drunk, so he's tired, he didn't get a room at the inn, and he got into a fight which might get him jail time, and worst of all he 'still' had to pee. Deed scoffed in disdain for the city he had only just arrived at. "This place sucks..." he spoke aloud.

"Whatever, you're just jealous, scales..." Adalad chuckled.

Deed growled "Shut up, Adalad or I'm raising my fee."

"...whatever Deed..."
 

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After what felt like ages to Deed's ever filling bladder, and Adalad's aching head, a merchant finally strolled up to the stall, looking displeased with Adalad. The merchant in question was a burly Nordic man, wearing a blacksmith's apron, and a scowl.

Adalad put on a smug face and began to speak. "Good morning, esteemed customer, here to restock y-” Adalad is cut off by the blacksmith, who scowls and speaks in a commanding tone. "Cut it with the gift of gab, Breton, I'm here for the ingots, and you better be selling at good rates...the last merchant re-stocker thought he could scam the honest folk out of their hard earned septims, know where he is now, Breton?" the Nord eyed Adalad fiercely, and Adalad calmly replied. "As a matter of fact, I don't." he folded his hands in his lap as he spoke, and maintained a polite tone.

"Exactly..."the Nord merchant spat.

"Oh I see..." Adalad said, in a somewhat low speaking voice, opening a nearby chest that Deed remembered was incredibly heavy when he was unloading it, in fact he couldn't lift it, he just dragged it to where it is now.

As Adalad opened the chest it became apparent why it was so heavy...

Steel, iron, and corundum ingots slowly stacked on the stall table as Adalad began counting them out for the merchant, who was digging in his coin purse for septims...

Deed allowed his mind to wander, if only to take his need off his thoughts  for awhile, he began to wonder what goings on were happening at home in Black Marsh, he began to miss the calm breeze and the nice, summer heat of the swamps...the gentle lapping of the streams against the banks and the lazy summer days in the- Deed grunted low and waved a hand over his crotch, catching himself before he ended up holding his groin. "Perhaps these memories are best left for the future..." he spoke to himself in a hushed tone, and shifted his legs slightly, shaking his head to get some snow off his snout. Deed watched the snowfall, in order to both kill time, and take his mind off of his need, while Adalad 'haggled' prices with his new 'friend'. Deed found their interactions amusing, chuckling as the Nord blacksmith continued to pressure Adalad. "Where oh where has Adalad's charm gone?" Deed laughed, watching as the Nord blacksmith walked away, hauling two bags of ingots over his shoulders, with obvious effort.

"Deed...Deed-Chath...I am paying you to look scary and protect me, you're an alligator man, you can't just let them walk up and threaten me, you oaf!" Adalad complained, rubbing his forehead with his finger and his thumb.

Deed turned to look at the angry Breton "No, you payed me to get your cart here safely...this? This is extra...besides, you looked like you had it under control, with your Breton charms." Deed laughed, a short hissy laugh that Adalad showed clear disdain for. "Ugh, must you laugh in that manner? My poor head is going through enough pain as is without you doing...that damned laugh..." Adalad covered his ears with his heavily gloved hands, and rested his chin on the stall desk.

"Perhaps you should go get a healing remedy from the local shaman, you debauchery loving fool." Deed shifted uncomfortably in place again, his need growing further...but he continued to suppress it.

"Perhaps...I might do that...but it was my idea, hear me?" Adalad chided.

"Sure thing, my ever so wonderful employer..." Deed chuckled, and Adalad rose from his stool and hurried off in the direction of the nearest herbalist, shouting over his shoulder at Deed, "Run the stall while I'm out!" Deed scarcely cared to reply, already enjoying the benefits of the stall stool, leaning back in it and watching for potential merchants and thieves... "Not that there's much difference between the two..." Deed thought aloud, and he stared into the snowy morn...the mist had mostly cleared, but this early in the morning, even the merchants wouldn't be out for a while longer, so Deed drifted back into his thought, thinking of what he'd do with his payment, and all the extra pay coming with it, he went over what he would say and do should he encounter a thief, and he rehearsed quickly rising to get to a secluded location so that he can urinate in peace when the time comes...however Deed is pulled from his thoughts by a merchant, waving a hand in front of his face. "Frozen solid...the fate of Argonians in Windhelm..." The Dunmer merchant spoke in a solemn tone, before Deed blinked and swatted her hand away "Can I help you, ma'am?" he grumbled, leaning forwards in his stool.

The Dark Elf didn't seem too surprised when Deed finally moved, she simply placed a piece of parchment on the table and took a step back.

Deed skimmed the parchment lazily, then looked up at the Dark Elf. "You know...a dark elf merchant...they could call you a Dunmerchant!" Deed smiled slyly as he said this, the Dark Elf however was unamused at best. "You know there's a serial killer running around Windhelm and I pray to the Eight Divines that you are the next victim." She stated, in a tone colder than the windchill and ancient permafrost of the city surrounding them.

Deed frowned. "Bad joke...right..." he cleared his throat and looked over the parchment once more, before reaching for a nearby sack labeled 'Dark Elf lady', slinging it onto the counter and holding his hand out for the septims. "547 septims, please..." Deed said in a polite tone.

The Dunmer scoffed at Deed, and placed her coin pouch on the counter....and then another...and another. The merchant slung the sack over her shoulder and went on her way, towards a stall not far from Deed's. "People here are exceedingly rude..."Deed spoke to himself, and crossed his legs in the proper manly fashion. "One bad joke and they hate you forever...mph."
 

Deed, feeling his urge to urinate suddenly bolster itself three fold, slammed a hand into his groin, and his eyes widened as he began to come to a realization, he could definitely not ignore this need. The Argonian crossed his legs and bit at his bottom lip with his reptilian teeth. He pushed a hand further against his crotch and slowly the need began to numb, and fade away. Deed sighed with relief, however he heard a hushed voice behind him. “Deed if you just Liz-jizzed all over that stool I am not paying you.” Deed heard the familiar call of the Breton, Adalad’s voice somehow managed to become even more grating to Deed’s modestly sized ear holes…

 

“I did not just ejaculate into the stool, Adalad, if you must worry your tiny head about what I am doing...I had an itch on my crotch.” Deed wasn't sure whether Adalad would pry more, but he got his answer when the Breton shooed him out of the stool, and the disgruntled Breton hunched over the stall counter once more.

 

Deed returned to his post leaned against the stall, now keeping a hand on his belt for some monicome of comfort for his pressing need. Deed let his thoughts wander, trying to find a memory in recent history that was dry. Deed rested his head against the stall, and shut his eyes, envisioning the moment he arrived in the Nordic province of Skyrim.

 

Lush trees and forest growth gradually reeled back and slowly gave way to the tundra plains and mountainous hills of the beautiful province...rich in culture and mystery, Skyrim is ripe for the adventurer looking to make some bacon, bring it home, and then eat copious amounts in one sitting when they feel ill or injured, septim seeking smugglers peddle Skooma in through the docks of the major cities, and every cave holds danger from an age long past. Deed began to recall why he even came to Skyrim to begin with.

 

As with many others, Deed planned to make a living off high adventure and action packed work as a mercenary...despite his apprentice level knowledge of fighting with a sword, and being inexperienced in the world around him beyond the basics of Skyrim, tall tales told to him on the wagon in, and knowing it was damned cold...Deed knew, for certain, this was the life for him. He smiled to himself, sure that fortune awaited him...surely...it was not far off.

 

Deed’s thoughts of the future and past kept him preoccupied and his need to pee seemingly faded entirely, so he relaxed a little and focused more on his job iinstead of his crotch, looking the part, and feeling it, Deed’s confidence as a caravan guard and sellsword grew, and he began to think more deeply about training and physical activities before being ripped from his mind, into reality.

 

Deed heard it before he felt it, a snowball smacked him right on the back of the head, hearing the clunk of steel as his helmet pushed up on his head and covered his eyes, Deed whipped around violently to search for his attacker, and spied Adalad, forming another snowball. “Hey! Imbecile! Are you hearing me?”

“What is it, Adalad?” Deed grumbled, adjusting his helmet back into place.

 

“I brought you a stamina elixir, so you don’t fall asleep like a drunken Orc after...whatever Orc holidays they have.” Adalad reached behind his back and removed a green bottle from his waist, it was perhaps a pint of herbal elixir, and Deed could smell how foul it was through the cold, and from 8 feet off. He grumbled swears under his breath and took the elixir from the Breton, uncorking it and taking a large drink from it. It tasted surprisingly sweet despite the smell and after the sweet taste faded it tasted of...fish?

 

Deed grimaced as he took the bottle from his mouth. “I wouldn't know the difference between this and some moon sugar in a dead fish, Adalad, who did you buy this from?” Deed looked the bottle futily over for some kind of writing or markings.

 

“I got it from the White Bile.”

 

Deed sighed. “Adalad...how can you possibly get that name wrong? Can you even read? I can see the sign from here, it says White Phial.” Deed sighed and took another sip, feeling the effects of the lime green liquid. He suddenly gained a burst of energy, which he balanced by tapping his foot in the snow. The Argonian placed his stamina potion in his satchel after re-corking it, and got busy doing nothing, but now he was more alert and aware of his surroundings if not himself. “That stuff sure kicks in fast...what is in that anyway? Aside from fish...obviously…” he looked down at his satchel, tempted to take another swig. “

“Hm...if I remember anything from that basic Alchemy lesson I got behind a seedy alley in Dawnstar...I’d reckon it probably has purple mountain flowers...some Silverside Perch...which would explain the fish taste...and one single bee.”

 

Deed blinked. “Just...one bee?” he cocked his head to the side in confusion, despite not actually looking at Adalad from his post. “Yup, just one.” The Breton replied, matter-of-factly.

 

Deed let the conversation drop, but picked up his stamina potion and took another drink.

 

A grumpy, old-looking Altmer approached the stall followed closely by a much younger looking Nord.

 

“Well? What are ya standing there gawkin’ at? Give me my goods so I can get out of the cold, fool!” the Altmer says, rudely. Adalad sighs, and hands the High Elf a large sack filled to the brim with what looks like Alchemy supplies. “This’ll be up to good use...carry this for me, Quietus, while I pay this frozen Breton.”

 

Adalad begins to say something but Deed zones out, paying more attention to the sudden and somewhat more intense need to urinate that has just reared its ugly head again. Deed sighs and adjusts his position, pushing his thigh inwards to put pressure on his crotch, and tapping his gloved finger against the now frigidly cold stall. Deed shivers feeling a chill run along his back. Not up, but down. Deed turns his head, getting a view of his shoulder and realizes that snow managed to get inside his cuirass, now it’s melted and is dampening his layered gambeson. Deed mutters angrily and folds his arms, huddling up to protect himself from the vicious snowfall and the now bitter cold windchill.

 

Several hours go by, merchants come and go, restocking their wares, and the city warms up and the citizens of Windhelm begin to go about their day. The marketplace fills up quickly, and is soon a bustling beacon of activity that reminds Deed of home, with all the inhabitants going about their day Deed finds it charming and maintains a smile for a short time as the sun shines overhead, and snowfall lessens, however one thing has increased, Deed’s modestly rising need to urinate. After finishing his stamina elixir over the course of an hour or so, Deed is feeling the long-term effects which unfortunately don’t include stamina or alertness.

 

Deed taps his foot in the snow, making a satisfying crunch with every tap, taking his mind off his persistent need to empty his bladder.

 

Deed crosses his legs at the knee, and clenches his thighs together, keeping a satisfactory amount of pressure on his groin. Deed clenches and unclenches his jaw, he has to go the rest of the day like this...and it’s all Adalad’s fault! Deed considers asking for the rest of his pay and getting out of Windhelm as soon as he can, right after a good long piss, and a hot meal. Maybe he could- Deed is rudely interrupted from his thoughts by a guard who happened to be passing by shoving his shoulder into Deed’s torso from behind.

 

Deed lets out a yelp of surprise and tumbles head first into the snow, overcome with both anger and embarrassment the young Argonian momentarily forgets his bladder, turning to face his unknown attacker, while spitting snow from his mouth, and forcing more white flakes out of his nostrils.

 

The guard laughs, and 2 other guards watching from afar find this to be a clever jest, and begin laughing as well. “What is your problem, warm-blood?! Watch where you step, I am not hard to see!” Deed takes a step forward, snow crunching underfoot, he places his hand on the hilt of his sword and hisses low at the guards, who seem to only laugh harder at Deed’s anger.

 

“Well, lizard, you walked into me.” The guard slyly remarks. “With your fat snout in the way, you couldn't see me! I should fine you for assault.” The guard persists, his voice dripping with mirth. Deed raises his brow, awestruck at the audacity of what is supposed to be the city’s protectors. Deed’s blood begins to boil, and he grips the hilt of his sword harder, preparing to unsheathe it and take the bait hook, line, and sinker.

 

However Adalad steps between the guard and the Argonian. “Oh would you look at the time, Deed! We need to deliver this shipment of sweetrolls to Old Lady Palmer…”Adalad steps closer to Deed and whispers in his ear, placing a hand over Deed’s sword arm and forcing the blade to stay in its scabbard. “They’re playing you my boy, just ignore them...pay the fine if you have to…” The guard laughs and drowns out Adalad’s whispers. “What, is that your lover, lizard? Ha! This city belongs to the Nords, and we prefer it stay full of strong Nord men! Not pretty pink, pants pissing pansies.” the background guards laugh at this, and one shouts “Good alliteration, Jalmesk!”

 

Adalad drags Deed back to the stall, and shoves him against his post. It’s at this moment Deed remembers his bodily needs, he lets out a quiet gasp and, under the guise of wiping snow off his armor, begins to ‘pat-hold’ himself, and bite his lower lip, crossing his legs at the knee once more and leaning his shoulder against the side of the stall, putting as much pressure on his crotch as he can, while being as discreet as he can manage.

 

“Deed!” Adalad says, placing a small sign on the desk of the stall. “Come on I’ve gotta do something. “Wait.” Deed interrupts. “You had a ‘we are closed’ sign this whole time and withheld this knowledge from me?!” Deed raises his voice in anger, nearly shouting.

 

“No.” Adalad says, pointing to a small piece of charcoal in his hand. “I just made one with some charcoal from the smelter pile.” Adalad gestures to the blacksmith’s equipment barely 30 feet off, where the Nord blacksmith from earlier that morning was hard at work using a grindstone to sharpen an iron dagger.

 

Deed's anger subsides, but he still holds contempt towards Adalad. “Tell me where we are going and what I am doing or I will cut and run right now. I have a place I need to run…” Deed trails off and bites his lip slightly.

 

Adalad, only paying half attention to the Argonian dismissively comments off-hand “The new Garnet Corner Club.” he states, incorrectly, and begins to walk on a snowy path towards the Grey Quarter. Deed hearing only the words ‘new’ and ‘club’ follows behind Adalad closely, speed-walking to catch up with him.

 

Deed rubs his thighs lightly, his lower torso has grown numb in anticipation of chamber pots in a new club of sorts for now Deed suffers in silence, following closely behind Adalad and almost passing him in his haste to relieve himself.

Edited by Duarg
Grammar, formatting issues. (see edit history)
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9 minutes ago, Enamour said:

Great continuation! Just a couple grammar and word usage things.

 

The Lady Palmer bit was a great reference. ?

Thank you, I've been having fun with the toybox of references and jokes available to any Bethesda title, and I'm going to start proof-reading for longer to catch the little things.

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  • 3 weeks later...

It was barely 5 minutes since they made off to the New Gnisis Corner Club, but to Deed it had felt like just under a month...they were approaching a run-down barely maintained abomination of wood and metal, it could only have looked worse if it were set on fire, and that might actually be an improvement...Deed didn’t care, however. Run-Down or not, it was a club! A tavern! It was holding sweet relief from within in the form of a copper pot. Deed and Adalad marched through the snow, Deed could hardly contain his predicament for much longer. Deed was disguising his urgent need by rubbing his hands as if for warmth directly in front of his crotch. Adalad didn’t seem to notice, or just didn’t care. “It’s quite a building...I wonder if it’s enchanted to make it not fall apart.” Adalad jested, crossing his arms as if he had made the world’s funniest joke.

 

Deed hurried passed Adalad, the Argonian’s tail whipping from side to side, slapping the Breton in the side and knocking him off-balance.

 

Deed threw open the shoddy wooden door and entered the small establishment, despite the ragged appearance it was surprisingly warm inside. A Dunmer man stood at the counter, feigning interest in a conversation with an Argonian male and an Argonian female who sat on stools at the bar. Deed approached the bar at a brisk pace and caught the attention of the barelf by slapping a hand against the counter. “I need a room. Here is the coin.” he dropped probably way too many septims onto the counter, he was now bobbing up and down in place, and had begun biting his lip hard, the dented scale almost puncturing under his teeth.

 

The Dark Elf blinked, looked the Argonian over and then put on an expression of concern. “Are you about to die?” he asked. “If you’re about to die, let me know, I don’t want to be surprised in 2 days time when I find a corpse in one of our rooms.”

 

Deed sighed and gave the man a look of pure desperation, his eyes pleading with the man. He had never felt so...weak.

 

“Please sir just tell me where the room is or there is going to be yellow snow before the day is even over!” he spoke in a voice just low enough for the barman to hear and swallowed hard, almost as if swallowing his pride.

 

“Alright just...eh...up the stairs and down the hall to the left we have the public chamberpot, alright? Jeez.” The dark elf broke away from the conversation and Deed hurried towards the stairs, he began to fly up the stairs his pace was so quick, but it took him only seconds to see this was a bad idea.

 

Deed let out a gasp as he felt it, his stream had begun. Deed shot his hands into his groin and whimpered, stopping halfway up the third flight of stairs he was so quick. Deed pushed his hands into his crotch with all his might, until it hurt. The stream had died along with any pride the Argonian had before, though he may be able to salvage some of it. He could feel it in his cloth undergarments, and the gambeson under his armor. Deed was lightly dampened, he could feel the warm wet fabric rubbing against his scales. Deed cursed low as he struggled to stand upright again. The pressure on his groin was so immense...it felt as if an ocean was pushing out of his crotch, trying to be free.

 

Deed’s groin then numbed over, and he slowly made his way up the stairs, bent down, hands buried in his lap.

 

Deed struggled up the stairs, determined to make it. His breath came in ragged gasps through his grit teeth. He bit his lip so hard it was bleeding, and the flesh under the scales rubbed raw.

 

As Deed cleared the last step, he chuckled. He laughed, surprised at his own abilities, he laughed a jolly laugh before he whimpered again and fell to his knees, as another spurt barreled past his defences. The stain growing wider along the unseen fabrics underneath his armor.

 

Deed struggled to his feet again and stumbled down the hall, he came upon a door with a small wooden sign next to it that said ‘Bless this Arse.’ Deed threw open the door and hurried into the stall, only to be met with a shriek!

 

Deed, caught off guard, let out his own yell, and felt as more warm urine seeped into his trousers, and he pressed against his crotch even harder, letting out a short whimper.

 

Inside the small room was a chamberpot, kept underneath a wooden box-like setup, with a hole in the middle so that waste could be disposed of. However at this time, it was being used. By a Dunmer woman, sat on the wooden throne and currently urinating into the pot, her pants around her ankles, and her legs now closed together to protect against Deed’s wandering gaze. She was aghast at Deed’s presence, and was using her hands as well to cover the front of her crotch. She stuttered for a moment before finally saying a coherent word. Her peeing had stopped. “Get out! Get out of here!” she commanded, gritting her teeth angrily at Deed.

 

Deed stuttered some apologies and exited the room swiftly, tail literally between his legs to help him hold.

 

Deed began to undo the knot on his belt, dropping to his knees and panting, he was at the end of his rope. It was coming time...time. Time! “That’s it…” Deed gasped under his breath, and raised one knee, so he was kneeling. “Akatosh...please...g-grant me...more...time!” Deed prayed to the dragon god of time, pleading with anyone he could think of to help him. His prayers may have been answered, as no sooner did Deed finish these words, he felt as though he could hold on...just a bit longer.

 

Deed gasped and rose to his feet, finally getting his belt off his waist and holding it in his hand, pressing it into his crotch.

 

The door opened and the Dunmer woman exited the room, avoiding eye contact with Deed as she stalked past him. Deed shot into the chamber pot’s chamber, throwing the door shut behind him. Deed had begun to fiddle with the topmost button on his pants when his borrowed time ran out.

 

As the last grain of sand fell in the hourglass, Deed started to pee. His stream slowly trickled out as he worked with his pants, Deed got his button undone and began to pull his pants down, but he had already felt the damage.

 

A warm sensation filled Deed’s lower body and a quiet hissing sound was heard, and a soft pattering of liquid on fabric. The warm liquid spread all over his crotch, underneath, lapping at the base of his rump. Urine had spread across the front of his gambeson, making it heavy with liquid. The flood filled his pant legs, spreading around the front and inner sections, warming the scales of his thighs as it progressed. But thankfully it stopped near his knees as Deed wrenched his pants down, and allowed himself the freedom to pee into the pot. The liquid caught in his clothes ran down his legs and continued to warm his calves, seepign into his boots. A puddle formed unerneath him, and the previously lightly colored wood was darkened heavily. A loud splash and liquid hitting liquid was heard, Deed gasped, groaned, moaned even with relief. His knees felt weak as his overdue balance was finally payed. Deed almost dropped to his knees he was overwhelmed with utter euphoria and he now knew the true meaning of bliss. Bliss was in the piss.

 

Deed breathed heavily, and continued to urinate into the pot for a full 2 minutes. Deed’s bladder muscles ached...in his overwhelming sensation of pleasure he still had the heated embarrassment in the back of his mind. He has still pissed his pants, and thoroughly. As Deed shook the last drops from his member, and climbed out of his pants to inspect the damage, he sat on the wooden seat of the chamber pot, and rested his arms on his knees. To catch his breath. Deed was tired...so very tired. Deed leaned back against the wooden wall of the restroom, and shut his eyes. Deed let out a sigh before picking up his pants, gathering his shattered pride and exiting the restroom to find the room he would spend the night in, leaving behind the puddle as evidence, as it slowly turned cold and soaked into the wood.

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