Destri was already heading past Autumnshade Clearing on horseback after his admirable hunting affair; He'd managed to skin a couple of foxes and a sabre-cat; Which was rather unimpressive compared to the slaughter of the small wolf cavern he’d found last Middas.
Destri wasn’t the kind of Redguard to be put off from something, though – even if they had dire consequences the last time around; It made him remember (and hurriedly try to forget) the time he’d drunkenly almost mounted the cow near Amren’s in Whiterun after having one too many in the Bannered Mare; He’d have to contact Hjor again sometime soon – share some mead, perhaps teach him some new tricks with that old crossbow of his.
He was just at the Riften Gates when a guard promptly stopped him on the spot.
“You want to get in? Cough up, Redguard.” The gate guardsmen proceeded to slowly draw his sword from it’s sheath as Destri squinted at him with one eye whilst intermittently fixating on the guard’s sword arm. He could see the slightest muscle twitch under the guard’s glove as he clenched his sword hilt harder by the second.
Destri wasn’t quite sure if it was the casual lack of respect for him (he was the most well known hunter in the Rift) or the fact that the guard actually expected him to ‘cough up’ his hard-earned septims that he’d saved up from his last few hunted pelts - just to enter the city. Hadn’t he just left this morning, not even a couple of hours ago? ‘This guy can’t even be a real guard, surely...’ Destri thought.
“Don’t want in eh? Have a nice walk to the next city!” The guard spat.
That was it; the Redguard snapped.
Destri, with all the speed he could muster, in one swift motion swung his battleaxe off his back and shoved the guard up the gates with the two-handed shaft wedged firmly under his chin.
“You’re going to let me in, or you’re going to make me regret not sharpening my axe this morning, friend…”
The guard didn’t say anything, just squirmed under the axe and quickly fumbled for the gate key. After much awkward rattling of keys, he’d hurriedly opened the gate, with a quick, nervous twitch of a glance over his shoulder at the Redguard.
* * *
Destri strolled in, surprised to see Hjor stood there, mace on hip, crossbow on his back.
“Going hunting, Hjor? Might want ta’ leave that mace indoors – unless you’re hunting those bears in Honeystrand Cave…” Destri chuckled.
“Just tryna’ make a bit o’ coin, lad – it’s hard to come by, especially in the Rift….all these damnable bandits and thieves uprootin’ the place…” Destri heard the subtlety of anger and resentment in Hjor’s voice as he said ‘damnable bandits’.
“Well, if you can’t beat ‘em…join ‘em!” Destri joked.
One overly-stern look from Hjor told him all he needed.
“We were running buddies once, D… once. And that didn’t bloody work out too well, did it?” Hjor spat it like venom.
“Look, Delvin didn’t know those cutpurses were waiting for us…” Destri began to say.
“I lost my entire cut from tha’ job!” Hjor interrupted. “What were we bloody thinking, taking tha’ job from Delvin anyway? Stealing from Maven? Are you mad? That woman is unbridled fury!” Hjor was getting redder in the face by the second. It was almost as crimson as the dried deer blood on his mace by his hip.
“It’s almost a good thing we ran into those cutpurses, really – Maven doesn’t know it was us…they weren’t SENT from her.” Destri replied, saying almost anything to stop the spew that was now foaming at the sides of Hjor’s bristled lips.
“Well…who then?” Hjor said deeply, evidently trying his best to hold in his fear.
But Destri wasn’t the kind of Redguard to be put off from something, though – even if they had dire consequences the last time around.
