Lordt, The Skyrim Chronicles. “I Know That Shape”

I’d come through the back door of the East Empire Trading Company Warehouse. That is not a euphemism.

For once I’d been quiet. Lucien Lachance, however, had other ideas.

After entering through the grotto and dispatching a few paltry spiders, Lachance and I “chanced” upon a secret warehouse choc-full of chests and various other crates and wares. I had hoped for some cigars, but it was not to be.

Needless to say I took a moment to examine each chest thoroughly as Lachance proceeded to ask me for the fiftieth time if I’d heard the tale of Mathieu Bellamont.

As it happens, I had.

Walking became difficult as my pockets began to bulge with coin and gems recently acquired from said chests. I had considered putting some of the coins back to aid my stealth…and that’s when I woke up.

~

The East Empire Trading Company’s warehouse was decidedly quiet, and I wondered if we were about to be ambushed, so I took things slow.

Lanchance on the other hand strode right on out into the open announcing clearly that he “Lived again”.

Seconds later, steel was drawn and what had so far been a smooth operation turned into a somewhat boring, yet familiar situation. Namely one in which Lachance became riddled with arrows and I employed my best Linford Christie impersonation.

As I burst through the main doors of the warehouse onto the decking of the Solitude docks a character I had come to know as Deeja blocked my way.

No questions asked I shot her in the knee and ran past as if my life depended on it. As it happened, it did.

I was mildly miffed as I sprinted due to a few coins spilling across the decking. I skidded to a stop to collect them up but was nearly pinned to the spot by bow fire.

Deeja had regained herself and made her way towards me. Soiling myself I turned and ran again as a hail of arrows dropped out of the sky towards me.

Without thought I executed a perfect swan dive into the water and let my momentum and angle take me down. I heard the muffled impact arrows as they struck the water around me, but I was safe, though I couldn’t see a thing.

BUMP.

I’d hit the bottom of the riverbed.

Or had I?

I know that shape…I thought to myself.

As it turned out, my “Lewt-dar” was obviously turned up to 11 as I ran my fingers across the familiar shape and texture of an olde oaken chest.

What luck.

Despite running short on breath I prized the lid open and retrieved a tidy sum from within before fucking off up the other side of the river bank.

Next time, though, I’ll wear a less tight fitting codpiece.

~Lordt