[Aqua-chan]

Dwells-In-Thick-Marsh’s eyes flickered back and forth as he trudged along the lighthouse’s stairwell. Wooden planks creaked beneath the Argonians clawed feet despite his careful steps, but it would have been more of a concern if his was an actual mission rather than just waiting about doing nothing.

Seyda Neen was a quaint little community on the ocean, more for the purpose of being a rest stop for ships as apposed to being a major trade port. This is why the thieves stationed in the little village were easily noticed by the few residents of the place, and the townsfolk were plainly resentful to having a criminal syndicate stationed in their farmland. Besides a short visit to a Comonna Tong facility once, Dwells-In-Thick-Marsh had never before been in such an openly hostile environment.

Nightfall signaled the Argonian to his shift on the lighthouse. The furious glow from the controlled flame on top of the massive stone structure practically made the area around it seem like it was daylight. The reptilian creature could already see his watch partner up on the top level and was gladdened to see that it was a friend and not that idiot Breton that he always seemed to be paired up with.

This man, whose name was Alakkar, was quite relaxed with eyes closed and resting against the wall of the tower. Heat from the enormous fire warmed him from behind while the sound of the sea soothed him to a near-sleep. If the Redguard was troubled with his duties he didn’t show it, seeing as how little focused he was on harboring ships that were racing in to dock before it became too dark to see. Dwells-In-Thick-Marsh could hardly blame the man since it had been days before anything even remotely interesting had happened. No Imperialist ships had come through the region since they'd arrived - only cargo ships from Vivec and Ebonheart to other cities along the coast. Absolutely nothing else.

“Evenin’, Thick. How’s the mud of this dump treatin’ you?”

The Argonian joined his partner, sitting cross-legged on the elevated platform and fidgeting with his claws. His name among his brethren had become shortened for convenience, and he was also quite sure there was some sort of innuendo of a questionable nature attached to it, though he didn’t bother with it any. “It’s quiet here. It reminds me of the home I left behind.”

Alakkar chewed the end of a reed, his head back against the rock barrier he was rested on. “Too quiet for me, really. I prefer the city and all of it’s activity.”

“You mean you prefer the odds of getting better pickings off commoners.”

“Heh. That, too.” He paused for a moment, grin seemingly deteriorating into a frown of aggravation at the passing events. “Three days on a boat down here to a city in a swamp, looking for a prisoner ship all because some anonymous clergyman imagined it would be here. A complete waste of my skills and time. What was Helende thinking, sending us down here?”

The Argonian held more patience than his counterpart and sided with his instructor. “Everyone knows Big Helende trains the best cut purses and sneaks. It was only natural for Habasi to ask for her best.”

“Still, what I wouldn’t do to be back in Sadrith Mora right now, man, oh, man.”

“Well, if these captives do have any kind of involvement with the Nerevarine prophecy they should be released...”

“You believe all that garbage about Nerevar’s incarnate? I never would have pinned you to be a fairy tale dreamer, Thick.”

“Mortals can not live without hope. We need the Incarnate to fend off Dagoth Ur. It would be a despairing world if we only took in the hard truths of reality.”

“It’s also not worth the trouble of investing hope into an idea that was made up in the back of the mind of some fanatic cultist.”

“Hmm. Well, we have different views, you and I,” the man said slowly. There was no reason to argue with Alakkar because for all they knew he was right. Regardless, there was something nagging at the Argonian to remain loyal to his mission, if nothing else. Still, Alakkar wouldn’t let the topic go.

“Well, look at the facts, Thick. The Temple’s all against it, the Imperial Cult says it’s all a bunch of hoo-hah, and even the Legion has gone on campaigns to fight off radicals who’ve gone nuts.”

“You’re thinking of the Sixth House cultists. The Nerevarine supporters are the Ashlander tribes.”

“Whatever. But, c'mon. Even the Dunmers' own gods deny it being possible. So, why do you, as an outlander with no loyalty tied to this place, say it’s-“

“Hold!” the Argonian snapped, but Alakkar didn’t even flinch, “Do you see that out there?”

The Redguard opened his eyes and glanced back and forth between his friend's pointed claw and the ocean. The humanoids glossy black eyes were fixed intently out to sea where a tiny bundle of lights glinted off in the distance. It was only a time before he stated what discredited Alakkars earlier statements. “Imperialists. That’s our ship.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. The priest’s hallucinations were right after all.”

“Go inform the others at the trade house. We need to be ready as soon as that thing docks!” the Argonian barked automatically, too late to realize that his light-footed companion had already gotten down the first flight of the stairwell at a frightening speed.

Again, Dwells-In-Thick-Marsh cast a glare at the oncoming collection of lights. He could tell from the shape of the ship’s silhouette that it was definitely Imperial in nature, and from the gut feeling in his stomach he knew it was the one they were destined to infiltrate. There was some one important on that ship - two some ones important, actually, - and Dwells-In-Thick-Marsh, loyal thief to his guild and seasoned warrior, had a very bad feeling.