Unmatched Baggage (Kazahan)

[Calloway Sharr]

Calloway Sharr fancied himself the greatest tailor in all of Skyrim, but in that moment, he challenged for the title of greatest sprinter. His light boots flew high as he ran, needing no second bidding to flee. Wasn't it always the way? Talk about trolls and danger shows up. Every damn time.

The slender Khajiit's cape flew behind him, flapping gloriously in the wind as he spun his carpetbag around front, and dug into it. Surely he had a stamina potion in there, somewhere, he imagined, though his paw halted as it felt something slender and hard. Feet still churning at the earth, Calloway smiled as he withdrew a crossbow, complete with armed bolt.

[Kazahan]

"Don't let them get away!"

The white landscape was quiet, save for the echoing shouts and calls of the fur clad humans chasing the two Khajiit, and the muffled sounds of their boots; the snow seemed to dampen all sound and brighten all light, causing Kazahan to squint into the glare. An arrow whistled by, too far off any mark to be dangerous.

Finally, Fort Dunstad became visible just past the rise, and the mountains rose majestically on either side, and a banner depicting a stylized bear flapped in the wind.

At its base was a dead Stormcloak soldier.

He was too far away to be able to tell, but it seemed the battle for the Fort was still raging between a ragged group of bandits and an equally battered small group of Stormcloaks; the dead of both sides lay around the archway and ostensibly littered the courtyards of the fort itself.

Kazahan skidded to a stop, his breath coming out in white foggy gusts. A quick look back showed the bandits were still doggedly chasing them, but a gap had been made that would be close entirely too quickly. Kazahan glanced at Sharr, before giving both their pursuers and the fighters ahead a careful, judging eye. With a gesture on his part, he sprinted into the last dregs of the forest and crouched in the shade of a tree, leaning against it and pulling out his bow.

"Let us hope the easy taking of that Fort will cause them to forget about us," he said, not at all perturbed by the thought of leaving the Stormcloaks or any people within to their deaths.

[Calloway Sharr]

The troubles at the fort had not been lost upon Calloway, either, and he fell to one knee, sliding into place beside Kazahan, allowing the snow to protect his trousers from the grievous injury of a grass stain. Paws ready on his crossbow, the tailor displayed a change of character he had hoped not to in the presence of a stranger. Even if Kazahan was his bodyguard, there were things which Calloway did not want him to know, but the present situation overruled his desires.

Face hard, the slender Khajiit brought his crossbow up to his shoulder and sighted himself on the first of the advancing bandits. "If we take them down, we can assist the fort in their time of need, which will make the soldiers there obligated to help us," he stated, his voice cold.

Without another word, he pulled the trigger on his crossbow, and his first bolt slammed home through the left eye of one of the men, snapping his head back and dropping him instantly. Calloway had not even waited for impact to lower his weapon and begin to reload, his toes pressing down on the iron loop at its front as he drew back the bowstring with both paws. "Aim well. Damaged gear fetches a lower price with traders, after all," he laughed.

[Kazahan]

Kazahan stared intently as the bandits smoothly moved into the forest on the opposite side of the road, seeking the shelter of the trees.

"Even now you make things difficult for Khajiit," Kazahan grunted. "They are Stormcloaks. They will help or hinder us as suits their mood, regardless of our actions!"

An arrow whistled by, throwing up a fine dust of snow when it hit the ground behind them. More arrows joined them.

"Stay hidden, for Azurah's sake," he hissed, drawing his bow and aiming for one of the bandits down in the fort. A deep breath, a draw, and a quick drawing motion brought an arrow down into a Stormcloak's knee. His cry alerted his companions, who looked around wildly for the source of the shot, and Kazahan crouched low, hoping that the distraction would bring some attention off them and onto the fort, which despite the sudden casualty seemed to still be in the balance between the Stormcloaks and the rogues who fought them.

Indeed, the steady whistle of arrows stopped for a moment, though if that were due to the bandits finally noting the Fort and its spoils in easy reach, or due to a plan that would cause Kazahan to fight and run for his life once more, remained to be seen.