The weight of the Gold felt good in his clawed hands. The weight of his duty to his people was a tad less satisfying, though no less important. In fact, much more so in Daixanos' way of thinking. "No, I am not going southwards." Dax replied to Jod as they walked toward Aschev together. "And I do not know why such a journey is perilous. But I will..." His words were ominous and hinting, and the Argonian gave a nod to Aschev when he ran into him. The recruiter offered him a drink and congratulations. "The jarl said these lowlifes have been troubling his hold for weeks, and it was no small task destroying them for one man. You are someone who gets things done, and I could use someone like you in my company." Dax nodded his thanks, and followed him to get that beverage. "We are mercenaries, and most of us were sent to Winterhold. There isn't much to do right now, but after I get you a drink, why don't you sort out the business with the refugees and the con artist? The jarl also pays for that." the Redguard continued. "I intend to." Dax replied curtly. 

Within the hour, Dax found out all he needed about the refugees and their predicament, so far as rumors were concerned. The location of the Trawl was not up for debate, nor was the 'Seal Captain' that commanded it, if it could be called such a thing for a dingy such as that. He only drank a small bit, and told Aschev that he would meet him tomorrow at the latest. The Argonian then made his way towards the docks, turning left past the Main Thoroughfaire, and right until the Northstar Port was visible. Down below, a shady looking human stood before a dozen of his Hist brethren, speaking inaudibly for Dax at such a distance. In his heart, he knew that the rumors of this man were true. Scamming Argonian's bound for Blackmarsh, and leaving them stranded in Morrowind to be picked up by Dunmer slavers! A rage began to build up inside of Dax, and he even took out his bow. 

He did not retrieve an arrow however, and simply gripped the curved shaft of the weapon. He let out a hissing breath, and put the weapon back in place, before crossing his muscled arms. He was not used to settlements for long lengths of time, preferring the wilderness. He would much rather shoot the man from afar and go about his business, but Dawnstar had laws. His mind began to whirl with possibilities. He needed proof to show the Jarl, and the man and his crew seemed quite distracted at the current moment. He moved by instinct, going back the way he came, past the Barracks and The White Hall. The hunter traveled 'round the settlement as quickly as he could, until he made it to the otherside of the small bay without eyes upon him. He lay his weapons down behind the furthest house, between two large rocks. He walked into plain sight of the eastern section of town, but only one man was around and he was not looking his way, walking further south. Dax made for the water.

He gave a guttural noise, half growl and half hiss, as he stepped into the frigid waters slowly but surely. Halfway in, he jerked at how cold it was. The freezing liquid filling his every pore and causing his breathing to come out sporadically. [i]My brethren need me![/i] He hissed louder, and forced himself to submerge into the water, floating for a few seconds before he felt like his muscles would answer his call to move. He slinked under the waves like an ancient serpent of lore, his tail whipping up before disappearing beneath the waters. The end of the appendage had already grown back, though it was tender and odd feeling in the water. Within less than a minute, he found himself before the Trawler boat. He felt his claws run along his scaled palms, and then dug them into the creases of the wood, climbing up upon the opposite side of the boat, away from the Captain and his victims. 

Both hands had fingers gripping the railing, and he paused to hear any kind of commotion. Seconds passed, and he heard nothing. No! There were footsteps. They were upon the opposite end of the boat, moving across but not closer to Dax. He waited again, until the footsteps halted. With a hiss, the reptilian hunter slipped aboard. To his left was the entrance to the cabin before him, but to his right were stairs. He needed to choose where to go. He had one shot at this. [i]Stairs[/i], he heard from the back of his mind. He hoped it was the Hist giving him guidance. He made his way towards the entrance, and headed downstairs, wincing at every small creak at every other step. "Oi, Jothen. That you?" one uncultured voice called up. Dax froze, and clenched his teeth. He decided to keep walking almost immediately. If he froze for long, or fled, they would know. 

Down below, an Imperial(?) man wearing a winter vest over a sailors shirt sat over a table, and casually looked up, before jerking upwards at the sight of Dax. "What are you doing down here!?" he asked loudly, before seeming to catch himself. He stood up from his desk, and turned the papers he had been reading upside down. "If you're looking for passage, the Captain-" Dax's left hook struck him across the jaw, and his right haymaker sent the man falling, unconscious. Dax caught his shirt before he could hit the ground, and then carried the man's limp form over to a pile of barrel's across the small room. He placed the body behind them, and slipped the side barrels to cover up any visibility of the sleeping sailor. This was nasty business indeed. He was no murderer, even if he felt like taking up the mantle at the moment. But knocking a man out was only a minor offense, that could be perhaps justified later. If not, he could always slip back into the tundra. 

"What do we have here?" he whispered to himself, taking the papers that the man had been riffling through. Dax's teeth shined in the torchlight when he smiled. "Yesss." The manifest and travel history! The Hist truly watched over him, and as he read further, he realized it watched over all Argonians. Or at least, the ones outside. He rolled the papers up, and then placed them within his maw, making his way up the stairs and off the boat as quickly as he could, keeping his head above water and keeping the papers in tact. He swam to the opposite shore and gathered his equipment, and before an hour was done, the Jarl had given him leave to go back and confront this 'Seal Captain,' and to have guards on stand by if need be. Dax thanked the Jarl for letting him deal with this on his own, and left the White Hall. 

He strode toward the Trawler and the liar of a Captain as only he could. After surviving what Dax had, one walked with a certain confidence and force of spirit, especially when riled to anger. He had spent years at war, having killed Dunmer, Sabrecats, Bears, Elk, a Giant (with the aid of Stormcloaks), a Troll, and various bandits. Thinking on it now, he supposed the number of foes added up over the years. [i]I might be getting old[/i], he thought to himself. His fellow Argonian's sensed his presense too. Some were moss green, with lines as black as the bottom of a swamp. Others had color similar to Dax's own blooded skin. Some had frills, some had horns, a few had both. One Argonian female clutched a small hatchling at her feet. It mattered little. These were his people. 

"Where is this ship bound?" Dax asked, his voice guttural and slipping out of his throat like most Argonians, albeit a bit deeper than many. The Captain was human, but Dax did not know nor care what province he hailed from. Brown hair and weathered skin. Could be from anywhere. As far as he was concerned, this man was from Oblivion. "For Blackmarsh. Get in line, sir. As you can see, many need passage and there is only room for so many." the Captain said. Dax's tail thumped against the ground, and he held back a grimace from how tender it still was. It caught the attention of all around him, however. He took another step forward, invading the Captain's space and causing him to back up a step. "Is it?" he hissed. "And I would think you would take all the passengers you could. It would fetch a higher price." 

The Captain eyed him, and recognition dawned in his eyes. He still played the part of innocence. "What? Are you mad?" he asked, trying to seem incredulous. Dax turned to his brethren. "Hist Kin, this man here is nothing but a theif and a liar. No, worse. A [b]slaver[/b]. He is one of those who would put us in chains like our ancestors. I have discovered that, after you have been in refugee camps, living out in the cold, that he takes your hard earned money, and then takes another tidy profit from your freedom and lives!" 
"You!" the Captain said, drawing a dagger. He made no move yet, though. "Get out! I'll not have some filthy lizard question my..." 

His eyes widened when he realized he had just insulted all of his witnesses. Some of the Argonian's hissed angrily at him, and the others watched Dax curiously. With broad shoulders and an elongated neck, he loomed over this 'Seal Captain.' "Show your true colors." Dax said, deathly calm. "Lie to them. Either way, be forewarned...We are the children of the Hist. We are the breakers of chains. We are the ones who besieged hell itself. And even if you did not fall today, I promise that a denizen of Blackmarsh would be your undoing."  

The Captain looked around as the other Argonians stepped forward. They were not threatening, and to any man who thought of it rationally, a riled mob did not necessarily mean violence. But this was out of his expectations, and therefore, out of his rational thought. He slashed at Dax with his dagger, hoping to make the Argonian back up so he could flee upon his ship. Daixanos blocked the man's arm with a burly scaled forearm, and decked him across the face. The dagger fell to the ground, and Dax lifted the man up bu his shirt collar. "However..." Dax continued. "I will save my future brethren the trouble, and end your mischief now." Within the next hour, the corrupt Captain had been taken away by the guard, and Dax sought out Aschev once more. That was over quicker than he had hoped.