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Sun’s Height the 5th
After separating from Sagax, Tsleeixth didn’t much to help the besieged city. Being wounded as he was he couldn’t help with the more physical tasks and, as such, he was relegated to a self-imposed patrol of the city to try and see if any of the Argonian population was continuing to cause troubles for the city's defenders.
Yet it seemed that the Pakseech’s words had reached the ears of most of the Saxhleel population of Windhelm, with the Argonian spellsword running only into the occasional troublemaker which he was able to handle -relatively- easily. As such, the Argonian mercenary went to bed in his room in Candleheart hall with a relatively -when one takes into account the fact that they were trapped in a besieged city- calm mind, relieved by the fact that the situation of the Argonian riot had been averted before more damage had been done. With that, the Argonian soon settled in the rented bed, waiting for sleep to come to him after the exhausting events of the day yet once it did the only thing he found in his sleep were more of the same dreams he had experience the night before his encounter with the Pakseech.
Sun’s Height the 6th
When morning came the next day, Tsleeixth woke up with a groan. Propping himself upwards with his good hand, rubbing his face afterwards to stave off the last remnants of his dream“The same dream again, wonder how long they’ll last” He said with a heavy sigh. It was evident that the Argonian hadn’t had a good night of sleep, plagued by the dreams of the Kamals invading Black Marsh a problem that was only worsened by the constant sound made by the siege weapons that the Kamal had brought to breach Windhelm’s sturdy walls.
Standing up and dressing himself, the Argonian went by what had become his daily routine in his current situation, that is to say that he offered what little help he could in his current situation, until he overheard something that made him freeze on the spot. The invaders from Akaviri had challenged the Jarl of Windhelm to single combat. Blinking in confusion for a few seconds, he approached the man whom he had heard saying the shocking news “Is it true what you say? The Kamals challenged the Jarl to single combat?” Asked the shocked Argonian.
“‘Tis true, the Demons released one of their prisoners back to the city, apparently he came with a scroll that issued the challenge to the Jarl”
Tsleeixth nodded, shocked by the news “Thanks for answering me” He mumbled before he hurried away back to Candleheart Hall. Something didn’t sit right with him, he had seen the might of the Kamal’s at the battle of the docks and they also had siege weaponry...so why bother with issuing a challenge to the Jarl of Windhelm? Slaves? Demoralizing tactics? Hoping to minimize damage to the city in an effort to occupy it with more ease? These and thousands of other questions raced inside Tsleeixth’s mind as he made hi way towards the inn, only to stop when he saw Jarl Lodvemar, his son not too far from him, going towards the gate with a guard escort.
Looking around, Tsleeixth saw the various commanders of the various forces that protected the city, briefly spotting Ashav amidst them, and followed the group until he found himself inside the wall, looking as Lodvemar went to face the Kamal’s champion. Tsleeixth winced as he saw the Kamal pulling out his weapons, clutching the shoulder of his broken arm; he had first-hand experience with the strength that the Kamal possessed and could only imagine it’s devastating effects when used in conjunction with weapons such as the warhammers that the Kamal had chosen for the duel.
As such, the result of the duel didn’t surprise the Argonian spellsword at all. For while Lodvemar had put a valiant fight, a Kamal -specially one who had enchanted weapons- was superior to one enemy combatant something that Tsleeixth had learned the hard way. He looked as the Kamal backed away back to his kin, but was startled when he heard the Jarl’s son screaming. He opened his mouth in astonishment when the kid demanded that someone go avenge his father, his astonishment only growing when some of the guards, a hundred or so, complied with the orders of the lad.
What happened next seemed like a blur to the Argonian’s eyes. The vengeful guards opened the gates and charged outside, something that the Kamals seemed to have been expecting for they launched some sort of projectile that froze the controls of the gate, killing those who were trying to operate them. ”So that’s why they issued the challenged, they wanted us to make a mistake like this one.” Mused the Argonian spellsword bitterly. He heard Ashav giving his orders along with other commanders but, eventually, it was Ashav the one whom everyone seemed to listen to.
When Ashav gave the order to scatter it came as no surprise, with the gates wide open and with no possibility of closing them it was only a matter of time for Windhelm to come under total Kamal control. He soon made his way to Candleheart Hall, quickly retrieving his things before he made his way towards Leif’s house; he breathed a sigh of relief once the last member of their group, a Nord that he had never seen before, entered the house and listened as the man revealed the existence of tunnels leading outside of the city, giving them a chance to escape from the Kamals.
The hours passed as Ashav and the different commanders coordinated the escape from the doomed city and, by afternoon, it seemed that everything was set up for their escape from Windhelm. He made his way towards one of the wells and, with the help of some of the other people escaping, he managed to descend to the tunnels underneath the city. As he walked through the maze that ran underneath the city, a feeling of failure slowly sunk into Tsleeixth’s mind ”I guess this is it, no matter how much we sacrificed, how much we fought, in the end it was all for naught.” He thought bitterly, letting out a heavy sigh as they followed the lead of the mysterious Nord man that he had seen at Leif’s house.
Absorbed in his thoughts as he was, Tsleeixth didn’t hear the screams of the people behind him as the unstable plank bridge began falling apart, sending many to an early grave as they fell into the bottomless pit. Instincts kicked in as he grabbed to one of the planks with his good arm ”Heh, guess this is my end.” He thought, a bitter chuckle escaping from his lips as he closed his eyes, waiting for the plan to finally fall and put an end to his existence. Except that it would seem that his end hadn’t come yet, for Tsleeixth soon felt someone grabbing his arms “Come brother, hold on.” He heard the old Pakseech said and, soon enough, felt another hand grabbing him by the other shoulder; he was soon pulled upwards by the Pakseech and another Argonian.
Panting slightly, Tsleeixth felt his lips curling upwards “My thanks Pakseech, you as well brother” Said the spellsword, receiving a smile and a pat in the shoulder from the Pakseech in return and a silent nod from the other Argonian. Afterwards, Tsleeixth fell in with the small group of Argonians accompanying the elder, five or so without counting him and the Pakseech himself. The remaining trek was uneventful, Tsleeixth still absorbed in his thoughts, until they surface outside of the city walls, straight into what had become a Kamal outpost. ”Well, seems fate is not on our side today.” He thought wearily, a soft sigh escaping from his lips. The wait for them to try and escape felt unbearably slow, and many times Tsleeixth felt like bolting away with no care for the fate of the 50 or so people that would suffer the consequences, part of him wondered why he thought like that, was it perhaps the presence of the Kamal? Or perhaps the fall of the city had set him on edge more than he had thought? He pondered on this questions, fully aware that he normally never thought of doing something like that.
Regardless, time went by and eventually the group tried to sneak away from the camp something that was bound for failure when one takes into consideration the number of people. He heard Ashav screaming for everyone to run to the forest, and order that he promptly followed; shame burned within him as he ignored the screams of those that were cut by the Kamal and their war-beasts as he ran to save his own skin, part of his mind telling him to at least die with some honor, taking as many Kamals as he could, while the other part told him to keep running and to never look back until he was safe. He eventually regrouped with the other survivors, amongst which was the Pakseech and about half of the group of Argonians that had been with him, and made the trek with them towards Nightgate Inn, where he made little save for drinking slightly and doing his best to ignore most of the survivors from Windhelm, too ashamed to talk to any of them after having ran away as other died around him.
As such, the trek towards Dawnstar came as a relief, but Tsleeixth was surprised to see that the Pakseech and the surviving Argonians would be travelling with them towards Dawnstar “From there we are going to continue towards Black Marsh brother, the Hist still has need of us.” Said the elder when Tsleeixth questioned him on why they were going to Dawnstar.
Sun’s Height the 10th
When they finally arrived in Dawnstar, late on the day, Tsleeixth was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. The siege of Windhelm, and the subsequent escape from the city, had taken their toll on the Argonian spellsword. Turnign to look at the Pakseech, the spellsword motioned towards the Inn with his good hand “Are you staying for the night?” He asked the older Argonian curiously.
“Nay, we are continuing onwards towards the Cyrodiil border and then onwards towards Black Marsh.” Said the old Saxhleel “You are free to join us if you wish brother.” Offered the Pakseech, the corner of his lips curling upwards in the equivalent of a smile.
Tsleeixth was silent for a few seconds, considering the offer that was given to him “I am honored that you’d offer me this opportunity Pakseech.” He said finally, letting out a sigh “But my place is here I am afraid, I have a responsibility with these people. they are my comrades, and some I would call friends, and I won’t leave them, I hope you understand.” He said finally.
“Yes, I do understand brother, may you be safe in your journey and future endeavors.” Said the old Saxhleel, offering one last smile to Tsleeixth before he and his group continued on their travel “And you as well Pakseech, may you reach Black Marsh safely.” Said the spellsword before the group of Argonians was away from hearing range. He stayed outside for a while, looking as the group got further and further away, but eventually turned around and entered the inn and, taking a seat for himself, ordered a bottle for something to drink, hoping to chase away the memories of the siege even if only temporarily.