Jeerai-Ru or Creeps-in-Darkness?

The weather was never nice in Windhelm. Flecks of snow blew on the harsh wind over the bay, piling up in small drifts on the stone docks and pounding against the scales of the workers. Jeerai-Ru cursed his decision to come here from Black Marsh every day, when he even had time. The Shatter-Shield family kept strong pressure on the dock workers to keep working every single moment that they were awake, every single day. There were times, however, that it was good that Nords couldn’t tell Argonians apart very well. After a busy loading or unloading, it was easy to slip away into town and carefully relieve someone of a valuable object. This is when Jeerai-Ru was no more; he was then Creeps-in-Darkness, a name he had invented to snap at the conventions of Cyrodiil and Skyrim. Although he had come to Windhelm and gotten a legitimate job, he had always had another plan to reinvent himself. The first step was to get out of his ragged woolen clothes, and this was easy. One of the first days he had come here, he had found a pair of merchant’s clothes and boots with shiny button clasps along the side. It was perfect. He tried them on briefly, looking himself over and savouring the warmth that actual boots afforded. It wouldn’t be long before he didn’t have to wear strips of wool wrapped around his feet for what little warmth that offered. The clothes fit surprisingly well, although he was not too shocked because he was not a particularly large male. Next, he needed a weapon.
It was not hard at all to get ideas where to find a dagger. The guards that patrolled the docks constantly clattered as their bags shuffled around; loose gold, small weapons, and arrows for emergencies that couldn’t be handled with a blade or mace all being tossed around carelessly. The one that walked past the door to the East Empire Company’s office wouldn’t even miss his steel dagger and extra money until late at night. By then, Jeerai-Ru planned on having disappeared quietly and briefly, just to clear any suspicions about him. He had already done some odd jobs for the dock workers and men who worked in the offices for extra gold and arranged for Stands-in-Shallows to tell anyone who asked that he had been in Solitude since yesterday. It was now time to arrange for a boat. Luckily, there was always a cheerful sailor around at any dock ready to ferry travellers along the coast for extra money when they weren’t helping with small cargo. He didn’t argue at all when Jeerai-Ru dropped a few more gold coins in his hand with a single clawed finger held against his scaly lips. This was just the beginning of an interesting journey, but it set the course without much deviation. Jeerai-Ru was, at heart and by talent, a thief with a dagger at his hip and a forked tongue coated in quicksilver.


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