It was cool outside, the sun was up shining on the mostly frozen ground as she stood looking towards Whiterun. A butterfly with orange wings flew by in front of her face bringing her back to reality. She put a clawed hands against the dagger holstered against her hip as she turned back to the caravan.
"Sk'Raazda, we should keep moving to get there before dark." The elder said, his accent thick and rasping. She nodded and followed the group carrying a tent and goods on her back; the cooking pots clinking against each other on her back. Their progress average as they walked together along the trail to their goal. The climate getting colder, light snow beginning to fall as they grew closer.
Eventually, they reached Whiterun, setting up their meager camp outside the city. They started the fire and set up the goods for display; the elder sitting calmly in his tent waiting for business.
"Ri'saad," The elder lifted his head to his name, "why are we not allowed in the cities?" Sk'Raazda asked swiveling her tall, pierced ears to the noises around her. The old, wise Khajiit closed his eyes and took a breath before answering.
"Ri'saad has thought much about this but still does not understand. All Ri'saad can say is we are outsiders. We are not welcome." Sk'Raazda sighed looking up to the tall towers of Dragonsreach and the stone wall the surrounded Whiterun. She thought silently for a moment, the feather hanging off her earring softly rustling against the fur on her head. She turned to the elder again, looking around at the others before speaking.
"What if Sk'Raazda wished to leave and try to prove the bloody Nords wrong Ri'saad? Sk'Raazda has long wished to sink her blade into a foe for the good of people, and not for protection of Sk'Raazda." The elder opened his weary eyes, studying her for a long while. He stood, his black tipped tail flicking with thought before he walked up to her and hugged her warmly.
"Then the Khajiits here would support you, Sk'Raazda. We only wish that you not forget the ones that gave you a home for so many years. If you were to return to us, we would welcome you as if you had not gone." He released her, the other two members coming to embrace her. Their fur brushing together as they released. Sk'Raazda turned back to Ri'saad waiting for his final good-bye. He retreated into his tent and came back with a steel, engraved blade. He presented it to her bidding her to take it as a token of memory.
"Thank you Ri'saad. Sk'Raazda should not forget those she holds dearest to her." She took the blade smiling, giving Ri'Saad a final hug before she left to enter the gates of Whiterun.
"The guards are evil swine..." she mumbled to herself as she passed the gates entering the city. She made her way past the blacksmith and the market entering the Bannered Mare directly. She walked up to the bar where the bartender was cleaning vigorously.
"Need a drink, friend?" The bartender asked, not looking up from her work. Sk'Raazda, caught off guard by her seemingly friendly composure, stumbled into asking about any work that she might have heard of. The bartender shook her head, "Sorry friend, the Jarl hasn't sent out any bounties lately." A hooded fellow came up to the bar whispering as he spoke.
"I have..." His words lingered long after he spoke. Sk'Raazda looked to the strange man eager, but weary, for him to continue.
"There are bandits...Bandits at Halted Stream Camp...It's not far from here and I'll pay handsomely..." He said in that lofty whisper. The shadows hiding every detail of his face due to the hood on his cloak. He handed her a parchment with the bounty written on it in dark black ink. She unrolled it skimming over the location before looking back up, the hooded man gone. She shrugged twitching her spotted tail in wonder as she left the Bannered Mare, headed towards her first act of justice.