#morag tong

Avrusa had nearly turned the entire room inside out. 

Bed sheets and once-folded robes thrown about the floor, furniture tipped over. Notes from the desk drawer falling through the air as the mage searched and searched for a clue, a drop of blood, something, anything to give her a hint as to where the assassin had gone. Her hastily lit magelight (as she’d been too frantic to take the time to light candles) flickered and went out, and she made a frustrated grunt. She tried to conjure another, stronger one, but her mind was filled with too much worry and her magicka wouldn’t agree with her. Avrusa clumsily lit the candles in the room with a match, too panic-stricken to calm herself down enough to control her magicka properly. 

It was as if the other Dunmer had simply disappeared! Until the tornado that was Avrusa Ra’athim came into the hideout room, nothing had been out of the ordinary. The bed was properly made, there were no signs of any sort of scuffle or forced entry into the hideout. The bowl on the table that normally held ash yams was empty, but that was the only thing that wasn’t normal. Did the ash yam thief kidnap her? No, again, there was no sign of anything like that. No Morag Tong assassin would go down without a fight. But if they found her in her sleep…

Avrusa wracked her brain, any and all enemies she could’ve made coming to the forefront. She cringed. Too many daedric princes she’d managed to get on the bad side of came to mind. Nocturnal was too calculating, and Sotha Sil had at the very least severely wounded her. Clavicus Vile? That was a possibility. Maybe he wanted to strike her before she could-

No. That was ridiculous. Princes rarely, if ever, meddled with the mortal world. She would be naive to think one would go so far as to kidnap her… friend, just to get vengeance. She wasn’t that important. A lesser daedra, perhaps? Or maybe not even a daedra at all. Some remaining followers of Vox or Chodala. Someone her house had angered, getting revenge at the Hlaalu council through her. Did they know she was an assassin? Avrusa melted to her knees, suddenly lacking the energy to search through the mess she’d made. Short, harsh breaths were forcing their way out of her lungs. Damn the Great Houses and damn their housewars. Damn the daedra and Pact and the Morag Tong. If Naryu was harmed she would raise Oblivion through all of Vvardenfell and Deshaan and-

“What’s this, then? That magic of yours finally get to your head and leave you soulsick?”

The mage’s head snapped up, her eyes glassy with tears threatening to spill. The air was knocked out of her lungs in relief; Naryu Virian stood before her, very much alive. The assassin stared at her with a smirk that attempted to mask her absolutely bewildered state. She was dressed in the leathers of her organization, her hair longer than normal, falling just before her collarbones. Avrusa wanted to tackle her right there, to take her into her bed and never let her go again. Why would she just leave like that? Why would she make her worry? What was she doing?

“Where were you?” She asked innocently. She was surrounded by crumpled parchment and drawers that had been torn out of their dressers. Jet black locks of hair that were normally pinned neatly into style were wild and frizzed and her makeup was smudged from exasperated gestures. Naryu didn’t know if she wanted to laugh at her or kiss her. 

“I had other matters to attend to that didn’t involve you, for once,” The words could have sounded harsh but Naryu said them in the same light-hearted teasing tone that they so often spoke to each other with. “I am a Morag Tong assassin, if you remember. We have duties from time to time.”

“…Ah.”

A faint flush was beginning to appear in Avrusa’s cheeks, embarrassment at her actions starting to overcome the relief she felt at seeing Naryu alive. She tore her gaze away from the other Dunmer and looked at her hands, fiddling with a piece of rogue paper. Three, this was humiliating.

“Were you… worried for me?” Naryu had a smile on her face that was much too large for Avrusa’s liking.

“No!” Avrusa coughed. “No, I wasn’t- I simply was wondering why you weren’t here. I figured, maybe…”

“Maybe I’d been taken by some new dark enemy of yours? Do you have that little faith in me?” She knelt down besides Avrusa’s ashamed face, pushing clutter out of the way. “How would you know I hadn’t run off with some secret lover?”

Avrusa scoffed and jumped to her feet. She neatened her hair the best she could and began cleaning up the mess she’d created. Of course Naryu was just trying to push her buttons, but that didn’t make it any less obnoxious of her. Whatever they’d had these past months, this odd little affair was confusing and treacherous waters for Avrusa, but she did not take it lightly. She never took anything lightly, to tell the truth.

“If that’s the case then why are you here? Shouldn’t you be sunbathing in the Isles with said ‘secret lover’?” She turned her nose up at Naryu and began putting books back on shelves. She was scared for a moment that Naryu was going to continue the playful bickering, but to her relief she felt gentle but firm arms wrap around her waist and a chin set on her shoulder. She let out a breath. 

“When I’m not out and about murdering House nobles, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you, my darling,” Avrusa smiled and held the women’s arms close to her. “And to your credit I find it adorable that you were worried for me. Not that you needed to be, I could take down a daedric prince in an instant.”

“You’re right. If it had been you in the Clockwork City, Nocturnal would’ve barely stood a chance.”

“I’m glad someone finally recognizes my capability.”

Naryu turned Avrusa around and laid a gentle kiss on her forehead before guiding her to the bed on the right wall of the small room. Ignoring the chaos around them, they opted to shed their armor and spend the night with a bottle of wine in eachothers arms. 

There were many things Avrusa didn’t know. She didn’t know what would come of the Three Banners war. She didn’t know if the Ebonhart Pact would survive, or what would come of this mysterious call to the Summerset Isles she’d gotten. What she did know for certain was that the Morag Tong assassin in her arms was the only thing grounding her to sanity through it all. And by the Three, was she in love with her.

Digital rendition of my first (and still dear) Dungeons and Dragons character, made for a character animation assignment. We got to choose the mini-story to animate so of course I went with an iconic DnD moment … prof didn’t say no, so …

Still love her. If you’ve been around for a bit you might recall I’ve drawn Aly before.

I’m also guilty of prematurely developing 2-3 PC ideas for a potential follow-up campaign that may happen in the somewhat distant future.

Done on iPad with Procreate.