It had been a long journey, but at last, he had finally arrived. Solitude, the jewel of Haafingar and crown of Skyrim, or so some people would say. With the way the succession war was going on, others would have called Windhelm that instead, but M’Shan would rather deal with the temper weather and the Imperial Legion here than the harsh cold and the people circling Ulfric’s court.

     The Khajiit uncovered his face and took a sip from his bottle. Only a few more steps and—

     “Halt,” one of the guards at the city gate shouted. “You know the law, cat, your kind cannot come into the city.”

     Typical. This was not the first time that M’Shan had been denied entrance to one of the region’s settlements or use their facilities. In fact, had it not been for a travelling caravan going to Dawnstar, he might as well have perished on the way here. Sweet Ahkari, he’d miss her, but that was long in the past. The Khajiit bowed and turned back, seeing from the corner of his eye as the guard returned to the gate. M'Shan smiled.

     Every city had another entrance. One that was often overlooked.

     And one that he could exploit.

     It was just a matter of finding it. Just like he had back in Riften, which was the reason why he was here in the first place…

     - - -

     The Khajiit skulked around. He didn’t want to get caught now after what happened on the Cyrodiil border. Luckily, he had managed to spot a nearby group also crossing which he used for diversion. M’Shan felt bad for the Nords, dressed in nothing but rags, but there was no way that he’d let the Legion capture him and send him back to Elsweyr.

     Instead, he walked. And walked. And walked some more. Spending the days doing menial jobs around. Mining, sawing logs, and cooking food to earn some coin. However, he soon found out that, furred as he was, the winters of Skyrim were still too much for him. Thus, he travelled south, always on the eastern side of the region for good luck, until he reached the capital of the Rift.

     Riften, one of the biggest markets of the region, and a Stormcloak city, which made it not surprising when the guards at the gate refused him entry. Of course, they offered to let him in for a small fee, but M’Shan did not have enough, and even if he did, he could smell such an obvious racket from a mile away. Instead, he walked around, he stalked, until he found his solution.

     On the perimeter of the city lay a metal grate, and from the foul odor coming from it, it was obvious that it led to the city sewers. M’Shan put a small rag over his nose, and slowly made his way in.

     The sewers, or the “Ratway” as the locals called them, were way more spacious than he thought. He did not know if this was specific to Riften or if it was the same case in the other holds, but he traversed trying to find a way out. Unfortunately, it seemed like he was not the first one with that idea. Madmen, lowlifes, and a giant man along with his pet Skeever barred his way forward, but he forged through until he arrived to what looked to be a huge cistern.

     A cold blade poked him from behind, urging him to move forward to a band of rogues sitting at a makeshift tavern. They called themselves the Thieves Guild, and M’Shan had only two options. Join, or be gutted. The Khajiit liked having his entrails where they were, so joining them he did.

     He could see himself rising through the ranks, maybe one day turning into the leader, but for now, he was just one more grunt working for the scraps of the guild. He did a petty theft here and there, sure, not being able to venture openly in the city with how notorious a Khajiit in plain sight would be, but eventually, he received his first true mission.

     - - -

     If only the guards in Solitude could be as easily bought as the ones in Riften, but alas. It was not like the guild had offered to cover any part of his mission anyway, which M’Shan guessed as this just being their way to test if he was a valuable asset or not.

     The Khajiit skulked around, but unsurprisingly, the Legion capital and seat of the High King was better guarded than most of the cities he had gone through during his journey, not helped by it being set over a cliff. M’Shan made his way down to the docks, where several swamp-walkers went through their day. A warehouse to the north looked promising, but it was well guarded as well. He knew that he could easily take out the guard and enter from there, but his master had been clear.

     “We’re not the Dark Brotherhood”, Delvin had said when he charged M’Shan with this mission, and while he was not here, the Khajiit was sure that the guild would somehow find out if he whacked the guard.

     So, the Khajiit continued his research. However, just on the side of the cliff and above the docks, lay a random wooden door. Curious, he opened it and followed it, leading him straight to the heart of the city.

     Eureka!

     He quickly dodged behind a rock as a guard appeared, and they only missed him because it seemed like there was a commotion near the city gates. He would have to wait until the night before entering the city proper.

     - - -

     Once the light of Azurah shone high above, the Khajiit made his move. Luckily, his target was nearby, and he could easily find cover under the shade of the night. He might even be able to leave directly through the main gates if he wanted to, the guards being more interested in who entered than who left, but that was thinking too far ahead.

     The Winking Skeever, a quaint inn conveniently located near the main entrance of the town. Peeking from the windows outside, M’Shan could see several of the patrons drinking and dancing as the bard sang about one of the local legends. A dragon’s spawn, or something like that. With so many people, he couldn’t just barge in and do his deed, as just him being a sand-walker would be enough to raise suspicions, but he had a plan.

     M’shan dug around his pockets until he found what he was looking for: a small leather scroll, courtesy of a friend back when he entertained the thought of joining the Winterhold College. It did not work out in the end, but it seemed like the trip had not been in vain.

     He took out the scroll and began to read the sigils. His claws started to glow in hues of darker and darker blue, and then, he shot the spell right at his feet. M’Shan covered his nose, hoping that everything had gone alright, since if the sudden smoke screen was not a dead giveaway of what he had done, the explosion surely must have alerted at least a few guards. However, once the smoke dispersed, he noticed something else. Mechanic clanks started to approach, so he hid behind the nearby wooden pillar, and from there, M’Shan had a clear view of one of the guards in the middle of their patrol.

     Or rather, of their boots. Their titanic, and more than easily able to crush him, boots.

     Invisibility Scroll…

     He was going to skin that cat!

     Regardless, this was not here or there. Nor now. So, M’Shan waited for the guard to leave before taking a look around the inn’s walls. He technically was small enough to fit under the door, but he did not feel like leaving his fate to a bunch of drunkards or risk being confused with vermin. There had to be another way. Luckily for him, there was a hole in the east side of the building. M’Shan unsheathed his dagger, not keen on finding out if there was any truth to the inn’s namesake.

     The hole led to one of the corners of the building, close to the chimney. M’Shan moved from shadow to shadow until he reached a staircase going up, from which he had a clear view of the party. So far, it seemed like no one had noticed him, the giants too busy celebrating what seemed to be an execution. Out of all things… anyways, M’Shan tried to focus on his mission.

     According to Delvin, the log was located on the second floor, but M’Shan did not need to look at the stairs to realize that climbing was not a viable option. Each step was twice his size, if not more, and even if he somehow managed to pull it off it on his own, it’d take him the whole night AND that was assuming that the spell lasted long enough to do so. If it didn’t, not only would sneaking here have been all in vain, but he’d have the Imperials hot on his tail. No, he needed to find another way.

     The ground shook as one of the giants moved to the corner of the room, near where he had entered, and M’Shan thanked the Divines that he had moved from there when the giant stopped and started to hurl.

     “Hey, no throwing up in here!” The innkeeper shouted, “Sorex, take care of it!”

     The drunk Nord retorted something that M’Shan did not understand before a young Imperial approached and started to mop. He made his way to the stairs, and M’Shan waited. Just as the Nord’s boot was in reach, the Khajiit lunged at it and used his knife to pierce it as hard as he could. Not to harm the Nord, of course, but to get a better grip on the foot as the giant slowly made his way up the stairs.

     Flaying around with each step, M’Shan clung as tight as he could, until the Nord and his tiny passenger reached the second floor. The Nord then tumbled his way to one of the rooms and dropped dead on one of the beds. Thankfully, he had not bothered to take off his boots, which meant that M’Shan was safe.

     For now.

     The Khajiit made his way out of the room and down the corridor. At the back was one thick wooden pillar, so M’Shan, knife in hand, climbed his way up until he reached the top of the table, where he finally found what he was looking for.

     The Winking Skeever’s ledger, containing all the ins and outs of the place. Its patrons, its inventory, and more importantly of all, any oddities or discrepancies regarding those two. For some reason or another, the Thieves Guild wanted to remain completely in the shadows, so M’Shan had been given the simple task of modifying the ledger to cover any tracks that could lead back to the guild or their doings.

     M’Shan had even brought his own ink and pen for the job, courtesy of Ahkari’s caravan, but they had shrunk just like the rest of his possessions. Still, there conveniently was a spare set right next to the ledger itself, the Divines were smiling on him. The pen was too heavy for the tiny man though, so with no other choice, he dipped his tail on the ink and used it as he went through the ledger, fixing any discrepancies when it came to the inventory, modifying items sold and bought to the tavern keeper, and any descriptions of people he knew from the guild. At his size, it took longer than he would have liked, what with even turning the pages proving to be an arduous task. It did not help that the ground shook with every howl from the party below, or the occasional movement from the rooms around him. At first, the Khajiit tried to find cover whenever he felt something, but as the night dragged on, and he realized that there was no danger, he stopped doing it altogether.

     After what felt like an hour, at last, the job was done. M’Shan wiped his forehead, all the needed to do now was—

     “What do we have here?”

     Before M’Shan could turn around, a giant hand grabbed him from behind and lifted him with a tight grip. Once it stopped moving, all M’shan could see was a red and dry plain, above which two yellows orbs stared at him. And below, a valley of razor-sharp teeth, being occasionally licked by a long, thick tongue.

     “You wouldn’t happen to be one of those Khajiit pets, are you?” The Argonian asked, but the answer was so obvious that he continued before M’Shan said something. “No, you’re something else.” He smiled. “Whatever you are, I’m sure that I might still be able to fetch a good coin out of you. A pet, perhaps? Or maybe…”

     M’Shan trashed under the swamp-walker’s strong grip until at least he was able to get his right arm out and stabbed with as much strength as he could muster, chipping his blade in the process. The Argonian turned his hand around. The cat’s toothpick had barely made a dent on his calloused skin. A cut so shallow that even the ledger’s pages would have done it deeper.

     “Hah, looks like you’ve got some spunk on you.” The Argonian flashed a toothy smile at the tiny and with his free hand started to detach his harness to his trousers, opening them to reveal a darker cave than any that M’Shan had ever delved before. “Don’t see why we can’t have some fun while—”

     “Jaree-Ra, what are you doing?”

     The Argonian quickly turned around, both hands behind his back and under the base of his tail.

     “Me? Nothing, egg-cousin, I was just—”

     “You know, there’s a ship coming from Hammerfell. Lots of cargo, some of which might get… lost. I’m sure your sister would be interested.”

     This grabbed the Argonian’s attention. “Your price?”

     “Whatever it is you’ve got behind you.”

     Jaree-Ra sighed and handed over the tiny cat, but before M’Shan could see his savior, he was quickly shoved inside the man’s pockets. He could tell from the scales holding him firm, but not as tight as before, that this was another swamp-walker, and M’Shan just waited as the pair talked about a plan to extinguish the lighthouse and later plunder the ship. After they were done, M’Shan’s new world started to shake as his savior started to move around, the scaly thumb gently rubbing him.

     Was the giant fidgeting, or something else?

     A door creaked open, followed by the screeching of moving metal. A few minutes later, the shaking stopped, and he was slowly taken out of the pocket. Under the moon’s light, M’Shan was finally able to look at his savior. An unassuming swamp-walker covered in emerald scales, and wearing nothing more than some merchant’s clothing.

     “Who are you?”

     “A friend of the guild,” the Argonian said. He gently lowered himself and deposited the cat on the ground. From the looks of it, they were on the main road leading to the city, just past the stables.

     M’Shan had many questions. Why hadn’t he just done the job himself? How did the swamp-walker knew he was up there? Did he see him cling to the Nord’s boot, and if so, why hadn’t he helped him then? But before he could ask anything, the Argonian turned around and made his way back to the city.

     “I’ll make sure to tell Delvin that you got a perfect score on your mission.” He chuckled. “Well, with a tiny exception.”

     The giant disappeared in the distance, which to the Argonian, might have been nothing more than just a couple steps.

     M’Shan sighed in relief. This was finally over, and so he started his way back, but a wolf’s howled in the distance reminded him of his grim reality.

     He was still small.

     He was unarmed.

     He didn’t know how much longer the spell would last.

     And he was alone out here in the wilds.

     The Khajiit picked up the pace.

     Maybe it would have been better if the Legion had caught him back at the border all those moons ago. After all, what’s the worst that could have happened?