A/N: I'm trying to write while playing a new game using an Argonian. So...please be nice to me. _

Disclaimer: I don't own Skyrim. Also I admit it's the only TES game I've ever played. If something is wrong with the lore, please do send a review.


Kindle-Starter was not a very happy man-reptile right now.

He was a poor Argonian, with no lineage to speak of for he cannot remember the details of his life when he was a young reptile in the Black Marsh. As if Hist was not satisfied cursing his existence with poverty, he had awoken to a bumpy cart ride, bound in hands, wearing ragged clothing and what seems to be a one-way trip to something dreadful.

He had tried to reminisce what had happened. There were employers who, he had persuaded, would find his skills useful during camp (as his name had hinted at what that particular task was). "Kindle-Starter" because of his meager Flame skill that provided just enough power to create fire from dry kindle.

The first few days of his employment had gone by, quiet and peaceful. The caravan he was in, met no bandits on the road, or bears or wolves for that matter.

It was one night when there was a large ambush that had caught each and everyone of them by surprise. Kindle-Starter had his fair share of attacks during employment, but when he recognized Imperial uniforms among the ambushers, he knew this was no ordinary raid.

He was caught easily, his hands held and bound behind him as he struggled to get loose. His persistence probably annoyed his Imperial captors, because the last thing he knew was a large fist hitting him at the side of his snout, where he promptly blacked out and lost all consciousness.

And there he was, his spirit of persistence lost at the inevitability that he was in right now.

He mulled at the short life that he had lived, and not a satisfying life it was. Even as someone who introduced himself as Ralof kept nattering about where they were right now, who he was, and who the gagged prisoner beside him was. The horse thief beside him, which hailed from Rorikstead had a panicked look in his eyes.

The Argonian kept his silence, as all Argonians were naturally quiet and kept to their own counsel. It didn't matter to know what the name of the village they were being brought to. He could feel a lot of imminent deaths from that village.

Kindle-Starter turned towards the other prisoners in the carts that followed their own. Heads would probably roll later. Literally.


He listened to the officer that was listing out names from a list, ticking a checkmark whenever the identified moved to the front near the "Block".

He was a bit surprised though, when the horse thief had made a mad dash towards the gate. He made a disgusted face when the archers shot the man in the back, downing him in an instant. The Argonian disliked this ugly side of the Nords.

He turned his attention towards the front however, when he heard the word "lizard" and noticed that both the officer and his commander were looking at him.

"My apologies." He hissed softly, his serpentine voice not belying the fear of death that was making his insides squirm. "Did you inquire something of me?"

The officer's face hardened a bit, the Argonian noticed. But this was more of someone who was fighting his emotions. Kindle-Starter could relate.

"What…is your name?" The officer asked.

"My name…" He struggled a bit, before steeling his resolve. He was to die anyway. Best that at least someone would know his egg-name. "I am called Yrrab Naga in my homeland. Here in your country, I am more known by my professional name as "Kindle-Starter" or "Arrow-Gatherer".

The officer raised his eyebrows a bit.

"Arrow-Gatherer? I have heard about you. You were that young Argonian that helped supply arrows for the camp near Ivarstead."

The lizard-man shrugged but inside he felt a sense of accomplishment. "I do my duties with honesty and for my employer's satisfaction."

He felt the cold glare from Ralof, but chose to wisely ignore it. He had not mentioned his former services to the Imperials with his current employers.

"Captain." The officer turned towards the woman beside him. "What should we do? He is not on the list."

Yrrab felt his spirits rise at the possibility of not having to have a close encounter with the chopping block.

"Forget the list. He goes to the block."

Talk about a heartwrench.

"By your orders, Captain." He responded softly. "I'm sorry Arrow-Gatherer, we will make sure your remains are returned to Black Marsh."

The Argonian merely shook his head, as he softly trudged towards Ralof's side.

Fortunately, the Stormcloak soldier didn't bother to talk to him anymore. Not that Yrrab could handle talking anymore. The break in his voice might hint of the inner turmoil he felt inside.

Sovngarde has no place for kindle starters or arrow gatherers. Yrrab, in his green age, often wondered what really happens to Argonians when they pass away. Would he be reunited with the Hist instead?

This would be the best time to find out. Even if he did not want to do so personally.