Meet Tanoriah

Once again she was found brooding over plans.

“Mam, Sergeant, mam!” the soldier saluted clumsily.

Great, another Recruit sent my way. I was asking for skilled, seasoned soldiers. Not fresh meat which is going to be cannon fodder and just wasted on a battlefield like this. All of the eagerness to kill and no motivation to share the victory. They always look the same too. Buzzcut, green behind the ears, baby faced and with a super flashy body tattoo – somewhere – to show how ‘hard’ they are.

I mean at least when I entered my scars stemmed from battle, they weren’t self-inflicted or made up. My Tattoos remind me of where I’ve been, what I’m made of, what I believe in, not what is considered ‘fashionable’ at the time. And, I mean, I won’t say anything about the hairstyle, but these Locks were earned!

Gotta put the gameface on I guess, don’t want to scare the new kid.

“At ease, Soldier! We’ll work on that Salute later. Where did you receive training and for how long? What did they tell you to expect here?”

The last question isn’t protocol, but it is a good one to see a person’s mindset, their expectations and such. The Recruiting officer – don’t get me wrong, nice lad and all – but he is a bit brainwashed. I guess you have to be in order to get people excited about selling their lives to a never-ending war. He hasn’t seen a battlefield since he was slapped off a barstool for spillin’ plans to our internal quality evaluator over a couple too many ales. Showed ‘em he can’t be trusted at the frontlines.

I never had it easy. Even as a child. Orphaned way too young, recruited by the Thieves Guild – I heard they calmed right down after two of their youngest were brutally abducted and presumably slaughtered for sticking their hands into the Dark Brotherhood’s Honeypot on their behalf.

She was trying to hold in a smile when thinking about that story, which just made her face look distorted and mean, intimidating the young soldier who was babbling away nervously.

One of my more genius plans, that one was! It would never work a second time, and definitely not with the state the Thieves Guild is in now. Under their new leader they seem very united and more sly than brute force. A very nice and necessary evolution I think. …

Is he about finished now? I just asked for his Training, not his life story. This guy would make a better bard than soldier.

“… I think he said he fought in battle with you once… and told me to be prepared for the worst treatment I have yet to receive. I mean – not in the mean kinda way – but, you know, the strong leadership kinda way, you know? I mean – … you get what I mean … right?!”

By Mother’s Sea, the way he stands there you’d think he is gonna piss himself if I look directly at him. I’m almost tempted to test that theory. Oh, but Malirika would scold me for it. Right after she laughed her sorry behind off of course. ‘Approach him with care’ she’d say ‘we were all young and dumb once’. Fine, you were always my voice of reason, I shall behave myself.

“I am no more strict than any other Officer ranked at the battlefront. I am just – not mean, but I do not like to waste time with polite phrases and words of encouragement. This is not a playground. People die here every day. If it’s not to the forces of Molag Bal it is to the other factions attempting to get as many resources for them to be able to claim the title of ‘Emperor’ or ‘Has Been’ or whatever else they believe they can’t live without. You can either put everything you have into this Life – it is not a job, it is your life; you are not fighting for the emperor, your fellow countrymen, your family or even me, you are fighting for your life – or you will rot in a no-mans land without a name, without a grave, without tears shed by anyone here.”

Tears started balling up in the recruit’s eyes.

This is going to be interesting to see unfold. They told him about glory on the battlefield. They told him my stories, where I have come from, that everyone starts out as a recruit but can go anywhere with it. They did what they do best – get numbers. But in the end half of the recruits won’t make it out alive, another quarter is deserting a place they never really had the full picture of with nightmares for the rest of their lives and a paranoid feeling someone is out to get them. They mostly end up in Taverns or worse. Only a quarter of the Recruits ever make it through a full term and even less than that make it into specialized operations. Made to descend upon Keeps like a dagger you don’t see coming. I will give this one a week, maybe two until he goes crying back to mommy. I have yet to be wrong about one of my assessments.

Aaaand there it goes, a big, crocodile sized tear pearling down the plump baby-faced cheek. Getting caught by some stubble intended to make the wearer look like a man. Stubble can’t hide immaturity. I’ll give him a moment to collect himself. Don’t roll your eyes at him Nori, don’t do it, don … dammit. By Orgnum a fucking disappointing headshake does not help this situation either! One of these days I will master the show of my expressions. Look at him, now he is balling his eyes out stuttering how it’s not fair he was assigned here.

With a big sigh she walked over to her desk, sat in her chair and started writing.

“I only wanted to get my name on that board you know, I wanted to help my Sovereign, I wanted to make my family proud. It was of course said that all the skills we learned would help us stay alive, but I never thought I was going to be sent this far out! With all this fighting going on, with this long process of getting anywhere close to your position, with the inevitability of death being extremely apparent all of the sudden, looking at you!”

Tanoriah stopped writing, raised an eyebrow at the soldier, looking up at him.

“What does looking at me have to do with any of this break in your expectation of being handed all the glory while wanting to put in none of the effort?”

“Well it’s just, you don’t seem to have any concern for whether I live or die. You just sit here in your comfortable Tent, pondering over make-believe figures on a board. When was the last time you’ve seen battle?! And now you are standing there mighty high on a horse telling me I will die?”

She put the feather down and folded up the sheet of paper very neatly – a half written note of no value without her seal – and gave it to the boy.

Towering over him with all her Dunmer height and all her Battleborn might she said very calmly and very collected – intimidatingly restrained in anger:
“I was just now writing this letter for you. Helping you out of this shithole the Sovereign calls a front. Consisting of fresh meat to be slaughtered by the millions. I was just now going to explain in this letter how your specific talents of chewing someone’s ear off would be much better suited in spy-work or interrogation tactics teams. Away from the front. I was going to listen to my sister’s preaching.
But looking at you now.
With your make believe Tattoos, your want-to-be Attitude and your Disrespect for those who have fought before you, stood before you, evened the way for you, built a squadron for you, and saved you without taking glory, without recognition – I think I will rather…”

Her eyes darkened, she leaned down with a grim smile reflecting the horrors she encountered in Cyrodiil. It would make your skin crawl.

let – you – burn – in Cyrodiil’s fires!