Scarlet Scale

First of all, I do NOT own Elder Scrolls, or any part of it, I'm writing this purely for fun, not profit. Enjoy.

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"What do you mean," I asked Nusha, feeling irritated, 'I don't have an argonian soul?' My body is argonian, what other kind of soul could I have?"

"To be fully sure of your soul," my old homevillage's shaman answered, "you must find a way to receive a reply from the Gods. Regardless, the Hist were still able to tell me that great things await you. But that some will view them as 'good,' while others would call them 'evil.' The Hist seems to be keeping knowledge from me, but whatever their reasons, I must accept them. You must too, because they are what they are. Although your path is not clear to me, they did tell me that answers await you in Skyrim."

"The snow frequented homeland of the fight-loving nords? Surely not!"

The shaman clicked her tongue, rolling her head to one side, she was annoyed by my impertinence I suppose, though of course I didn't see myself as impertinent.

"Scarlet-Scale," Nusha patiently tried, "not all nords are the same, and if they only lived to fight, they would never have the teamwork to build their mighty cities. Now, you of all argonians, should not be so quick to dismiss a people simply because of their love of fighting."

She was right, I did love to fight, whether it was arguing, or driving off the primitive naga raiders from Murkwater. Even the hackwings feared me. But even for an argonian, the others always felt like I was something different. I never fought because I was intent on defending the village, or because a topic in an argument was "worth it." When I've thought about it, I think it was the thrill of the fight I lived for, the fire of my lust for adrenaline.

My bluetoad, I captured him in the dangerous wilderness of Gloomlight, and rode my steed as if Oblivion itself would chase us. I needed the thrill of excitement like I needed water I guess. But it was not that the nords liked to fight that bothered me.

I knew Argonia. It was familiar to me, the wonderful swamp, the moss, the smells, the sights, the sounds, and how what might well cause any human or mer to feel sick, felt comfortably to me. It was home. The frozen cold of the north, the dry heat of the massive Alik'r Desert, these were not appealing, because I had not lived there. Perhaps if I lived there, the familiarity might rub off on me, but I did not like the idea of having to readjust.

I frowned. "I am... unhappy with this... 'news.' I'm going back to my home to think on this."

"Of course," Nusha agreed "take that time. But remember this, the Hist told me that you must leave Argonia before the passing of a month's time. There are-"

"A month?!" I interrupted, furious that all this was being thrust so suddenly upon me. "What? Why?!!"

"The only reason the Hist would tell me of, is that you will be absolutely crucial for certain events in Skyrim to take place. That they are somehow connected with the type of soul that you do have, even if it is not argonian."

I growled, but knew there was nothing I could do about it, so I ran off to the swamp's bay. My home here was an old sunken brig, the name of which I never figured out. The ship was a type of fast attack craft the pirates favored for quick getaways, though the last one was not quite quick enough, as the heavy javelin that had made the entrance of my underwater home had struck below the ship's waterline. Fortunately the ship had also been made of the tarwood common to the area, it's a hardwood that has extremely poisonous sap to protect it from the voracious appetites of the wood eating insects here, so it resisted decay very well.

It also rested near a hidden maelstrom that the tides created during their interactions with the river's steady current at its mouth. So strong were the currents that only I ever dared go near the wreck. So only I could make use of the pirates' forgotten treasure, perhaps 200 pounds of gold coins, and a small pile of emeralds that rivaled any new spring shoots in their brightness.

One might have thought I would have taken it by now, but wealth didn't interest me, it was the thrill of any kind of excitement I looked for. Besides, my hidden treasure was also useful for when I might need it. Such as the new trip I had to plan for now...

I screamed in anger in my watery home.

"Xhuth!! Why?! Damned trees!! I'm not even argonian in my soul?! What does that make me?!"

I swung furiously at an old algaeic balloon colony bobbing near the ceiling. It deflated a little, but that hardly did anything to it. Fuming, I tried breathing the water more slowly so I could calm down. I certainly had the body of an argonian. My scales gleamed the color of my namesake in the yellow light of my mudcandles, a fungus that grew underwater and gave off light like their namesakes. My feelings were still admittedly hot, but I was starting to feel better.

Slowly. Too slowly. But I did know another way to relax...

I wasn't thinking much about it at the time, but I believed that the only real reason why I didn't have a companion by now, was because I was too "aggressive." But I also had my own solutions for that.

Rummaging around in the air-filled, former captain's quarters, I soon found what I was looking for. It was a rod of decorative browngrain wood, about twice as long as my clawed hand, and as thick as the length of my thumb. Not that I didn't use my thumb, or even my whole hand, but my wooden rod was the most... effective.

Shortly, I was panting happily as I felt it slide slowly past my lower lips, oiled easily by my moisture. The in, the out, oh it was soooo good. I loved how easily my body responded like this, while I braised my button-like nipples, eagerly waiting for them to start dispensing my body's milk. I had never exactly had the pleasure of having my way with a human, mer, or khajiit, but instead of simple milk argonian women produced our only physical connection to the Hist, our sap. The shamans, they used a special secretive alteration magic to insert Hist seeds in our breasts...

Even if my soul wasn't "argonian," I was definitely grateful that I was still connected in this special way. I could enjoy my Hist sap regardless of how far I was from the trees. No one outside of the Hist, or the shamans knew how this was done, or why the seed from those of us who died outside the beloved swamp did not germinate, but I had not a care at all for it right now. The concentrated sap taken directly from the trees was dangerous to non-argonians, but diluted by our "milk," it was heavenly to me...

"Oh, oh, oh, oh yeeessss!!" I lingered as long as I could in my orgasm, then gasped to myself as I started working myself up again. "Oh... if I am to be a lukiul, I do hope that I find another as... excitable... as me..."

I savored my body's thick syrupy wetness and its creamy, milky sap. No sooner than maybe five minutes later, I was riding my pleasure again. And again. And again. Oh how I loved my sinuous body, the full softness of my red, scaly breasts. I thrust back and forth, my mind reeling about the idea I might find another argonian woman, perhaps also a male we would share, but most everyone seemed to have interests in this that far too "tame." My tail was quivering with excitement in my fantasy.

I never really understood why my parents or the others weren't as active about this as I was. If sex brought such pleasure, why waste time with not enjoying it, even if it was with your loved one, let alone oneself? But then I was enjoying myself far too much to really care...

Eventually, I drifted off to sleep, my rambling thoughts and daydreams of sex still in my mind...

Was that why I naked, and enjoying a really good fuck with a big argonian male, and a suckling on the creamy "milk" of another woman, a nord? I swore I could feel a bit strange about the way she was giving me a hickey too. Like a strange, new, exciting "warmth" was flowing out from my neck, but then I was also tasting more than her milk. It was sweet, salty, and sour, all at once.

I don't know exactly how long we had been going, but I never had felt more stronger or energetic than I had then. Or more strange. But something quite "natural" about it too. Like this was exactly how and what the three of us were supposed to have been doing, all along.

I had no idea what place it was in, but it seemed like some dark, but candlelit stone castle somewhere.

"Oh..." the male huskily breathed, his head underneath the waist of the other woman in front of me, while at the same time thrusting his hips, "oh Mistress Scarlet, I'm such a lucky man to be able to sample both you and..." his voice seemed to fade strangely just as he was saying the other's name "...both such... delicious maidens."

I was so enraptured in the pleasure that the others were giving me, that the time seemed to just go on, I had no sense of it, except that of our time. Then I heard a sound of another coming up behind me, but I was far from upset at it. I was actually quite pleased.

"Enjoying fine dessert in each other, eh Mistresses?" The other male said.

I wasn't sure of his race, but he sounded like an orc. But then I was much more focused on enjoying the feeling of his entering my arse, as he clamped his mouth down on the other side of my neck for that same hickey. I was building up to it then, but it was right at that moment that I felt the force of my gushing, just as the one I straddled was coming inside we all seemed to have a collective sigh of our pleasure, but didn't pause in the slightest. As this happened, the perspective I saw changed to a point moving out of my back. I could see that my scales' complexion was much paler than I expected, almost tan, though I seemed to have retained my deep red coloring with the use of body paint. I couldn't make out the faces of any of the others, they were all obscured in the perspective.

Then I did something that truly shocked me. Though not at all, the "me" in my dream. I thought that the material on my back was an odd-looking leather cloak, but no, it was far more different. I tensed my body, and abruptly, the "cloak" unfolded off from me, as a massive pair of batwings, which I stretched with flexing! Then I curled them around my other female partner, and she was doing the same to me, with a pair of her own wings.

The vision then faded out in red.

"By the Nine!" I gasped as I shook myself awake. "What in oblivion was that?!"

I focused on what I could remember...

'Was I... a... vampire?' I thought 'But then... what were those wings?'

I had no precise answers for any of it, and I never liked it when the picture was incomplete. But I had to admit, there was something thrilling about that, and oh how I did enjoy the thrill.

I grabbed for my wooden rod...

After my quick orgasm, I dressed, ate a breakfast of shrimp and catfish, then left, grabbing some of my coins from the treasure. I intended to plan for my trip as soon as possible...