TheCzarsHussar

Brund Hammer-Fang, Honmund Approaching Mistwatch Keep 4:30 pm "Weapons at the ready! You dunmer, get ready to burn down the gate! We're approaching the fort now. In twenty minutes, we'll attack. No one is to remain breathing inside. No one. No prisoners, no surrenders, none of them." The sky was rumbling in anticipation of the events that would soon transpire. "The Bull" and his army had come. He would soon let it be known that when they did, blood would be spilled. And it would be spilled a plenty. As his armies marched on, the imposing sounds of the Nordic boots marching on towards their target was further accentuated by the low grumble from the skies above and the sounds of the men banging on their blue painted shields donned with Windhelm's bear insignia. It would seem that Kyne was present as if to see her child in action herself. The bleak visage was made complete once the dark clouds from the other side of the fort made it's way towards the new general's forces to greet them, shrouding the land in a gray vesture of shadow as they covered the sun. Brund brought his entire force of one thousand five hundred men to take the fort, preferring to make sure that the job was done right. There was word of a growing force in these parts and he would be sure to stomp it out. Surrender was out of the question, although Brund wouldn't tell them that if they offered it. He would simply send them in. When the men finally made their approach, the war horns from the inside of the fort could be heard alerting all inside. Brund had his men ready and in position. Archers in the back pointing at the battlements and ready to pepper them with arrows so they couldn't shoot back as easily, battle mages in the front, although there weren't as many, this being a Stormcloak army and not having a great deal of Dunmer supporters. Shield bearers up front and protecting the battlemages who stood in between the front lines so that they could use the shields for cover. The men were still banging on their shields before Brund gave the order for silence. The activity within the fort had ceased. Arrows were drawn on both sides, but there was nothing but silence from everyone. Everyone but Kyne that is. Brund stayed among his men so that the men inside could not get a shot on him when he spoke. "Enemies of Skyrim! Surrender your fort, your weapons and supplies...and your lives will be spared! Refuse....and die!" At this, all of his men started banging on their shields once more. There was no reply from anyone inside however. They just stood at their battlements...waiting. Brund was just about to give the signal to attack when suddenly the ground started to to shake slightly and the sound of men's footsteps could be heard from behind. Another warhorn was heard from behind as well and all the soldiers turned around to see that the bandits had somehow out maneuvered them. Brund's forces were trapped in between the walls of the fort and the oncoming army. But judging from the size of the force, Brund could see that he had not lost yet. Brund gave the order for all the troops on his right to turn to the fort and all on the left to face the newcomers, Afterwards he moved towards them and the force looking with him followed suit. Brund walked forward to see what the newcomers would do. Their men did not have their weapons yet drawn. Brund watched as the bandit force before him marched up, well organized and lined up like a professional army and he knew something was up. Maybe a Stormcloak defected and started his own army? Or a legionnaire who didn't get the memo that the war is over? Brund sat there waiting for something to happen, but nothing did for a while. Their forces just sat there staring at them. Brund was growing increasingly angry at the annoyance. "Hey! Are you going to fight or just stand there? Where's your leader?" Aenin turned to Honmund who was leaning on the pommel of his Nordic Carved "Blood Axe" while looking at Brund, trying to size him up. Aenin tapped him on the shoulder and whispered in his ear. "Sir, would you like me to speak to him?" Honmund gave him an uninterested shrug which said if you wish, be my guest. Aenin started moving through the men who parted for him as he walked through. Brund's eyes widened when he saw the man...he knew him. "My name is-" "Aenin!" said Brund, who cut him off. Aenin was caught off guard and he stood there confused for a moment. Then his face grew more and more worried. Frightened even. Shit! Shit shit shit! The "Son of Kyne" himself, here? And a general? This isn't good. This is the last person I ever wanted to see again, let alone in this s-. Without warning, Brund ran forward with a surprising velocity and grabbed Aenin by his neck and lifted him off his feet. Aenin's face had turned ghost white even before this happened. Brund was grinning at the force before him, which all drew their weapons while the breton dangled in the air. The sky's grumbles grew louder. "Uh uh, you play me for a fool! There's no way this half breed bitch here could have done all this! He wasn't that good a leader in the legion...Send me your leader or I snap his neck like a twig!" Honmund let out a small smile before letting it fade back into nothing, going unnoticed. Walking towards Brund while holding his Blood-Axe from under the axe head, Honmund called out, "How can you blame me for taking you for a fool, when you find yourself in such a position? You can't win this battle. Give up." Brund looked at the warrior before him and was even more confused then when he saw Aenin. He was clad in Nordic Carved armor just like the Necro Nords were and looked very much like one. "You, did you defect from our ranks? What is your name?" Honmund's eyes gave away nothing, even when he looked at Aenin. But if they did, they'd show disapproval with a bit of amusement at seeing his tough little Breton legionnaire in such a predicament. "No I am not a Necro Nord. That is all the information I will give you at the moment. All you need to know right now is that you are in no position to attack us. See reason and tell your men to stand d-" "Shut the **** up, now. I have more men then you do. Even with this position you can't defeat me. I may not be able to defeat you, but we'll sure take you with us." Honmund still gave away nothing in his eyes even when talking down to Brund. "You are either a fool or you want to die. If you carry out an attack, almost all of your men will fall." Honmund cupped his hands and called out to Brund's forces. "Hear me! My name is Honmund. Surrender now and your lives will be spared. If not, this General of yours will get you all killed!" Brund smiled even more now and he let Aenin drop. Aenin was coughing and gasping for breath on the ground as Brund and Honmund stared at each other, Brund's face fierce, Honmund's mockingly indifferent. It was now Brund's time to call out. "Men! Tell our guest what your answer is! Victory...." "Or Sovngarde!" said his men all in unison, except the Dunmer who stayed silent but thought Victory or to the ash they'll return. "My men know the drill, boy. Fight now...or die later. Cowardice is now a capital offense. At least with my men it is. Besides, I came to do a job and I intend to do it. Even if we all die, we'd have cleared out this upstart group of bandits of yours." Honmund stepped closer to Brund and stared at him right in the face. "We are not mere bandits. See reason, or we will wipe out your entire force...." Brund never lost his grin as he spoke. "Then do so! We Stormcloaks can afford to lose the men, at least in comparison to you. You, this is all you have! Replacements for you is much more of an issue than me....I came for blood...." Brund pressed his forehead to Honmund's so that his rancid breath could be smelled. Honmund was wondering about the state of this man's mind and whether or not he was crazy, stupid or both, but he didn't back down. "And I'm going to get it...." The skies grumbled even louder now as the growing storm was directly above them. Both forces stared in anticipation, sweating, some gulping in nervousness as they waited for their impending doom to commence. This fight would most certainly be bloody. Some may try to run in the confusion, but most here were hardened men and well trained. This place would become a mass grave. Aenin who was still grasping his neck and breathing heavily on the ground finally stood up and spoke. "Wait, Brund, wait! We didn't come here to fight, we came to talk." Brund kept his eyes trained on Honmund the entire time as they locked horns. "Then why does your leader here look so ready to fight, eh?" "Because Honmund is no fool. He knows that the only thing a man like you respects is strength. If he backed down, you'd just attack us sooner. We've come here to talk. We can be of some use to you..." Brund stood there in silence for a while, still staring at Honmund while grasping his weapon firmly in his hands. "That true, boy? You and your little band wish to speak?" Honmund stood up straight now and sheathed his axe on his back. "Quite. I have a proposition for you that I'm sure you'll be interested in. We came here to make sure you didn't take our fort, since we're not enemies." "Then what about the missing shipment and the missing soldiers, eh?" said Brund. "Wasn't us. We simply wiped out the bandit gang that did it and we held onto it so that other bandits wouldn't take it. The shipment is in our fort. You can have it if you agree to stand down and hear what it is that I have to say." said Honmund. Brund's adrenaline was still going and he wanted nothing more then to order the attack and continue as planned, but the situation wasn't a good one to do so, and it was clear that they weren't enemies after all. Brund finally sheathed his hammer to his men's great relief and surprise. "Fine, then lets talk. What is it that you want?" Honmund signaled for him and Aenin to follow him away from their men to speak in private. "What I am offering is very simple." said Honmund. "I will offer my forces to the service of Ulfric Stormcloak, and by extension, you. But in exchange I want your help in gaining some sort of position of power here in Skyrim. See? I have a lot of men here at my disposal and the force is still growing. We aren't common bandits as I'm sure you can tell. We are a band of warriors who seek to earn our position like the nords of old once did." Brund looked at the force to the side of them and thought about the possibilities that was now open with all the extra man-power. "Yes, this is good. With this, I can finally do something that could put me up against Red-Snow. How about this? Falkreath is in need of a Jarl right now. You take your forces and join them with mine and we start a campaign on the Forsworn of the Reach. We wipe them out or push them out of Skyrim, or at least try to. Either way, their numbers will greatly dwindle and things for Markarth will improve. After that, I convince Ulfric to make you a thane. Then, maybe we can see about making you a Jarl. But I don't know you and I certainly don't trust you. This is all hypothetical. You show me you're serious and I'll agree." "To the point, like myself. I like it. As for showing you I am serious, I don't see how I can prove that more than I already have. Here's what I'll do. I'll have my men at first do most of the heavy lifting in this war on the forsworn. Will that show you I am serious?" Honmund stuck out his hand for Brund to take. Brund stared at it for a moment, but all he saw was Baldur, bowing his head to him in defeat as he was proclaimed High General. Brund quickly took Honmunds hand and started grinning slowly and heavily. "He..he...he. Deal. Let's move out to Markarth and start setting up shop." As Brund walked off to start ordering his men to move, the skies started to move on as well, carrying the storm and it's grumbling further on, as if in disappointment and to seek battle elsewhere. Brund looked up and grinned at the sky. "Don't worry, mother. You'll soon see blood. Just not yet." ********* Some time later arriving in Markarth. "So, what exactly so you have against General Red-Snow?" said Honmund. "You show great disdain for the man." "He's an upstart, like yourself. Sees himself as Ysgramor and walks around like it is HE that is High King. Ulfric acts like he's his son or something, which is stupid as shit since he's only like ten or fifteen years older than the damn man. Desperate for an heir I suppose. Anyway, he's soft. Pals around with the men, sings songs, got married in the middle of a war...And that's what he's preoccupying himself with right now. Him and his precious Admiral. He helped me get this position, but don't let it fool you, it is simply to make himself look better. Any success I have, he can piggy back off of by saying that's the reason why he promoted me. I know it. All I have to do is perform better than he does and work harder and Ulfric will see I am the one who should be High General." "Sounds like a lot of jealousy for no reason. He's done nothing to you and even got you a position it seems you'd never reach yourself." said Honmund. "NEVER REACH MYSELF? I was killing men while you were still swimming in your father's sack, boy! I was a Legate at the age of twenty six! Twenty ******* six! I know how to lead men, I've been doing it for most of my life, yet Red-Snow whose only been in the Stormcloaks for a few years is already a General? That is absurd! If I didn't know any better, I'd say he and Ulfric are crossing swords!" "And yet he managed to stop the elite wolf pack of the Imperial legion in a few days and end the war with the Empire in a few weeks. Hardly sounds like someone undeserving of the job." Honmund was starting to think that he struck up a deal with the wrong man. Brund was showing signs of being unstable, and his jealousy of General Red-Snow was borderline obsessive. And from the stories Aenin told him about Brund during the Great War... "Shut your damn mouth! I have credentials as well from during the Great War, but because I don't get on my knees in Ulfric's private quarters, Bald-" Brund suddenly shut his mouth as they approached the city of Markarth as he saw a group of fifty soldiers before him approaching Markarth as well. They were Necro Nords. Brund ran forward and stood in front of them before they could go on. "Fellow Necro Nords! State your business here!" "We're here on orders from the General, sir." said the soon to be guard Captain. "What do you mean "the" General? Baldur? Baldur isn't the only damn General in the Stormcloak army! Now state your business!" "My apologies, General Hammer-Fang. General Red-Snow ordered us here to bolster Markarth's defenses against the Forsworn officially, and unofficially to take control of the city guard. There was an incident that apparently almost cost him his life as well as the Admiral's. A corrupt guard Captain here was looking to cover up the actions of himself and his involvement with the previous Jarl and poisonings. He doesn't think the Jarl can control his men, so we're doing it for him." Honmund shook his head in disapproval as he listened to the conversation. Brund's jealousy oozed out everywhere. This man he could tell wasn't fit to run the entire Stormcloak army. And associating with him may be counter productive. He needed to speak to Red-Snow. He was the key to obtaining power here in Skyrim, if what Brund said about his Admiral wife is true. "So Baldur was here?" asked Brund. "Do you know where he is going now?" "I don't know. Ulfric said he requested to keep his current location and all destinations unknown." Honmund stepped forward now to speak to the two. "Brund, I need to speak with Ulfric Stormcloak sooner rather than later anyway about our deal. I'll leave my men here under command of my second." "Got it, boss." said Aenin. "I was speaking of Frei. Since when did I ever consider you my second?" said Honmund to Aenin who was now grumbling to himself. "Anyway, you may find your Red-Snow there. He is a General after all. He can't stay from there for too long unless he's on official business, which I'm sure right now he is not." Brund started rubbing his chin while he thought on it a moment, then finally agreed. "Ok, then. I will have my men stay here under the authority of the Captains." Brund pointed a finger at the man who was to be the new guard captain. "You since you are the new leader here and since you are of Captain rank in the Necro Nords, you will run things while I am gone. Your mission is to start warring with the forsworn. Establish a perimeter and start searching out every hell hole that they can be hiding in! Kill them, but take prisoners if they surrender. Stick 'em in Cidhna Mine. If the Forsworn want their people back, they'll need to leave our land. Dismissed!" I know what you're doing, Baldur. You're trying to pull a fast one and steal that position from under my nose. I didn't buy that bull Stone-Fist gave when he said you didn't want it, and I still don't now. I'm coming to Solitude whether you're there or not. One way or another, Ulfric should be impressed with the army I just had dropped in my lap.

Skjari Imperial City Noon The heat from the forge could be felt in the air and the clank of of metal being hammered echoed through the smithy. The smithy and the store next to it was in fact one large room, the only thing separating the two were one large counter and a small wall to it's left. In the store side of the room were display cases to show off the finest weapons and armor. In the smithy could the forge be seen with two anvils next to it and metal bars lying around in neat and organized piles. One imperial was hammering away at one of the anvils, he didn't seem that old and was probably the apprentice of the large nord standing before Skjari at the counter. That nord had large brown beard to accompany his somewhat short hair, though not as short as the average imperial, his looks strongly reminding that of a bear. "Silver plates shackles?" The nord bear said with a deep voice, sounding curious and slightly disbelieving. "And I also need these runes carved into them." Skjari said as he gave the man a folded piece of paper. "Going to study werewolves hey?" The bear sounded sounded amused. "You wizards and your damn lust to research everything. Heh." "Something like that. But I'd rather not go into it." Skjari replied while trying to not sound too dismissive. "And I'd rather not ask too much of it anyway. I hope you know what you are doing though, werewolves are dangerous. Anyway, I should have them done in a week. You want delivered or pick them up yourself?" "Put them in a package and I'll pick them up myself." Skjari then walked out the door and into the streets where he was met with the humming of the city and the sunlight that managed to squeeze through the clouded sky. As he passed a corner he noticed a man, a bald breton, speaking to the crowd, no one tried to pay him much attention as the man sounded mad in both voice and the content of his preaching. "This world is not real. For we are just puppets, PUPPETS of the GREAT PUPPETEERS! They pull the string of what happen in this world. They dictate our fates. Some of us are favored by them, these FAVORED PUPPETS are more carefully controlled by the GREAT PUPPETEERS than the others. We are..." The man was then interrupted by a couple of guards grabbing both his arms and accusing him of disturbing the peace and scaring people with his ramblings. The mad man proceeded to scream that the guards were just following the will of the "great puppeteers" as he was hauled off towards the prison. Skjari found the scene a bit amusing and slowed down to watch a little but as the guards dragged the man away he continued down the streets back to the palace. In front of the palace, a crowd of people were gathering to hear yet another person preach in the street. This individual was more successful in gaining people's attention than the other speaker who was hauled away. The speaker here was a young Imperial man with a legion sword at his side, and judging from his posture he had been in the military. He wore a full suit of plated armor with a symbol of Stendarr on the chest piece, but he had it painted a silvery white. A silvery white that still managed to shine brightly even thought the sun was covered by the clouds. The man looked at the crowd of people with smiling pleading eyes that said he just genuinely wanted to help. Skjari's pace slowed down to a crawl, mostly because the crowd blocked his way, and watched the man, hoping that the guards would carry him off too. "People. My people. People of Cyrodiil and this wonderful Empire. I...am Gladius. Our legion is supposed to spread our great Empire's virtues, especially to the savages to the north. But of course, what is to expect when we have so many of them within our legion as well? So I left. And the Vigilant of Stendarr that seeks to bring peace and justice to this world are just too passive. So I didn't stay. Once again, based in the land of savages. Stay among the monkeys and you're bound to start throwing feces. So now, I am here today to help each and every one of you see the light myself, since no one else will." Gladeus walked up to the crowd who all had books in their hands. One book in particular in fact... When he got to the crowd from atop of the steps that he was standing from to look over them, he grabbed a book from a woman's hands after asking very politely if he could do so and saying to have a Divine day. "This book, my countrymen... This book is the very symbol of decadence in the Empire! This "Sons of Skyrim" by Magdela Bathory. Have any of you fine people had the chance to read this book yet? No? Then please, do yourselves a favor and return this trash! It's the very source of our problems! The author is an Imperial woman, yet this story speaks of a Skyrim victory, even before their independence was accepted! The author is anti Empire, and she is helping to spread the influence of those savages to our fair corner of Tamriel! Is it any wonder? She pro Thalmor before our new Empress came into power! See? Anyone who opposes or works to weaken Cyrodiil she favors! Not surprising that a whore like her would be a traitor." Gladeus's voice while loud was also soft spoken and charming, not zealous like the other speaker. The man was only in his early twenties, but he had the tone of a father figure that helped to sway those he spoke to. "Have any of you actually been to Skyrim?" The crowd started speaking in low tones amongst themselves, most of them shaking their heads as they did. Gladeus continued. "Well let me tell you something about those barbarians. The first thing I'll tell you is a common misconception is that those heathens don't bathe, they all have wild unkempt hair, they spit and blow their noses in the same buckets they wash from and so on. But it is not so! Nay, the northern men are more cunning than you think! They actually in fact bathe quite often. At least once a week. Once a week! And they make sure that they wash their hands and faces...in the morning...before they eat...after they eat...and just before bedtime again! That is the common folk's custom! Now you may be saying...what's wrong with that? What's wrong with that? Why, not even our prostitutes bathe that much! And don't think for a second that they are any better than prostitutes, with their over-cleanliness. You'd think that with that kind of bathing, they'd have better table manners like in Cyrodiil. Do you know that they play with their food and horse around at the table, breaking plates and singing obscene ballads while being so far down their tankards of mead that they can't even remember what they had for supper the next day? Half their damn food ends up being stored in their beards! No wonder they wash their hands so much! It's ridiculous! But that isn't the only reason for it. Let me tell you a little story and show you the true reason these heathens bathe so much. I was married before. A fair imperial woman I met in Skyrim. I met her in the vigil. We were just newly married, and we had not yet consummated our love. Well, one day I walked into the tavern room I was staying in and what do I see? I see a window, opened. I see sheets sticking out of it tied up in a makeshift rope. I see a hairy long blonde haired man in my bed looming over the love of my life, just...just...slamming her and..." Gladeus started shedding a tear, but he quickly wiped it away. "These nords comb their hair every day, wash their hair every day and bathe at least once a week for the sole purpose of attracting women and violating the domain of lady Mara herself! And this book is filled with the glorification of these heathens! Glorifying this savage nord military leader and his lover while they do these...things in the middle of a damned war! These are the people that Magdela Bathory is promoting! The Empress as well! If you let them, it'll be YOUR wives being swayed next! It'll be YOUR ears filled with the savage moaning and loud creaking of your lovers with these men in your bed! These people who groom themselves more than Cyrodiili prostitutes! If the Empress and Magdela Bathory had their way, the nords will be taking over this wonderful land of ours! They'll be climbing in your windows, snatching your women up, trying to screw them, so you better hide your daughters and hide your wives, because those nords will be screwing EVERYONE out here! If we dont do....something....anything...." Gladeus walked up into the crowd and gave the woman her book back. The woman just happened to be one of Skjari's very own maids, but judging from her expression, handsome well groomed men climbing through her window all the time sounded like heaven. "My fair lady, does this not bother you? Do you not care about the sanctity of marriage? I do, which is why I've been saving myself for when I find my true love. You, would you not rather have a man care for you, and only you? Treat you as someone special? To love and care for you, or would you rather be treated like some common whore?" The maid glanced around, as if she was looking to see if anyone she knew saw her. She quickly shook her head as she lowered it and shed a tear. Gladeus smiled and grabbed her hand and gently kissed it. "I think you are special, which is why I think you shouldn't read trash like this, fair lady. You like myself are above this..." At Gladeus's words and charming voice, the maid threw down the book and stomped it after spitting on in. Gladeus stuck out his hand, and the maid took it and followed him back up to the top of the stairs so that he could look over his growing crowd. The maid had her arm wrapped around his as he spoke. This caused Skjari to stop fully as he watched from the outskirt of the crowd. His face got a hint of annoyance as the maid grabbed the knights arm. He subtly summoned a couple of the creeps of Namira, wicked looking little insect-like creatures, that unnoticeable crawled down from his boots and onto the ground, through the crowd towards the white knight. But then the knight spoke up again. "My friends! Don't let these people unleash the promiscuity of the north upon our land! Don't let Ulfric Stormcloak, that monster win even more than what he already has! I was in Skyrim, so I know! That monster tortures Dunmer civilians and he murdered their King for no good reason besides a desire for power! Those Stormcloaks go around raping anyone they want, just like the incident in Whiterun! They're doing it right now! And these are the people that our Empress has allied with? These are the people that Magdela Bathory glorify in this book of filth, sex, sex, more sex and Nord decadence? Is their any wonder that even our Empress has been rumored to whore around with other women? Where do you think she gets it from? You think it's a coincidence that those two have been seen together? Ha! No. How else can you explain her allying with a man like Ulfric Stormcloak? A man who butchers people who don't stand up and fight for his cause, and doesn't allow khajiits and argonians in his cities? The man is a racist! A racist bigoted moron who couldn't lead his way out of a paper bag! His latest General even starved the citizens of Falkreath and only allowed people who joined their militia to eat! Ulfric Stormcloak is the harbinger of chaos and the bringer of debauchery my people. Don't let our Empress and her ties lead you down this path, or we'll all be sharing our beds with nord men, eating broth with our fingers drunk off our asses while they violate our wives! Please, my fellow citizens of the Empire, don't let Ulfric Stormcloak take Cyrodiil from us. Don't l-" Suddenly Gladeus's expression changed from pleading to confused. His hand started patting furiously at his armor, and he started twitching all over. A small smile crept up in the right corner of his mouth at the sight. The maid holding on to him quickly let go and put her hands on his breast plate while shaking him and asking what was the matter. Gladeus pushed her back, and the maid tripped backwards and fell down the stairs, and Skjari's smile faded. The people let out a scream as they rushed to her side. Gladeus then backed away as he started twitching and running around trying to get his armor off. The onlookers were very confused and people started talking frantically, wondering what the hell was going on. "Help me, something's in my armor! Something's in my armor!" Nobody came however, fearing that whatever was wrong with him would somehow catch on them. Gladeus ran around in a circle, hopping and twitching and a lot of the people wondered if he was mad. Gladeus grew increasingly desperate and drew his imperial sword. When he started smacking himself with it in his mad frantic dance, everyone in the crowd dispersed and called the guards immediately. Skjari used the opportunity and quickly walked forward through the dissipating mass. His size helped with keeping people to see him and from running into him as he made his way towards the stairs. The guards weren't very far away and were watching the spectacle in disbelief. One of them tried telling him to sheathe his weapon, but Gladeus's screams were too loud and they wouldn't cease. He just kept running around swinging his sword like a thing possessed and occasionally smacked at himself some more. When Skjari reached the stairs he saw the maid lying near the bottom of them, she didn't move and had blood on her forehead. The crowd had withdrawn to a what they apparently deemed a safe distance. Skjari crouched by the maid, put his hand to her mouth and nose, she was still breathing. He started casting a healing spell while sending a quick glance at the knight and couldn't help but to smile that devious and almost unnoticeable smile again. Eventually the guards took a chance and four of them tackled him to the ground. Gladeus didn't stop however and he persisted in his flaying, kicking and screaming. The guards made him drop his sword when he was tackled to the ground, so Gladeus bit off one of the guard's ears so he could escape the pile and start hitting at his armor once again. The guard sat on the ground holding his ear screaming, and the others reacted accordingly by drawing their swords and separating Gladeus's head from his body. His now lifeless body kept on twitching for a while before it finally ceased it's movement. The blood on the maids forehead disappeared inside the wound as it closed. After that and dealing with any internal injuries she opened her eyes and looked at Skjari. She looked ashamed as she saw him and turned her gaze away from him. And when he helped her get back on her feet her gazed remained on the ground. "Come on, lets get back to the palace." Skjari said in a soft tone as he put his arm around her and led her to the palace. Her gaze turned to the book that lied on the ground, dirtied and ruined. She stopped as she looked at with a some sadness in her eyes. "Let it lie. I can get you a new copy." She stood still for a second but then let them continue back to the palace. When they finally got back into the palace the maid had lost her ashamed look and now looked at him with a mischievous smile and lust in her eyes. Skjari couldn't say a word of this before she spoke. "To Oblivion with that knight. Lets have some fun." Then she quickly took the lead as she almost literally dragged him to the closest empty bedchamber in the palace, which also happened to be the empress bedchamber. Dales herself was holding court in the throne room and would never know what had happened here.

Imperial City evening Telendro’s eyes roved around the room and came to rest on a tall blonde woman surrounded by a small group of men. She wore a dress of dark brown velvet that left one arm exposed. A diamond hung between her breasts on a gold chain so fine, the stone seemed to float. In one hand was a drink with which she gestured at people as she talked and laughed. There may have been a more beautiful woman than Magdela Bathory at the gathering of artists and intellectuals, but all around the room, eyes turned to look at her. It wasn’t just the countess’ beauty that drew their eyes. She radiated sensuality, and something else. At home in Telendro’s solarium, he grew mostly orchids and other curiosities. A collector herself, Bathory had been to see them more than once. Now as the old Altmer observed her, he was reminded of a rare flower that looked much like the other orchids around it, delicate and beautiful. This one gave off a faint scent much like rotting meat, attracting small insects, which it then devoured as nourishment. He doubted very much that anyone paying court to Lady Bathory tonight knew what she really was. Telendro himself didn’t know for sure, but he suspected. She was like that flower. His eyes and thoughts had moved elsewhere when the countess herself stood before him with a delighted smile. “Magistrate, how have you been keeping yourself?†“My lady.†Telendro bowed stiffly. “Very well, thank you.†“Have you seen Vesta’s hothouse? Not as fine as yours, but she has some interesting specimens. Come, I’d like to show you.†The Altmer was about to decline when he caught Bathory’s expression. His pulse quickened. “Very well.†The small hothouse was down a winding garden path. Magdela took his arm and walked slowly with him, chatting of petty gossip. Inside, hot stones powered by magic puffed steam into the air, warming the delicate flowers and trees. Stopping by a miniature palm, the countess turned to face him. Telendro felt a reflexive twinge in his groin, and for a moment could almost picture those shapely limbs writhing beneath him. Even at his age, he would have jumped at the chance. Then she spoke. “How goes your progress on the Kvatch matter?†“Ah. Countess. It’s as I told your father, the papers are all in order. I’ve been over and over them. There were no mistakes, there are no forgeries. The former count applied for the city charter and was granted it under the late Emperor Mede. It was all proper.†Maggie’s eyes glinted in the dim light. “Then I suggest you go over them again.†“My lady...†Telendro stopped. The twinge in his groin was now a faint nausea. He ran long fingers, knobbed from years of holding a quill, through his hair. “I suppose... I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to look again.†“No. That could never hurt, could it?†“But what if I... Very well, my lady. If that is all, I’ll return to the party.†“Don’t take me for being ungrateful, Telendro, it’s just that I fear my brother may have moved up our timeline somewhat by his forwardness. We need that charter annulled. I’ll be sending you an assistant to help with it.†“An assistant?†“Fanis has, shall we say, specialized talents. He’s very good with documents.†She paused for emphasis. “With producing particular documents that may be needed.†The Altmer’s mouth twitched. He had not found any forgeries, so he would be forced to make one. There was nothing he could say. They didn’t accept excuses, these people. The command was given and you did it. Bathory crossed over to a low-hanging flower and brushed her fingers over it. “There is another matter I wished to discuss with you. You made an application to the city watch to look into disappearances in the Imperial Prison. Tell me about them.†How did she know? How did they always know? “Yes, my lady. I get dockets on my desk for pending trials, but the prisoners never appear. They can’t be accounted for. No signs of escape, no bodies. Strangely, they are all elves.†Her eyes turned back to him. “Anything else?†“The guards reported sometimes seeing a strange man entering the prison on nights that prisoners disappeared. He was tall, wearing a dark cloak, but no one can remember seeing his face.†Another silence. Finally the countess smiled, crossed over and took his arm. “I think you are working too hard, Magistrate. You know as well as I do that imperial justice has its own ways of dealing with the dangerous and unwanted who might get off on a technicality. The guards have obviously made up this story about a faceless man to cover for their own indiscretions.†“But...†The hand on his arm tightened, almost imperceptibly. “You have enough on your desk to be worrying about a few wayward prisoners. There will be nothing more said on the matter, are we clear? Nothing said to anyone.†After a pause, she went on, “You do remember the sacrifices that were made to keep you safe in this city? When the Thalmor presented their lists to the imperial government of Altmer they wanted turned over, your name was never on them. Can you even comprehend what was required to accomplish that? We are your friends, Magistrate, but friendship cannot only go one way." The magistrate answered in a whisper. “I understand. Perfectly.†How could he not? This had been his life for longer than many imperial citizens had been alive. At home, Telendro lay awake staring at the ceiling until the sun’s light slanted in his windows and fell across his face. Towards midday, he got out of his bed, dressed and went to the solarium. One by one, he watered the orchids, repaired their stakes, and tidied their leaves. When he was satisfied, he took a chair, slung a rope from the ceiling beam, coiled a loop in it, and put the loop around his neck. The afternoon sun glinted golden through the windows and traced patterns on the floor, marking where his shadow twitched and then swung gently silent.

Person: ??? Location: ??? Time: ??? A lone figure walked through a forest that was unnaturally still. It was nighttime, but there were no moons in the sky, only a uniform canopy of blue and purple light with star-like pinpoints. The man was dressed in leathers with a dark cloak slung over his shoulders, and was bent slightly under the weight of a large pack. He had light brown hair, dagger shorn, and a hint of mustache but no beard. The soft clank of metal against metal could be heard as he walked. His path seemed to be aimless, and occasionally he would stop to look around, appearing perplexed and anxious. When the man saw another figure approach, he diverted his steps to meet him. "Excuse me, friend. I'm looking for my wife. Have you seen her?" The man that he spoke to was clad in large silver armor, well crafted and ornamented with bear fur around his collar. The man had a black cape with a silver bear insignia on his back and two expertly crafted nordic carved axes. The large dark blonde haired man addressed the traveler with a voice that showed a state of urgency. "No I don't think I have. I'm looking for my wife too. Her name is Rebec. Have you seen her? Where am I? This place...it seems familiar." The other figure's eyebrows shot up. For a minute he didn't say anything, then recognition seemed to dawn. In a less friendly tone he asked, "Who are you?" "I am Baldur Red-Snow. I'm a general in the Stormcloak army." Baldur looked to the figure in front of him suspiciously. He didn't like the way that he was looking at him and he was getting worried for Rebec. "Who are you? And have you seen my wife or not? I don't have time to talk with you unless you have. Hurry up!" "A general?" The man sounded surprised, and started to smile, but it soon faded. "I don't know where she is or why you're here. This is Sovngarde, or somewhere close to it. Something's changed, but I don't know what. I thought Rebec might be trying to reach the hall and couldn't find it. She never could get her bearings on land." "Sov-...no. No, no this can't be. This can't be! I can't be dead, I can't! I need to get back to her!" Baldur put a hand to his forehead as his face grimaced in pain. But not physical pain. He started thinking about how it could be that he died, but nothing came up. "Wait, I've been here before without dying. But I was close. Am I dreaming? And...and..." Baldur's face straightened out when he realized he wasn't dead after all. It just dawned on him that the man knew who Rebec was. Baldur glared as fiercely as he possibly could at the man in front of him as he spoke. "If I'm back in Sovngarde, and you know who Rebec is...and you were looking for your "wife"...tell me. Is your name Toki Pot-Banger?" The man laughed grimly. "The gods are playing a trick on us, Baldur Red-Snow. I asked leave to look for Rebec and they send me her new husband instead. How is it you've been here before?" Baldur didn't find it worth laughing about at all, and he cursed the gods at that moment for doing so. His facial expression didn't change as he spoke. "A big ass arrow in the back. Almost killed me sometime during the war. After Ulfric took Skyrim." Baldur narrowed his eyes as he focused everything on Toki. "What business do you have with my wife?" "My wife, you mean?" Toki crossed his arms, looking Baldur up and down. "It's like I told you. I could tell something had changed. I felt like she might be looking for me and lost somewhere. If Rebec calls you husband these days, did she find out what happened to me? Maybe I shouldn't ask such questions, but since you're here, you might as well answer them." Baldur unsheathed his axe and let his arm rest at his side. "Lets get something straight right now. She is not your wife. She is MY wife. Even before she gave herself to me and vice versa, you lost the privilege to call her that a LONG time ago. Yea, she knows what happened to you. I helped her recover your remains and avenge your death. Silver tooth or whatever is dead. You should see him up here by now." "He's not, but I'm not surprised. That one had no honor. Rebec killed him? I was afraid he'd catch up to her sooner or later." Uncrossing his arms, Toki parted his cloak and rested his hands on his belt, then gestured with his head at Baldur's axe. "What do you think you're going to do with that, Stormcloak? I'm already dead. If Reb gave you the right to call her wife, I got no argument with that, but she did the same to me once." "I may not be able to kill you, but I can take all the pain that she had to deal with in her life alone for so long and take it out on your ass. And I'm very very tempted to do so. Best part about this place is when you die, you just come back." Baldur's breathing was steadily growing heavier, but he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to settle his anger. Finally Baldur sheathed his axe and continued to speak. "You may have been her husband once, in name, but in practice you stopped being that. I am the one who stands by her side no matter where she goes. I am the one who comforts her when she hurts. And when she hurts, I hurt. How could you? How could you just let her go without you? You didn't care that she was with other men before! You didn't care that when she crashed her ship, she was stuck in a damn skooma den! You didn't stay by her side and comfort her when she LOST HER ******* CHILD! So why the hell should you have the right to still call her wife?!? Tell me that Pot-Banger!" Toki stared hard at Baldur. There was surprise in his expression, but no anger. He seemed to be thinking about what he'd heard. Finally he said, "I've had a lot of time to think about all of that. Maybe that's why I'm not allowed to see her now. Maybe this is some kind of punishment, listening to you talk about things you know nothing about. I wonder how much you know Rebec, though, if you don't know the answers to those questions." Baldur crossed his arms and sighed. "I know what she'd say. She did already. She'd tell me that she wanted to be free and not be held down. She'd say that you did care in your own way or some such crap. I didn't believe it when she said it then and I don't believe it now. I don't think she even believes it. Not really. I know she is a very independent person, but I also know that despite that, she tried to be a wife anyway. The child's death pushed you apart. I get it. But if it were me, I wouldn't let that get in the way. I'd stay by her side, and I will do that now if our child to be suffers the same fate. You could have at least tried to hold on to her. But you didn't. Bad circumstances or no, you had your chance in her life. It's done. To be honest, you two never should have been married in the first place. You think I know nothing about it. That's exactly what your mother told me before I set things straight with her as well. You know what I think? I think I know more about it than you want to believe. And it hurts you. As it should." "You've got it all figured out, then." Toki's voice did register anger now, and some sarcasm. "You with your soldier swagger. Want to know what I think? I think it kills you that I had her first. Reb wanted to go her own way and I let her. If I'd have tried to follow her around wherever she went, she'd just have gotten in that ship and gone further. If she lets you follow her, it's because that's what she wants now. And that..." He stopped, and sighed. "That's not easy to hear." Baldur chuckled now and allowed himself to smile. "Ah, so you do have a pair. Good, my wife didn't marry a toothless pup. No, you having her first doesn't bother me. At least not anymore. It's not your name she calls when we're together. You being her first love on the other hand, yea that gets under my skin. Not because you were with her first, but because someone who claims to love her should have done better for her. You loved the same woman that I do so you and I should be able to understand each other. Yet we are complete opposites. You say she would have just sailed further? Then you should have ended the marriage. But what I think is that is a fallacy. A lie that you tell yourself when you think back and wonder the same thing I do when you think about how you failed her when she lost her child. It's a lie she tells herself to save putting the blame where it belongs. You were her husband, Toki. Surely you think you should have at least tried. She already told me that if you stayed by her side, she probably wouldn't have wandered. She needed to be comforted. She needed support. She didn't find it in you, so she buried her pain and found it in sailing, drink and other men. That is on you, Toki Pot-Banger. You know my words to be true." "Let me guess. You're newly married, aren't you? The world seems like a new place. You look at her and can't get enough of her looking at you. She says your name and it's like you could fly to Sovngarde and back on the thrill alone." He had a knowing smile. "It was like that for us once, too. Why didn't I just give her up? Would you, if she came back to you and gave you that smile that made everything better?" Holding out a calloused, work-worn finger, Toki said, "And don't you talk about our child. I can tell by the sound of your voice and the look in your eye, that's a path you haven't walked. I hope you never do." Baldur took a step to him as he pointed. "If it were me, she wouldn't need to come back in the first place. She'd be with me always. I'll never abandon her. I don't know what it's like to have a child yet, but I feel the pain of losing one all too well." Baldur closed his eyes and tried to hold back tears but couldn't. "I don't know what it's like to have something so small and precious cling to you in pure love. To know that you are it's life giver. I don't know that feeling, but the pain, I feel it even as you and I speak. Through Rebec. That child is a part of Rebec, and she is a part of me. My best friend who I call brother married recently as well. A fierce warrior, the fiercest. His wife had a child and he loves her as if she was her own. Do you know why? Because she's the child of his wife. So when she told me finally that she had a kid that died, I felt a multitude of emotions all at once. Pain for Rebec and pain for Jala were the most acute. As far as I'm concerned, her loss is my loss as well. Your loss is my loss. You wonder how I can speak of such things when I didn't experience them first hand, well that is why. You wonder how I can say so surely that I wouldn't leave Rebec, well that is because our love is different from yours. It isn't at all the same, so don't try to compare your experience with mine. She doesn't make me feel like the world is a new place. She is my world. I couldn't bare to think about her being out of my life even for a second. We've fought together, almost died together, and we've felt the pain of almost losing each other when I was captured by Thalmor. You can't relate to me. Our bond is something else entirely than newly weds. She's not just my new wife. She's my life, my everything. She's changed me on so many levels, and I've changed her. We are destined to be together. We understand and love each other on a level no one else will ever understand. I'll do anything, kill anyone to make sure she stays with me forever." Toki's hand fell and he looked silently at Baldur a long moment. "Then I suppose that is what the gods brought me here to hear. You can't know what Rebec and I had, because that's for us alone and not even the gods can take that away. You may think you understand, but you don't. You'll never know another person as much as that. Maybe the gods brought you here to hear this, Baldur Red-Snow. Don't think you own her, and don't think you understand everything about her, because you never will." He turned away, but didn't leave, only looked at the false sky. After some minutes he turned back. "Still, I can see you're a lot closer to it than I was. I have no rights to Rebec. I never did. I was just privileged to be with her a while. If she's happy with you, then I'm happy. You're still young in your ways and you've got a big mouth, but you wouldn't have come to Sovngarde and back if you weren't a strong man. I'll rest easier in my time here knowing she's with you and happy. Tell her that, will you? Tell her..." He paused. "No. No, better not. Let her forget me, if she can." "I'll tell her anyway, Toki. As I said, she is a part of me. She loved you once. You were important in her life, which is why I care so much about your marriage with her. I don't want to take away what you had. I don't need to. What we have is stronger, and anyway it makes her who she is. And we'll have a child of our own and I'll know her even more. Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I'll never completely understand her. But I know her better than you or anyone else does. I know her better than even she knows herself. The same can be said for her in relation to me. You say I don't own her, and you're right. You know why? Because it's impossible to own something that has equal rights to you. She is mine and I am equally hers. That, Toki is something you will never understand. But if there is anything I can take from this, it's that you didn't just not care about her. You screwed up. But it wasn't all your fault. I can see that now. If I can see that I'm sure you can see where you were at fault as well." Toki chuckled drily. "Better than you. I always thought Sovngarde would be about the best mead and the best songs. It's about seeing yourself with no illusions, but also seeing that even the worst there is is not all there is. I've had nothing but time to think on my faults and failings, and I'll have more, but that's as it should be. It all is as it should be. I thank you for showing me that, Baldur Red-Snow, even if it was just the salt on your boasting. You think you're a better man than me, and a better husband, then learn from my mistakes. I don't mind. You'll have plenty enough of your own to make." Baldur's facial expression softened against his will and was forced to crack a smile. Laugh even. Baldur walked up to Toki and stuck out his hand. "Ain't that the truth. I suppose it's hard to forget you aren't perfect when you have someone that sees you that way. Look, I may never forgive you for the way things turned out. I suppose that's natural. But maybe I can...ease off your back a bit. Stop telling her you didn't care. That isn't true and telling her her first love didn't care for her wouldn't help her pain either. Losing a child isn't easy. So I guess you can say I already have made some mistakes. And...maybe I can help you get past Tsun when it's my turn to come here, eh? Just as long as you understand when we come to Sovngarde, she'll still be with me." Toki looked at the hand at first, but didn't hesitate long before taking it. He grinned. "We'll see about that. She's a lot of woman to hold on to, Red-Snow, and you talk a big game. I'll believe it when I see it." Releasing Baldur's hand, he stepped off a little, still awkward and not very happy with Shor for sending him out here just for this. Even if Rebec had only yelled at him, that would have been infinitely preferable. Welcome, even. In fact he'd have given anything just to be yelled at by her again. After a pause he said, "So you saw my ma? Don't expect you got asked to stay for dinner." "Yea, well you said it yourself. I have a big mouth. Especially when it comes to Rebec. Believe it or not when insults are traded or war is had, I'm usually cooler than a frost troll's ass. But when it comes to Rebec...I don't know. All that goes out the window. You know, I even defended you in that conversation. Partly." Shaking his head, Toki snorted in disbelief. "She still going on about me? The whole ungrateful son routine. Heard it a dozen times if I heard it one. Funny thing is, the more I went to see her, the louder she said it. I love my ma, but the woman hasn't got a lick of sense in her head." He seemed a little more at ease, commiserating with Baldur about a common problem. Hesitating, Toki then said softly, "You can tell Reb this, if you think the time is right. Jala's here, with me. Not in the way you see me standing here. She was too little for that. But I can feel her here and she can speak to me, in a certain way. She's at peace. She knew we loved her, and that we tried to do our best for her. That always ate me up inside, thinking in her short life she only knew pain in the world. It did the same for Rebec. But Jala does know. She loves her mama back. You tell Reb that." Baldur dropped some more tears as he smiled again. The thought was soothing. "I will. Anything to ease her pain. And mine. I just have to convince her somehow that this was real. And me. I don't know if she believes me or not when I told her I was here before. I was a bard before, you see. Exaggerating stories comes with the trade. Don't tell her I said that though. I always say my stories are one hundred percent true." "No, she probably won't believe you." He thought a moment, then said, "If you want to make sure she does, give her a blue mountain flower when you tell her. I used to bring them to her because the color reminded me of her eyes. Meanwhile Rebec had no use for flowers. She'd smile and take them, then throw them in her pack and they'd be crushed and rotten by the next day. Probably she's forgotten all about that." Grinning, Toki said, "A bard. Might have known that, from all your talking. I should tell you a wild story and not make you seem like a big hero who gets to come to Sovngarde whenever he pleases." "Hehehe, well I don't decide what the gods do for me. What can I say. I am glad they brought me here though. This was rather therapeutic. Getting to shout at you and all. That and seeing you for myself and seeing you did care helps. The thought that you were with her first and didn't care was worse than knowing you did. In fact I'm happy that you did. Nice touch on the blue mountain flowers by the way. I like that. I think I may take up that practice myself if you don't mind it." With a smug grin, Toki said, "Now who's the bard. You're welcome to do it, but don't be crushed if she's not impressed. And I'm glad I could oblige by being shouted at, I guess. If it helps Rebec... Wait, you thought I didn't care about her? Does she talk that badly about me?" "No no. She..." Baldur hesitated. He didn't want to tell him she barely mentioned him, so he figured it would be more merciful not to be completely honest. "When she does mention you, it's not in a bad way. That was just my judgement from the situation. Before I knew about the baby. I literally just found out about Jala. After that, I thought you were like your mother and just stopped caring after she failed to give you a healthy child. Even without this little meeting, with time I think I'd have figured it out eventually. I'm quick on the uptake. As for the flowers, even if she's not I'll do it anyway. She's not a flower loving girl, as you know. She's more of a battle trophy girl. I gave her a briar heart once and told her it reminded me of her because she stole my heart a long time ago. Not bad eh? I even picked it out myself. From a man's chest." Toki whistled. "A briarheart? Not easy to kill, those are." He stopped, grumbling a little internally. A fair warrior himself, he still probably couldn't compete with a general. He'd mostly talked his way out of fights, or avoided them. Not that it matters now. "I would never do that to Rebec. We were scared to be parents, but once I got used to the idea, there was nothing I wanted more. You can't know what it was like." He shook his head. "It was a bad time, and as soon as she could, Reb ran off back to her ship. She wouldn't let me talk about the baby at all. A forbidden subject. I just wanted her to be happy. I thought by giving her what she wanted... Well. We've established that I'm the biggest fool in Skyrim, or was. Don't let her do that to you. Sink that damn ship if you have to." Baldur thought back to how she reacted when he asked about kids and realized it made sense. Rubbing the back of his head, Baldur said, "You know that does sound like her. You have to really fight that one to get her to express herself. She's getting better at it though. When I tried asking her about kids, she ran out of our room. I had to run her down. That's how I found out about Jala. So yea I can see that now. She said she'd give up her sailing, but I plan on making us go every now and then for her sake. Don't you worry, if she wants to get away from me, she's gonna have to defeat the whole Stormcloak army to do so. As long as I don't do anything to hurt her and drive her away, I'll never let her go. And if I ever do, if I ever hurt her or lay with another woman, then I suppose she'll be with you in Sovngarde. Don't get your hopes up though. I'd rather chop my nethers than to ever do that to her." "Aha! See what I'm talking about, don't you." Toki gestured at Baldur with a lopsided smile. "That's my Rebec. Uh... I mean... Sorry. Habit." The toolsmith smiled again, then his voice fell off. In the pause he kicked at the ground, not really wanting the conversation to end, though he'd been cursing the gods about it just a short while before. Even if it wasn't what he expected, it was Rebec, or all that he had left of her. Finally he said, "I think I'm supposed to go back now. And you, Baldur Red-Snow, you've got somewhere to be. Staying here too long when you're not dead can't be good for you." He stepped forward to put out his hand again, and gripped Baldur's, leveling his gaze on him. "Hold on to her for all you're worth, Stormcloak. Like there won't be a next time. She's worth the tears and cursing. Gods know I found that out too late." Baldur smiled more willingly this time. It hadn't occurred to him that accepting Toki was ever an option. Once jealousy was cleared, it was easy to do. "You know, I didn't always hate you. It was only after that mother of yours started flying off the mouth and the news of the child that made me start thinking negatively of you. They wanted someone to blame, which was her, and I wanted someone to blame as well. Naturally and unfairly that fell to you. And I guess I may have exaggerated when I said I'd never forgive you." Baldur pulled Toki to him still holding his hand and gave him a pat on the back before breaking off. It wasn't easy for him to do, but he was glad he did. "You know us bards." "Bard." Toki grumbled and shook his head, not believing what Rebec had resorted to in his absence. It was good-natured, however. A weight had been taken off him that he hadn't realized was there, even in seeing his faults put plainly to him by another. There was some freedom in that. Mostly he felt relief that his beloved and his daughter's memory were safe with someone worthy of them both. "Get on with you then, Red-Snow. Don't know what you're doing here when you got that woman beside you." There wasn't anything left to say, so Toki turned and walked off the way he came, humming a little tune and clanking tools as he went. Baldur took a deep long breath and sighed as some of his burden was lifted. Not all, but some. He still had to deal with his jealousy of Toki, but it would leave in time. Or at least he'd learn to live with it. And he could better help Rebec's heart-ache heal now that he had some better insight and could focus on her more and his issues less. She still had the death of a child on her shoulders and the fate of another to worry about. It was a lot for Baldur to deal with. But as Toki said, the tears and cursing was worth it. "Uh, wait! Which way's the whalebone bridge?" Toki was too far off now to hear, so Baldur shrugged his shoulders and turned around to walk back where he came. When he did, his face hit something metal in front of him hard, and knocked him back to the ground. Baldur looked up as he rubbed his nose in pain. What stood before him was none other than Tsun, shield-thane of Shor. Baldur's nose had ran smack into his metal belt medallion. "RED-SNOW! You keep sneaking your way back up here and I may just make your stay a little more permanent!" "Damnit, that hurt you big bastard! You're pretty sneaky for being s-" "Nahl....Daal Vus!" (Living, Return, Nirn) Tsun interrupted his speech with the same booming thu'um from before to send him back to the land of the living. Once Baldur returned, Baldur's vision turned pitch black. He was back in the room sitting up in his bed, but his eyes weren't closed like before when he first went from resting. At once, a headache and heavy fuzzy eyes could be felt along with extreme fatigue and sleepiness. Baldur realized that he didn't close his eyes all night and that he fell asleep with his eyes open. Too many thoughts on his mind. He went to get up when he noticed that something was pressing on him. It was Rebec. He cradled her in his arms all night despite how tired he was and how uncomfortable it eventually got. Suddenly the events in his dream came rushing back to him all at once. He could recall every detail, every word that was said, just like before. He still didn't believe it was real, however. Not until he suddenly felt the dull pain on his nose. "But how? How could..." Before he could finish the thought, Rebec started moving to settle in his arms and accidentally elbowed him in the nose as she moved around to get comfortable again. Baldur despite the pain laughed with tears in his eyes. "Perhaps it was just a dream. Still, it helped a lot. I'll see what she thinks in the morning." Baldur's leg had started to fall asleep from the pressure of Rebec's body on him, but he didn't dare move, so as not to disturb her sleep. Baldur put the furs over them as he still sat up in the bed and forced himself to close his eyes. Hearing Rebec's gentle snoring and feeling her drool pool on his shirt strangely helped. And sleep soon came to him, finally. Rebec slept on, oblivious to Baldur's aetherial wanderings or his discomfort. It was Baldur's nearness and her emotional exhaustion that had let her sleep at all. Finally, she stirred and began to uncoil, wiping her mouth and groaning awake. Feeling her husband's warm weight next to her, she yawned and sat up, then suddenly tensed as the memories of the night before returned. She turned to look at him, her expression alarmed and vaguely guilty even through the puffy eyes. The pain at remembering her baby's death had been bad enough, but it was worse seeing how it hurt Baldur. Paralyzed, Rebec didn't even want to say "good morning." She was afraid that everything was different now. In the back of her mind was the fear that she'd see disappointment on his face. Baldur had had such nice dreams, such hopes for them both. Just by being who she was, she'd ruined them. He didn't deserve that. Baldur didn't stay asleep for too much longer due to her stirring. Thankfully the rest of his sleep was dreamless, and he wasn't so tired anymore when he awoke. When he did, he saw Rebec watching him as he woke. His dream earlier was nice, but now it was time for reality. Hopefully the dream would help with that, whether it was real or not. Baldur let out a long hard yawn, as if he had just rested after a day of hard labor. Putting a hand on Rebec's cheek, Baldur said, "What's the matter, love?" Biting her lip, Rebec tried to think what to say. Her normal inclination was to shrug everything off, but that didn't work with Baldur. She was on uncertain ground and her need for him had never felt more acute. "I was thinking..." Anything she could put next sounded dumb. Resting her head back where it had been on his chest, she tried again. "I was wondering what you were thinking. About... you know." Baldur ran his fingers through her hair and smelled her scent as he rested his eyes again. He felt it was best not to tell her about the dream until after he said what he needed to say. Which was the truth. The sooner he lay it out the better. Just as she did with him. He was still hurting enough for tears to run down his face, and he didn't try to hold them back. He knew he couldn't. "The first thing I want to say to you is despite everything, I feel no different about you then before. You are my world, Rebec. That said...I won't lie to you. I am upset. I just wish that you had told me about Jala sooner. Then I wouldn't have gotten my hopes up to be the first to give you a child. I just feel jealous I suppose, which is childish. Toki already was your first lover and your first husband, on top of being the first man you loved. I just clinged to the thought that I'd be the first to give you a child. There isn't anything I can really give you as a first now, but that doesn't matter I suppose. I still love you and I still look forward to us having a child. But that isn't the main reason I'm upset. The main reason I'm upset is because we went by all this time and I had no idea you were hurting inside. And now that I do, I feel like I lost a child. Everytime I think about her and the pain you must have felt, it's like daggers are in my chest. But I'm happy that I can share this pain with you anyway. I hope that you knowing it hurts me too will somehow help. I love you with every fiber in my body. Nothing will ever change that no matter what you do." Rebec glanced up once, saw that he was crying, and panicked, but laid her head back down and listened to him anyway. Tears tickled the corners of her eyes, too, but she held them back. When he was done, she sat up. "You don't think you're my first? Baldur, you're the only man I've ever felt this way about. It wasn't Toki's fault, I was just a stupid kid and hadn't grown up yet, and later there was too much between us for it to be better. You said you'd give me a second chance, but this feels like my first chance to have something real. A family." She wiped her eyes and reached up to wipe his cheek, the sight of his tears like a dagger in her gut. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I should have, you're right. I tried to warn you that you shouldn't marry me. You know why I couldn't, don't you? Sometimes I think it was some cursed dream I had. If I don't talk about it, it's like it never happened. I didn't realize how unfair it was to you til now." Baldur's tears after that were out of happiness than anything else, but he did feel guilt as well. Laughing slightly, Baldur said, "I feel really small and petty to feel better from you saying that. You don't seriously think I wouldn't marry you over this if you told me sooner, do you? And yea, I understand why you didn't. Telling your feelings isn't your strong suit. Let alone something so big." Rebec gave a cautious smile. "I'm glad you know, then. I always wanted to be so strong, and I thought I was, but you're right that it was too much for me to carry alone all this time. It's an emptiness no one can describe." She moved up so she could put her cheek against his, wanting to feel his arms around her. Voice muffled, she said, "You make everything better, Baldur. I couldn't bear to lose you. Don't you dare leave me." She turned to kiss his cheek and ear, and suddenly longed to be with him, if only to reassure herself. Taking his hand, she moved it to her breast and slid closer to him, bringing her kissing around to his mouth. Baldur wanted to mention the dream to her, but this moment was just too good. He was glad to see that even without the dream, whether it was real or not, things between them would still be as good as always. Baldur thought about breaking away to mention his late night encounter with the dead, but the tingling in his stomach from her touch made him powerless to do so. As she continued to kiss him, Baldur whispered in her ear. "Remember what I said back in Falkreath when I returned? No force on Tamriel, Nirn, Mundus and beyond will ever take you from me." Baldur felt the pain of the night before melt away thanks to the power of their love. They say time heals all wounds. Baldur would say love does it faster. When he and Rebec reaffirmed their bond, Baldur lay next to her with her head buried in his neck and thought to himself, And it's much more fun too. ***** Baldur woke up next to Rebec about thirty minutes later after the two dosed off. Now that the worst was past them, Baldur figured now he could attempt to tell Rebec about Toki. Baldur got up from his bed and started putting on his Nordic Carved armor as she slept. She stirred again soon after, and used the chamber pot, then went to the wash basin and splashed her face. As she did so, Rebec thought about the night before, and how everything seemed to be crashing in on her and hurting so much. There was still a little ache from thinking about Jala and talking about her, but now the blackness had receded and she even felt a little excitement that she couldn't quite place. When she thought about the potion in her pack, it dawned on her that it was because she wouldn't be taking that ever again. Not for a long time. Not until she had babies that looked like Baldur and called him papa and her mama, and grew up into strong little Nords. Rebec realized she'd just been standing there, lost in that intoxicating image, for some time. She started and began searching for something clean to put on. Next was Dawnstar, and her own family. Even on their worst days they were better than Toki's hag mother. And this time, Baldur would be with her. Baldur was putting on his cape, still thinking how in the hell he was ever supposed to start this conversation in the first place. Hey guess what, I saw your dead husband wasn't really going to work. Baldur recalled what "Toki" said about the Blue Mountain flowers and figured that would be the final test. Baldur was a little nervous to find out if those dreams of Sovngarde were real because of how outlandish they really were. But it was now or never and Rebec did need to hear what was said. When Baldur put on his cape, he sat back on the bed facing opposite of her now. "Hey, uh...Rebec. Remember what I told you about Fort Neugrad? When Lorgar almost killed me?" She made a face at mention of that name. "Yeah. After which he apparently carried me off like a sack of potatoes." Baldur stayed silent for a while, still not yet sure how to proceed. He was afraid that saying he spoke to Toki would upset her, especially if she thought he was making it up just to comfort her. Baldur decided to go off with the test first. If it meant something to her, then he'd say something. If not, then at most he'd found another romantic gesture and he'd keep it to himself for a while. "Rebec, lets take a walk outside for a bit." "Alright." She could use some fresh air. After crying so much the night before, her head felt like it was full of cobwebs. The main room was empty except for one man passed out at a table. He was apparently a regular or inn guest since the innkeeper had cleaned around him. A few Stormcloaks who preferred to spend their coin on drink than private rooms were snoring on pallets on the floor. It was a clear morning and there were only a few stray snowflakes falling. Morthal had looked depressing the day before, but in the sunlight it had some rustic charm. As she walked, Rebec slyly took Baldur's hand and laced her fingers through his, claiming him. She was always proud for people to see that he was hers. Baldur was a little annoyed that he didn't have normal clothes to wear every once in a while, especially on moments like this when Rebec felt good enough to hold his hand in public. Still, the act of holding her hands felt good, even if his gauntlets prevented him from feeling the warmth of her skin. The pressure from her grasp was still felt, which for him was enough. Baldur was looking for the patch of flowers that he remembered seeing before not too far off from the tavern, but he took his time, taking care to enjoy this moment as if it were his last, as Toki had advised him to. He and Rebec didn't just go out for a stroll very often just for the sake of being together. That was something he planned to change. Baldur lifted her hand to his lips and gave her a kiss as they continued to walk on. Rebec exchanged a smile with him. She figured this walk was because of what had happened, but it was a good result. The cold wind was starting to pick up now, but it of course wasn't enough to bother the locals or the pair. The cold air did wonders for Baldur's face, which still felt some of the weariness from the night when he slept with his eyes open. Baldur and Rebec finally came across the patch of flowers that he remembered seeing from earlier. Baldur's heart began to race in anticipation of Rebec's reaction, but he made sure not to make a big deal out of it. If she got no recognition from her afterall, he wasn't sure what he'd say to explain why he brought up Lorgar. Perhaps that he was thinking about what would happen with her if he did die that day and they never met...The thought made Baldur freeze momentarily before he snapped out of it so Rebec wouldn't say anything. Baldur let go of her hand to bend down near the patch of flowers, and he made sure to pick the best ones for her first. The wind was threatening to pull him away by his cape which was fluttering around, but Baldur paid it no mind. Standing up now while not facing Rebec, Baldur closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Finally he turned around and put the bundle in her hands, then placed some in her hair. "They remind me of the color of your eyes." Rebec watched Baldur while he was kneeling down by some flowers, but she soon turned to observe the morning activity in the village, and the mist rising off the marsh that came right up into town. When he presented her with the flowers, she stared at them a moment before she took them. It was what Toki had always said. Her eyes met Baldur's, and she thought she better not mention that. She was careful not to talk too much about Toki with him. It would gall her, too, if he talked about a former lover often, let alone if he'd been married before. Still, he always wanted to know what she was thinking. Maybe he'd come to regret that rule. "Toki used to give me these," she said quietly. "He'd say the same thing. I always thought, 'what am I supposed to do with flowers'?" Rebec laughed a little, as if she wanted to minimize the memory, though it made her sad to think that she'd disregarded the small gesture. With Baldur she would do better. Baldur couldn't believe what he just heard. Confirmation that his dreams were actually true. This was beyond amazing, but Baldur still couldn't quite believe it. Baldur had to take a seat where they were for a minute and he gestured with his hand for Rebec to do the same. "What...what if I told you that I already knew that? What would you say?" She appeared puzzled. "Did I already tell you? I'm sorry. You don't want to hear about me and Toki all the time. I'm probably just sentimental because we're carrying his bones around everywhere like some kind of creepy necromancers. But I like the flowers. Thank you, Baldur." "No, no. That isn't it." Baldur started rubbing his chin, thinking very carefully on how to proceed. "Rebec, think back to what I asked you in the room. About Lorgar and Neugrad. When I almost died. You read my journal, so you should remember. We talked about it briefly, but I don't think you put much thought into it. Being a dream and all." Her puzzlement deepened. "You thought you went to Sovngarde or something? Baldur, I know it seemed real, but you prob-" Suddenly Rebec stopped, and made the connection to the flowers. She hadn't ever talked about those flowers to Baldur. She hadn't even thought about them herself in years. Staring, she said, "Are you trying to tell me you saw Toki? He told you about the flowers?" Baldur laughed slightly at her reaction and said, "See? And you said us Bards lie about our stories." "What... I mean..." Rebec stopped, trying to digest it. "So you can just come and go from Sovngarde as you please? Gods, Baldur. That's quite a talent." She still couldn't quite believe it, but decided to play along. "What did he say? Does he know about everything here?" "Heh, that's what he said too. No I don't think I can go whenever I want. He said he was trying to contact you, but the gods gave him me instead for whatever reason. We...both hated that. At first." Baldur took a deep breath and went into the tale. Every last detail, including the harsh parts they had both said to each other. Even his threats, him pulling out the axe, his cruel words to the man and so on. He also made sure to tell her what Toki said about just wanting her to be happy, and him being glad she was happy with Baldur, but most importantly he told her what he said about Jala. The only detail Baldur made sure to leave out was the part about bards exaggerating. That little tidbit would forever remain between them. Baldur was watching the ground to concentrate and make sure he got every last detail right, so he didn't notice Rebec's reaction to everything. Finally once he explained how he and Toki made up and even accepted each other, he looked to her to see what she'd say. It was a lot to hear, and it sounded like utter bull shit to a sane man. But the flowers couldn't be denied. "So anyway, once Tsun sent me back, I woke up realizing I slept with my eyes open and felt a pain in my nose. I thought that was the proof until you moved around on me and elbowed me in the nose. That made me unsure again. The flowers was the final test." Rebec's eyes had started to mist up again, and while Baldur talked, she was looking at the flowers. There had been so much she'd wanted to tell Toki, mostly to say that she was sorry for being a bad wife. She'd treated her crew better than she had her own husband who just wanted to make her happy. The part about Jala made her want to lay down and weep forever, but it also lifted a weight off her shoulders. Even if Baldur had dreamt it all up in his poet's mind, or if Toki was making that part up to comfort her, it didn't matter. It felt true. You couldn't love someone that much and not have it mean anything at all. The hardest part to figure out was why- supposing all this had actually happened- the gods had brought Baldur and Toki together instead of letting her see him. Maybe there was something to the idea that Baldur had a tie to Sovngarde, because of his experience at Neugrad, that most people didn't have. They had Toki's bones with them and maybe that helped him find them somehow. After pondering this a while, Rebec realized that it was better this way. Toki and Baldur talking to each other had made them all part of each other and not just something from her past. Finally she looked up, and reached out to touch Baldur's cheek. "Thank you, my love. For everything." Baldur still couldn't quite wrap his head around all of it. Nothing that he said seemed to be out of place to Rebec. Considering Baldur never met Toki, that was the final confirmation he needed. Baldur put his hand over Rebec's while it rested on his cheek and thanked every god that he knew, even the Imperial ones that he was so blessed. "Thank you, for choosing me and coming back down to Falkreath. I didn't think I'd see you for a long time. I'm glad I was wrong. Now, what do you say we get off this ground and get ready to move to Dawnstar eh? It's not too far off. Let's go and get Mazoga and the others. I can't wait to see papa!" Laughing, Rebec stood. "You might decide old Rivka is Mother Mara herself after my pa gets done with you." Mazoga was herding Stormcloaks by the time they got back to the tavern, ordering them around like she was the general. "There you two are. Everything okay, Cap?" The orc's tone was casual, knowing Rebec wanted her privacy, but it was clear she was concerned. The admiral's smile removed all doubt. "Everything's grand. Let's get moving to Dawnstar." "I'll go get our stuff. And Toki." Baldur leaned towards Rebec and whispered in her hear. "Maybe now, you believe the tale about the nord with a tail?" Rebec laughed. "Not a chance. You're still a bard, Red-Snow." Baldur gave a fake frustrated sigh before chuckling to himself as he walked off to prepare their things to leave. Baldur was placing the mead bottles that Rebec left out in her pack when he eyed the potion from before from Mazoga. Baldur picked it up and stared at it for a while, wondering what Rebec would want him to do with it. Baldur knew that they were committed to a child, but at the same time he wanted the choice to always remain hers. With that thought in mind, Baldur kept the potion for her after all, and placed it in the pack before walking out with the bags and Toki in tow. Baldur was about to walk out when he saw his journal left on a nightstand. "Shit, almost forgot." Baldur grabbed the book and went to set off, when some papers fell out as he did from the point in his book that he marked by placing the Thalmor magic cloth in as a bookmark. Baldur bent over to pick up the papers and quickly read them: "Because you don't want to learn some magic so you can use the cloth, I'm sending you this little amulet that will allow you to summon Karsh. He will be able to deliver letters from you. The amulet is activated with fire and don't expect Karsh to arrive immediately as it will probably take a couple of days for him to fly to your location. I also expect you to feed and care for him when he arrives. And please try to be patient with him. W" "Karsh...that crow Witchie was playing with? Ah I remember that thing. Haha, that should be interesting to see. I think I'll keep that to myself until the thing arrives. Should be funny seeing Rebec's reaction...What amulet?" Baldur looked around to see if it dropped as well, but didn't see anything. He checked his pack to see if maybe it dropped into there, and sure enough a simple silver amulet lay right at the bottom of it piled under some mead bottles. Baldur took the thing in his hand and stared at it, curiously. He knew he didn't have any silver amulets, so this had to be it. But it was just so plain. He expected to see some runes or something. Baldur placed the amulet in his journal and took a look at the next letter: "I need you to do me a small favor. I need you to prepare to make Lorgar a wanted man and cut off his escape routes into and through Skyrim. I know he's planning something and I know it's bad for the Empire. So when I give the word you must make him wanted in every hold in Skyrim, 5000 septims for his head, the Empire will pay of course. I suspect he might try to make his way to Solstheim, so I think he would in that case try to board a ship to there, so make sure to get that information out. We both know he's dangerous so it's best if you don't take him alive. Remember his escape from Falkreath prison? W" Baldur's gauntlet hit his face pretty hard as he facepalmed himself and wiped his face downward. "Damnit, Lorgar! What the hell are you doing? We can't afford the Empire being weakened." Baldur put the letters back in his journal and placed it in his pack so they could leave. He'd talk about Lorgar with Rebec on the way there. Baldur walked out and gave her her pack, but he kept Toki with him. A gesture in good will. "Alright everyone, next stop is Dawnstar. Let's get moving! We should move faster with the cold cooling us down. Mazoga, lead the way."

Eduard Laenius- The Imperial City, Day Eduard waded through a small gathering of people, picking up a dropped ring on the ground before slipping through an alley. He then decided it was worthless, and slid it back towards the loud group of people as he turned a corner. Nobody has anything of worth around here. He continued to wade through groups of people, slipping in and out of view. As he walked, he began to think about Dawnstar. I wonder how much of this Liv buys. I mean, the story is solid. The alibi is there. But she's no fool. And I wouldn't be surprised if she doubted my story. It wouldn't be the first time I lied to her about what I was doing. And sadly, it most likely won't be the last. It's better for her to be left out of this anyways. He then refocused himself on his task. He was going to snoop around the Arena district to see if he couldn't eavesdrop some information. If not, he'd have to open up his contact list tomorrow, or tail the Grand Champion. In any case, he continued towards the Arena district. He watched a man and a woman walk past him, smiling as they walked with interlocked hands. His mind drifted towards Dawnstar yet again. Ahh, Karita. A fine specimen, that one. I really should have sealed that the first time. I won't drop the ball next time the opportunity arises. Women that fine don't come around all too often. Especially ones that are actually nice. Or intelligent. I'd even keep her around just for the food. She's definitely on the "to do" list when I get back. He continued on, finally reaching the Arena district. He slithered from group to group, picking up whatever information he could. "Did you see that last match?" "No, I missed it because of the family. Was it good?" "Good? It was fantastic! The guy from the yellow team nearly decapitated his opponent with a mace! What a swing!" "Oh of course! My wife always makes me miss the best fights! 'Oh your wasting too much gold at the Arena! You've got a problem dear!' Oh shut the hell up ***** is what I'm saying." Eduard didn't gain any information from that conversation, but did get a much needed laugh. He pressed on. "I saw the Grand Champion yesterday!" "Really! Where at?" "Uhh... at the inn." "Oh really? What was he doing there?" "Uhh... Buying drinks?" "You idiot. You suck at lying." Yeah he does. Eduard listened in on people for about an hour, before deciding there wasn't any useful information at the moment. He was exhausted from the long trip, and was eager to get some sleep. He would turn up the search tomorrow. For now, he was going to find a place to stay.

Rebec, Baldur Morthal Evening As the small group of Stormcloaks approached the cabin, the woman chopping wood outside stopped and squared herself in the path, holding the axe at ready. “What do you want?†she called out in challenge. “We’ve got nothing here, move along.†Rebec held up her hand for the others to stop, then started forward again, letting Baldur know with a hand on his arm that he should accompany her. “Thora, it’s Rebec,†she said as she got closer. “Rebec.†The woman sounded surprised, and relaxed her defensive posture. “Where’s Toki?†When she got no reply, her brow knit in puzzlement, then her eyes fell on the cloth bag slung over Rebec’s shoulder. Turning, she called back toward the house, “Mama, Rebec’s here!†An older woman was already looking out from the door of the house. A thin line of smoke rose up from its smoke hole into the already grey sky. A few chickens poked around in the yard. Though it was well kept, the place had a sagging, decaying look, as if it would all fall into the marsh at any moment. Rebec glanced once at Baldur, then continued on to the house with Thora following. Baldur already could tell that he wouldn't like the mother. She had a look about her that said she got along with no one and loved to criticize everyone and everything. He could already see why she and Rebec were at odds. The older woman, Toki’s mother, watched with a scowl as she approached. “Rebec Red-Eye. Not even drunk by the looks, isn’t that a wonder. Where’s my son?†Baldur's brow knit at the comment. He was spot on. But it wasn't enough to say anything. “Rivka, I’ve come with bad news.†said Rebec. The woman’s mouth worked a moment. Finally she said, “I expect you’d better come in.†The inside of the little house was as mean-looking as the outside, though a little fire burned with a stew pot bubbling over it. Toki’s father, thin and frail looking, was lying on a bed in the corner, but sat up as they entered. “Hello Finn,†Rebec said, smiling at him. When he returned her greeting in a reedy voice and extended a hand, she walked over and took it, bending to kiss him on the forehead. Rivka had been watching her like a hawk, but finally turned her eyes on Baldur who in turn was watching her. “Who are you?†Before he could answer, Rebec did it for him. “This is General Baldur Red-Snow of the Stormcloak army.†This made the woman’s eyebrows fly up in alarm. Morthal had been easily taken in the war, but that hadn’t been the end of its troubles, as armies criss-crossed back and forth on their way from the tundra to the Reach. No group of soldiers was a welcome sight, no matter what banner they carried. “Never mind that, Rivka,†Rebec went on. “Like I said, I have bad news. Maybe you ought to sit down.†“We’re Nords just like you and don’t need coddling. He’s dead, isn’t he?†“I’m afraid so.†The younger woman, Toki’s sister, let out a little cry of anguish, and Rivka breathed hard, leaning on the chair in front of her. The father’s face fell but he just sat on the bed, otherwise motionless. After a moment, Rivka motioned towards the bag Rebec carried. “Is that...?†At Rebec’s nod, she started shaking, and then she had to sit down. There was an awkward silence, then Thora put a hand on Baldur’s arm. “Please, sit down. Let me get you two some mead. Rebec, sit.†She bustled around the little room, sniffling, and brought them both cups and bottles of mead, then laid out a platter of cheese and bread. The whole time Rivka sat silent, no tears in her eyes, and not seeming to see anything in front of her. When everyone was seated and settled, the older woman lifted her eyes and looked at Rebec with a malicious glint in her eye. “Did he run off somewhere with you, and you only thought now to come and tell his poor mother?†Rebec’s mouth clenched, and under the table she put a hand on Baldur’s arm warning him not to say anything. Baldur looked to Rebec with a warning glare. He'd follow her lead, for now. With forced calm she answered, “It wasn’t like that. He died in the Reach. The jarl covered it up, so I didn’t know anything until I went looking.†She told them about the poisoned wells and how she had found out where to look- not mentioning details about Samuel or why he had produced such information- and about how they had found the body. A few times during the narration, Thora let out gasps or exclamations, but Toki’s parents both listened quietly. When there was nothing left to tell, Rebec fell silent a moment, then said, “He died a hero. I’ll make sure everybody knows it.†Rivka’s empty expression began to twist up, and she burst out with contempt, “You make sure you tell them how you drove him out there in the first place! Don’t you dare try to tell me what my son was, Rebec Red-Eye! As if you would know! Running off to the gods know where and whoring yourself out to whoever’d pay to keep your precious ship running.†Thora had started to cry, and said, “Mama, don’t.†Rebec just sat silently. Color had risen in her cheeks, but she didn’t say anything. Rivka wasn’t done. “I told him. Time and again, I told him. If only he’d find a nice girl to settle down with and be happy, someone who didn’t think she was too good to mend his shirts and cook his meals. He should’ve stayed here at home and made a life for himself. That was no life, what he did. No life at all.†She had begun to cry in hard, bitter tears that didn’t soften her expression a bit. Still, Rebec sat, letting Toki’s mother pour out her anger. "Watch your mouth, woman." said Baldur. He could feel the blood start to rush through his ears and face now in his growing anger, but he tried his best to suppress it. "I understand you are grieving but I won't tolerate you bad mouthing Rebec. She's not a whore and she didn't sell herself for the ship or otherwise. You don't know what you are talking about." Rivka turned her venomous expression on Baldur. "What'll you do, bury that axe in my head and rape my daughter when I'm gone? We heard what happened in Whiterun. You know nothing about this, either, so stay out of it." The sister had been watching them. Wiping her eyes, she looked at Rebec and said, "This is your man now, isn't it." "He's my husband. I know how it looks." She turned to Toki's mother. "You and I never saw eye to eye, but all that's in the past now. I can't change the past and I don't care to change your mind about me. I just wanted you to know what happened. If you want, we'll bury him here, or I can take him home to Dawnstar." Rebec remembered something, and went to her pack. The women held their breath as if she might bring out a skull, but it was a leather toolkit that had been in Toki's pack. "Here are some of his tools. He must have lost the others, running from the ambush. And here's his amulet. I know you gave it to him, so you should have it back." Rivka stared at the items on the table and finally picked up the amulet, a simple engraved flat stone with a weak enchantment. She was lost in her memories for a while, then put the amulet down. "You go on and take his body with you. We had little of him in life and even less in death. No grandchildren, and nothing to do with these anymore. I hope you live to see the day, Captain Rebec, when your own child breaks your heart and stomps on the pieces." She turned to Baldur. "And don't you think, you with your fancy weapons and important title, that you can keep her any more than my Toki did. She's a bad seed, this one. Loves the drink and the wild living more than her own kin, and taught my son to do the same." "Rebec, you ought to leave," Thora said quietly. Baldur stood up from his chair now in his anger. The gloves were coming off and he didn't care who he pissed off, not even Rebec. "First of all, it's ADMIRAL Rebec. Second of all, you don't know shit about me, my Rebec and you know even less about your own son. Your son came to Rebec. HE was the husband. HE was the one that decided the relationship would be the way it was. Rebec would tell you it was both their faults, but she is wrong. Toki didn't hold on to her. HE wanted to roam, and you can bet your ass he'd tell you that himself. Rebec didn't force him to do anything. You think I don't have the right to talk about this, well you most certainly don't have any ******* right to talk about me or our relationship! I actually care enough about her to hold on to her. You sit here in your house safe from Thalmor torture because of my sacrifice! My men's sacrifice! REBEC'S sacrifice! All of you owe me and her your lives and then some." Baldur made sure that all of the people in the room could see the venom in his gaze before returning his eyes back to Toki's mother while pointing a finger straight at her. "And you! You owe me eight soldier's lives personally for recovering your son's bones you ungrateful bitch!" Rebec cursed under her breath as Baldur began his tirade, but she didn't try to stop it, just stood up and retrieved the bag of bones. Even an armed man or woman would have been intimidated at the general's shouting, and it was plain in their faces they thought they were about to be split open. Thora was pale as the grave and shaking, and her mother looked frightened at first, but she was a Nord and not about to grovel. Standing, she pointed a trembling hand toward the door. "You get out of my house, the both of you! I never want to see your face again, Rebec Strife-Bringer. Take this husband of yours and leave us alone." The admiral ignored Rivka and turned to Toki's father, who thus far hadn't said a word. "I'm sorry. Truly, I am. You know I loved him, even if I wasn't the daughter you wanted." The man's eyes watered. "Leave," he said in a thin, hoarse voice. Rebec took a shaky breath, turned and grabbed Baldur's arm. "Let's go." Baldur made for the door with no regrets for anything that he said. He'd be damned if he was going to let anyone disrespect Rebec, his soldiers or him after all that they'd done for Skyrim. Grieving mother or not. Baldur let Rebec go through the door first. He was about to close the door, but he poked his head back in to say one last thing. "As Rebec said, your son died a hero. Keep that in mind next time you start talking about how disappointed he made you. You think Rebec didn't deserve him? YOU don't deserve him and you never did." Baldur slammed the door shut before she could give a retort, not that he thought she would. Or could. Baldur had a headache now, but he could feel the blood recede from his face as he finally started to calm down some. He averted his eyes for the moment from Rebec since he wasn't sure how she'd take what just happened. Rebec was pale, and at first didn't say anything. She was about to speak when the door opened and Toki's sister ran after them. "Wait! Rebec, wait. I'm so sorry. I know you and I have had words, too, but you're right that it's all in the past. Don't go away thinking badly of us. It's been hard these past years, wondering. We didn't know if Toki was dead or just staying away." The admiral's expression remained stony at first, but finally she softened a little. "It was the same with me. I should've gone after him sooner, but with the war..." "Is it true what they say? You lead the navy now, and you stopped the Thalmor from invading?" Rebec glanced once at Baldur. It didn't sound believable to her ears, either. "Sort of," she hedged, turning back to Thora. "I do lead the navy." "That's good. That's real good, Rebec, I'm happy for you." The blonde woman hesitated, then said, "I hate to ask, with everything... Rebec, Papa's real sick. I don't think he's going to live through the winter, and we're out of coin for potions. He says it's just his time, but, could you spare something?" I might have known. Now Rebec was getting angry, the sting of Rivka's words still echoing in her ears. It was clear they didn't want her as family and never had, but were happy to take from her like family. She was going to refuse, then thought of Finn and how frail he looked, and the fact that he had to put up with Rivka day and night. The family had never had much, and she now had military pay and a fancy house in Solitude she never even used. Reaching for her coin purse, Rebec hesitated and looked at Baldur. It was his coin now, too, not just hers. Baldur didn't say a word. He was thinking the same thing she was about the nerve of these people, but he had no need for the coin either. It had touched him, however that she looked to him before giving it, even though he wouldn't have said anything if she didn't. He had forgotten that they shared everything now that they were together. Baldur nodded his head in Thora's direction with his arms crossed. He was going to stay silent, but he felt that he needed to add something. "Know this. The coin isn't given in guilt. Rebec is a good person and is too nice to refuse one in need. She deserved better. She deserves better." Baldur didn't say exactly what and that was intended. Husband, mother-in-law, etc. It went without saying. Thora looked at Baldur wide-eyed, expecting him to start yelling again. She didn't reply until Rebec deposited a pouch of coins in her hand. "Thank you, Rebec. Your husband's right. You're a good person. Gods keep you." The woman paused, then kissed her hand and touched it to the cloth bag over Rebec's shoulder. "Goodbye, brother." After that Thora returned to the house and Rebec looked back to Baldur. "That went about like I expected," she sighed. Baldur had half expected her to start yelling at him and was surprised that she didn't. "You ask me, it went better than expected. I don't know about you but I think that woman needed to hear those words. Let's get out of this cold and go get a tavern room. We can talk there if you feel like talking. You already know I do." Subdued, Rebec nodded and didn't say a thing all the way back to the village. At the inn, Mazoga was sitting around a table with some of the Stormcloaks, sharing pints of mead. She got up when she saw the general and admiral return. Pulling Rebec aside, the orc spoke in a low voice. "I went to the alchemist in town and got you that... you know." Mazoga handed her a large potion bottle and took the coins for it. "Don't get drunk and take too much. You know how that ends." "With my guts on the floor. I know the drill." Rebec glanced over to where Baldur was paying for their room. She stashed the bottle in her pack and rejoined him. Baldur was still feeling the effects of his headache and wanted nothing more than a good tankard of mead, but the old Redguard tender was busy talking to another one of her patrons, a mercenary about a bounty for a giant with a red braided beard by the Jarl. Baldur knew immediately who this was and thought about saying something, but decided against it. The man was fully outfitted in steel plate armor but he stood no chance regardless. Baldur leaned on the counter and started rubbing his forehead when he noticed from the corner of his eye Rebec and Mazoga talking. It was only unusual because they looked like they were trying to keep what was said under wraps. Baldur put his hand over his face as they looked at him, still rubbing his head, but cracking his fingers open just enough to see Rebec slip a potion in her pack. Baldur nonchalantly looked away from her direction and back to the tender once Rebec came around and finally was able to give her the coin and go to their room. Baldur didn't plan on mentioning what he saw just yet. It could be nothing at all. Baldur grabbed Rebec's hand, forsaking the mead momentarily and pulled her to their room. Once they were in, Baldur waited to see what she would say first. Not mentioning the potion, Rebec put her pack and the bone bag down and sat on the bed, propped her forehead on her hands and rubbed at her temples. She couldn't stop hearing Rivka's words in her mind. The trouble was that they were things she'd told herself in one form or another. That's what made it so hard to hear someone else say them, when she already felt low. Looking up, she tried to force herself to be cheerful for Baldur's sake. "Don't you want to eat something? Drink some mead? It's been a long day and tomorrow will be another." "I'm fine Rebec. You know I just want to know what you're thinking." said Baldur as he sat on the bed. She shrugged a shoulder, feeling helpless. Then she thought of Baldur's outburst. At the time she'd been upset about it, but now she smiled a little. "You got ol' Rivka good." Her tension easing, she laughed, though her eyes also misted over with tears. "Thank you, Baldur. I doubt we'll be invited back for dinner, but I know why you said all that." "It wasn't just to defend your honor by the way. What I said was a hundred percent true. Even the parts you probably didn't like, like about Toki. I'd been holding that back for a while now. Telling myself he just cared in a different way. There's no such thing. But that's in the past now." Baldur outstretched his arms for her to come and embrace him. She slid over and hugged him, then turned her face to kiss him, a shy little peck. Staying close, she leaned her forehead on his and said, eyes downcast, "What Rivka said was true, too. I never thanked you, did I, for pulling me out of that prison cell. You're more than my man, Baldur. You gave me a chance to be something. I'd always been trying to do that on my own, but it didn't work out so well until you came along." Baldur's face turned stern now and he grabbed Rebec's chin to face him. "What she said wasn't true, Rebec. Regardless of what you think, Toki came to you for a relationship. He's the husband. Marriage is a partnership, but the man has a responsibility to keep his wife from the elements so to speak. That is why you don't need to thank me for things like that, although I do appreciate hearing it. And you were younger too. I don't hold any hard feel-, no I can't say that. I can't pretend not to feel anger for a husband that didn't keep you protected from the world. Who didn't keep you from a damn skooma den when your ship was wrecked. No, his mother was dead wrong, you hear me? Dead wrong and so are you if you think otherwise. And you most certainly were not a whore." Rebec smiled sadly. "Sometimes I'd like to see the world the way you do, Baldur. That's your love talking. But you're right, it's just my guilt talking through me. The truth's somewhere in the middle." She pulled back from him, sighing. "Toki wouldn't have said all that like his mother did, but it wasn't his responsibility to change me, either, you know that. We both made the bed we were lying in." "Change you, no. But he could have made the attempt to hold on to you. Tell me, honestly. If Toki for instance had you travel with him, or he traveled with you. Or he got a home and had you stay with him. If you two were in any situation where he was with you day by day, can you honestly tell me that you would have wandered?" She thought a moment. "Probably not. But I didn't want to be tied down like that, either. Or that's how I saw it, anyway. Someone always asking me where I was and what I was doing. I loved Toki, but I wanted to be let alone, too. So I thought." "Well then in that scenario you two would have ended things like they should have been and realized you weren't ready for marriage, or you would have grown out of that eventually. Either way for better or worse for the marriage, him holding on to you would have lead to a better result. I suppose I should be glad he didn't but I hope you see my point. Maybe you won't agree now, but you'll see. You say you want to see the world as I do?" Baldur stood up from the bed and pulled Rebec in front of the long mirror in the room with him standing behind her and his arms over her chest wrapped around her shoulders in a hug. "This is the world as I see it. If you can't see what I see in you, then look at me and see how I look at you. Should give you a better idea." Baldur gave Rebec a kiss on her neck once, then her cheek before resting his chin on her shoulder while holding her. "Even if you still can't see it, know that your opinion of me is the only one that matters. Even above my own. Because you are my whole world. Is it not the same for you?" Rebec held his hand, playing with his fingers as they both looked into the mirror. Her expression was thoughtful. "Have you ever felt like that about anyone else before?" Baldur lay silent for a while, wishing to take the question seriously for Rebec's sake. To be honest as he had wanted her to be. "There was one who I could have grown to maybe like. Maybe even love. But I wouldn't give her the time of day because I didn't want to risk it. Sort of how I was trying to do with you, but you I couldn't ignore. It's different. I suppose part of it at first was simply not being with anyone for a long time. Maybe I just couldn't take being lonely anymore, but I could have picked any random girl from the street. That or go back to the woman and see if she still wanted to work things out. But I didn't. I chose you, even though I didn't know you as well. Fate chose for me, and she chose right." She smiled and nodded, then turned to face him. "I felt it with Toki, or thought I did. I was young, but he and I had big dreams, too. I love you Baldur, you know I do. It's just hard for me to be rosy eyed when I'm carrying around the bones of the man I once said words with. I've changed, though. A lot of things are different with you and me. I'm not going to let you go." "I know you won't. You try and I'll still be hanging on to you for dear life. But as you know I love to hear you say these things anyway." Baldur smiled briefly, but then looked at her straight in the eyes with unwavering conviction. "I'm going to be blunt. I realize you had feelings for him. How could you not have? He was your first. But with respect to him, he had his chance and we know how it ended. That's why his bones don't bother me. Besides, he's in Sovngarde remember? Please don't hold back from me. You know what happens when you try. If I need to, I'll have Mazoga hold onto them for a while. The more I hear you express yourself, the happier I feel. Learn to let go of that mental block that keeps you from saying everything you wish to say. I want to hear your words unfiltered." Rebec's soft smile turned playful. "You're trying to turn me into a gods damned Breton. Then what'll you do with me?" Laughing, she put a hand on his neck and pulled his face down to hers. "Shor's bones, you make me crazy. I can't even have a good sulk." She kissed him again, more fully this time, then pulled away before they got any further and had to make a night of it. Stepping over to the table, she cracked open a bottle of mead and her eyes fell on the pack where she'd stashed the potion bottle. Rebec stared at it a moment, then put down her mead. "There's something else we need to talk about. Something you should know." Avoiding his eyes, she said, "Since we've been... together, regular like, I've been taking the lady potion again. I don't figure you'd mind since we're soldiers and all, but I don't like hiding things from you. So that's that." She took a swig of mead, ready to close the topic. "Ah, I was going to get to that. I'm glad I didn't have to ask you about it first. I saw you and Mazoga." Baldur didn't wish to sour the mood, but it was either now or never. Baldur turned around from her, not wanting her to see his expression, which was slightly hurt. "So. You don't want my baby. Is that it? What if I asked you to stop taking it?" Rebec gave him a sidelong glance, expression skeptical. "Don't be like that, Baldur. A baby's a big responsibility and in case you haven't noticed, you and I've got a few of those already." "I think we can handle it. Plus with a baby, we can get more leave time. Much easier to make the excuse. I'd be right there with you every step of the way." Baldur turned back around and got to his knees by Rebec with his hands resting on her lap. "Look at me and tell me you wouldn't like a little Rebec running around. Or a little Baldur. Think about it Rebec! A baby! You, me and he or she. We'll be a real family, finally." "Baldur, what are you doing?" Rebec said softly, brushing a hand over his cheek. "Maybe we'll get to do that. Someday." She looked away quickly and took a swig of mead. When he didn't move, she turned back and gave a nervous laugh, pulling on his arm. "Come on, get up. We've got so much on our plate right now, and you know the Thalmor aren't really gone for good. Just put it out of your mind and be happy with what we've got." "Rebec, someday may never come if we wait too long. I'm already thirty nine. It will only get harder and harder as the years go by. Haven't you ever thought about it? I picture us on the ship. Sailing away to wherever. You, me and the little one, looking at the beauty of the sea as the sun rises in the morning. Us against the world. The Red-Snow family. Me a father, you a mother. Doesn't the thought of a little one calling you mama do something for you?" Baldur stood up and pulled her up to him and held her close. Close enough to feel her breath on his face. Baldur spoke in a low whisper in her ear. "I know you, Rebec. I know you want a baby. My baby. Our baby. Our child. Doesn't the thought of us having a child together just make you melt?" Rebec thought of the dream she'd had in Falkreath, the little boy climbing on rigging and calling her mama, then the sight of Lorgar drawing aim on Baldur as he walked toward them. She clutched the fabric of Baldur's tunic, eyes pressed closed. Then she pushed him back firmly. "It doesn't matter what we want, it's what has to be. This isn't a world for that kind of life. Not for you and me." Passing a shaky hand over her forehead, she said, "The Thalmor. Samuel. Gods know what other enemies we've got out there. You'd bring a child into all that?" "Then if that is what you are worried about, we should never have a child. The Thalmor will likely not be fully dealt with in our lifetime. Samuel, I'm not sure. Not in the immediate future. There will always be dangers out there. The ancient nords faced them all together. It made them stronger." Baldur once again stepped to Rebec, putting his hands on her shoulders as he massaged them and whispered in her ear. "I won't make this easy for you, Rebec. I know you want to...If what we wanted didn't matter, I'd have never married you in the first place. Look how great that turned out." "No." She said it quietly, but in a forceful tone. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Just put it out of your mind. I'm sorry, Baldur." The raucous noise of the tavern crescendoed as she opened the door and walked out into the main hall. Rebec kept going, past the calls of the drunk or nearly-drunk Stormcloaks for her to join them, and out into the snowy darkness. Baldur ran after her immediately, not paying attention to the people watching him as he ran after her. The cold air kissed his skin gently as he burst out of the doors, but his running kept him warm. His breath trailed behind him as he called out to her. "Rebec, come back! What are you so afraid of?" His heavy breathing hurt with each gasp from the coolness of the air, but he was determined to run this way all night if he had to. When she heard Baldur calling after her, Rebec cursed and started running. Then she realized how foolish it was and slowed. She'd reached the edge of the village, near some rocky cliffs. When he caught up to her, she was kneeling, braced against a boulder. Tears had started to pool in her eyes, but she fought them back. Baldur's footsteps sounded behind her. Knowing he wasn't going to leave her be, she gave up fighting and the tears spilled forth. Lifting her eyes up to the moons, Rebec blinked as stray snowflakes fell on her face, fusing to the tears. Baldur was glad that she didn't make him run far, but he was more glad that having a baby didn't get that big of a negative reaction as to run all the way out of town. But it was close. Baldur couldn't believe that Rebec was actually crying and he felt hurt that a baby with him was so upsetting, but also that he caused this. But he couldn't let it go. Baldur got on his knees next to her and hugged her tightly, even if she didn't return it. "Rebec, this is me! It's Baldur, remember? Why are you so upset by this? Remember what we said? That we would talk about all of our problems, not avoid them? So talk!" Her eyes lowered and she took his hand, but said nothing for some time. Finally she spoke, her voice barely audible. "We had a daughter. Jala." Rebec's throat caught and she swallowed, trying to go on. She gripped on to Baldur's hand fiercely, as if she was now afraid he would be the one to run away. "She died. She was always sick, since the day she was born. We tried..." Her voice hitched and Rebec had to stop again, the tears coming harder. Baldur couldn't move, or think, and for a second he couldn't breathe either. Tears started rolling down his eyes now in full streams and his body started to shake. "R-.." Baldur tried to say her name again, but he couldn't. Baldur let go of his grasp on her now and sat back on the rock, staring at the ground. Wiping at her eyes, Rebec stared at the ground, making herself say the words. "She was three months old. We took her to the healer in Winterhold. She'd get better for a day or two, then start to wheeze again. She could never get her breath." Her shoulders shook with a sob. "We had to let her go. I couldn't bear to see her suffer like that. All those weeks I thought I was going to go insane, listening to her little lungs struggling to get air. Then when she was gone... The quiet. It was so quiet, and all I wanted was to have her back." Rebec put a hand to her mouth and the sobs came harder. Finally at these words, Baldur managed to open his mouth and say something. "So is that...why you and Toki were separated? Does his family know?" Drawing a halting breath to calm herself, Rebec answered, "They know. It wasn't the only reason, but after that we started drifting away more and more." She fell back and sat heavily against the boulder. After a silence, she started speaking again, tone mechanical. "I didn't want to be a mother. It seemed like the worst luck. We tried, though, both of us did. I was going to hire the ship out and Toki was going to try to set up a smithy. I was miserable. Then, one day... I don't know, maybe I felt her kick, and it was like a lever turned. I loved that little person inside me more than I'd ever loved anyone or anything." There was a long pause. "I'd stopped drinking as soon as I found out I was pregnant, but I don't know... before that... I can't help wondering." She put a hand to her face and hid her eyes, trying to banish the thought that something she'd done had caused her baby to die. Baldur scurried over to Rebec and squeezed her as hard as he could to him. Suddenly everything made so much sense, but it just made things hurt more that he never knew. "Oh Rebec, this hurts so much. This pain is worse than any amount of torture I've ever had to endure. The fact that I never knew. It explains so much, and the fact that those ******* sons of ******* knew about this! I want to kill that bitch, I swear! How c-" Baldur broke off in another short sob, then lowered his voice. "How could they treat you this way after that? You had this pain to yourself the whole time. It's no wonder things turned out for you the way they did. But you don't have to hold the pain alone anymore. I'll never ask you to have a child again. I promise." She held on to him and started to cry again. For years she'd buried everything, but being with Baldur had laid her raw. Some of her tears were for the baby, some for Toki, and some for both of them, who'd never found a way to get past everything and comfort each other or even make sense of it. It had been easy to tell herself she was tough and could just go on. She'd done that, but it was always there, as Rebec now realized. Grasping Baldur's arm, she said, "I want to. I'm just so afraid, Baldur. What if it happens again? But I want to. I never... she never got to call me mama." Baldur grasped her from behind her head and pulled her to him. "It won't happen again. This has made it painfully clear to me now that Fate meant for us to be together. Fate is an absolute bitch, but its the cards you and I have been dealt. Do you see? This is just another second chance that the gods have given you. As painful as everything that happened to you was, it all lead you down to this road. To me. It was one hell of a dangerous road for you to travel on your own, but I'm here now with you. I think it may just have been that you were too young, but that isn't an issue now. And we have access to Solitude's court mage, and I'll make sure our baby is as healthy as a dragon. Do you trust that? You trust me?" Half-turning, Rebec buried her face in his neck and held him fiercely. She didn't know anything but that she trusted and wanted him, no matter what they might face. "I do." Tilting her head, she kissed him until she had to stop to catch her breath and wipe her eyes. Then she sat against his chest, letting the pain recede. A bit of relief flashed over Baldur now. Despite the unbelievable pain they had just been put through, they were even closer than before. The final cuts were now applied to the gem that was their relationship. It hurt more than anything he ever experienced, but in the end it lead to this beautiful moment. If you told him they would be even closer the day before, he wouldn't have thought it possible. He truly felt like he completely understood her now. The way he saw it, things could only go forward and he would do whatever he possibly could to heal her pain. Baldur stood up after a while when his tears finally stopped and he held a hand out for Rebec to grab. "Come on, lets get out of this cold and let me take care of you. All this time you've been carrying this burden, now it's my turn. Let me carry you back." That went against Rebec's every grain to stand on her own two feet, but she nodded for him to do it anyway. She felt stripped to the core. Still she knew that it was a healing cut, letting free something that had been eating away at her bit by bit. At first it was awkward and she worried that she was too heavy, but he lifted her with ease. She then glanced at his face, shyly, wondering if he felt differently about her now, but the gentleness with which he carried her was answer enough to that. Laying her head back against his shoulder, Rebec closed her eyes. Baldur did feel different about her, but not in any negative sort of way. He just felt an even stronger sense to guard and protect her from everything. He knew that was dangerous, because he couldn't possibly hope to do that, but by Shor, he was going to try. He realized that was already what he was doing, but now it was completely different from before. It was so hard for him to explain even for himself. He felt so guilty for the way that he first judged her now, even more than he already did. He thought he knew everything about her before, but he didn't. Now, now he finally discovered what made Rebec who she was. Solved the puzzle. A puzzle that he didn't even know existed. When Baldur carried Rebec in his arms back into the tavern, everyone grew quiet and just stared. It was evident to everyone that both of them had been crying, but no one dared to tease them for it. Baldur looked to Mazoga briefly, figuring that she could guess what had happened, but then he turned his attention back to Rebec, safe and secure in his arms. Burrowed in his chest, cradled up almost like a newborn baby herself. So vulnerable. Even innocent. It was remarkable. Baldur remembered Toki's bones and realized even he didn't want to do anything around them now. "Barkeep, I'm renting the next room as well. I'll give you the gold in the morning." The bartender looked like she wanted to say gold up front, but the Redguard thought better of it and stayed silent. There was no whooping and hollering or whistling from the men at Baldur's comment either. They could tell it wasn't that kind of moment. Baldur made his way in the new room, but he still kept Rebec in his arms for a while before placing her in bed to rest. Closing his eyes even as he rocked around with her, still clinging to his chest. Warm, not alone. Safe.

Theodore Adrard The Laughing Fox Morning Theodore was fast asleep, his loud snoring almost disguising the knock on his bedroom door, and the subsequent knocks when he didn't immediately answer. Eventually the knocks became loud enough that he shook off the sleep, stumbling out of his bed. "Comin*yawn*g" Theo didn't bother dressing, instead opening the door with only his loincloth. The courier who stood behind the door immediately flushed red, the sight of the large and overweight Breton too much for him. He quickly handed over the letter he had in his possession. "Um, from your wife, milord," the nervous courier said. "Thank you," Theodore said. He reached onto the table near the door, and plopped the coin purse he picked up in the outstretched hand of the messenger, who promptly turned and left as quickly as possible, still scarred by Theodore's overweight image. The Breton General, on the other hand, took little notice of the courier and instead rushed over to the desk near the back corner, using his index finger to break the wax seal, which held his families emblem, a bull. Unfolding the parchment, Theodore began reading, not knowing what to expect. It read, Dearest Theo, Things are troubling here at home, though not in the way one would expect father has sunk even deeper into the fever. The priests and healers say that there is nothing they can do, and he has at most two weeks left. Already my brother-in-law has started his plotting, pulling his allies, which have grown since you left, and trying to consolidate as much power as they can. If they take power, the Empire's influence could be at an end in High Rock. Now, enough with the somber news. Captain Vette took care of the bandits, with Roland running off after him only a few days after they left. According to Vette, he preformed well, earning the respect of many of the guards. The way he tells it, his skills are rough, and could use refinement, but the basic knowledge to succeed is there. Apparently Cruttus has taught him well. Speaking of teaching, Nilesi continues to have problems with Roland showing up for his politics classes. Whenever you return you'll need to discuss that with him. Well, it appears I have to go. Someone must run things while you're gone. Love, Elayne Theodore leaned back in his chair, thinking over the contents of the letter. It seems things have progressed faster than I expected. We'll need to take care of those Independents, as them getting power would be awful for the Empire. Knowing Aleron, he'd sooner sell his wife to the Thalmor than lose his power. But I can't leave yet, I need to contact the Dark Brotherhood while I'm here. Hmmm, maybe I can use one of those feral vampires in the Bloodworks as a sacrifice, that wouldn't attract too much attention. That would work well. Maybe I can go with the Imperial Ambassador to Hammerfell, he should be leaving soon enough. His name is Gracchus, a general I believe. I'll need to speak to him about traveling together, which will be safer. Finished with his thoughts, Theo grabbed an ink quill and parchment before penning his reply. Elayne, I will be leaving soon, as I still have some business left to conduct. Tell Roland I'm proud, and he needs to go to his classes. I love you and hope I can see you soon. From, Theo Sealing it with his wax, he grabbed it an was halfway out of the room when he realized he wasn't dressed, so he ran back inside and threw on some street clothes before heading to the nearest couriers office.

Brutus, Endar Kvatch throneroom 12 p.m. "Umm, sir? Sir, are you okay?" The Kvatch guard stood at the door staring at the count of Kvatch for the better part of the day now. He was just sitting there with his chin resting on his fist, apparently very very deep in thought. He had not moved once the entire time. Finally the guard had enough and decided that he would go and see what exactly was so damn interesting to think about that he could possibly sit there that long to contemplate it. Not even women were that interesting to think about. "Sir, I'm sorry for raising my voice, but you're driving me insane! With all due respect, what could you possibly find so intriguing that you would sit there this l-" "Who are you talking to?" The guard's head shot up in an instant towards the hallway door in the back of the room where the sound had come from. The guard started stammering suddenly, as he couldn't believe what he was seeing. There were two Counts of Kvatch. One at the throne and one walking towards him now. "Wh- wh- who are you? Do you have a twin or something?" Brutus started to skip his way to the guard to see what exactly he was talking about. When he reached him, Brutus put a finger on his mouth and bent over to look at the throne as he stood to the right of it. "Hmm? Oh, I see you found my newest creation! It is my latest and greatest self-portrait! See?" Brutus pulled off another sheet like the one that covers his dining table and revealed the empty seat right before the guard, who now stood wide eyed in disbelief at how thoroughly his eyes were tricked. "Impressive is it not? Have you seen Master Endar? I've been wanting to train with him some more on this master illusion spell." "The wizard? I haven't seen him in two days. Just his servant girl every now and then. I figured that he'd already left, and she had decided to stay or something. I wouldn't blame her." As if on cue, Elara entered the hall from one of the side chambers, carrying a small sealed vial that contained some kind of dark yellow liquid. Ignoring the Count and his guard, she briskly strode to the opposite side of the hall and into another chamber. After the door had closed behind her, the guard looked at Brutus. "Want me to go ask her sir?" "Hmm, no. No need. I'll simply follow her. Endar doesn't like when she's late for a task and I'd rather not get the nice woman in trouble. Oh by the way, got your nose..." The guard rolled his eyes at the childish joke as Brutus reached for his face, but pretended to be entertained by it anyway for the Count's sake. "That's funny sir. Good o- aaaahhhhh!" The guard almost fainted at the sight of a bloody maggot infested nose in the palm of Brutus's hand. Brutus who was laughing hysterically quickly dissipated the spell for his sake. "Hhahahahahaha! Gotcha! Hahahahahaha!" Brutus kept laughing all the way to the hall entrance, giving the guard chills as he heard his insane cackling all the way down the corridor until it faded away. "I hate this damn post. Beats standing guard at some Chapel I suppose." *** Elara stood alone in Endar's chambers, still holding the yellow liquid. "Go on, drink it." Endar's disembodied voice could be heard across the room, near an alchemy lab he'd set up. "You're kidding right?" she said with a disgusted expression on her face. "It's really not as bad as it sounds." "I am not drinking some Daedra's pi-" "It's not just "some Daedra". Endar's voice interrupted. "This came from a Xivilai. They are among the most powerful lesser Daedra in existence. To even get this opportunity is something many Daedra worshipers would kill for... Come to think of it, some probably have." Elara folded her arms. "I am not a Daedra worshiper." It was impossible to see, but by now, Endar's expression had turned bored. He hated arguments that didn't get anywhere. "Of course, of course, but you're still going to drink it." A green ball of light appeared out of thin air, but Endar did not reappear. That's interesting. It's not and invisibility effect. It's a powerful chameleon. "Okay okay!" said Elara upon seeing the prepared spell. "You're lucky you pay well." Pinching her nose, the stewardess raised the vial to her lips and quickly downed its contents. Huh... Tasteless. She held up her hands. Seconds later, the color in them began to fade into a deeper and deeper transparency. After five seconds had passed, her hands and arms had become invisible, leaving nothing but a floating bottle in front of her eyes. "Whoa, hehehe. I could have some fun with this." She looked over to where she could see Endar's quill scribbling notes down on the journal at his desk. "Is that all sir?" she asked anxiously. She was ready to get outside and try out this "invisibility". "Hold on a moment. Do you feel any tingling or burning at all?" The girl shook her head. "... Well do you?" He asked again, slightly irritated. "Oh! Right... You can't see me. No I don't." "Strange. You should feel a shocking feeling in your stomach. Maybe it'll come to you later. You can go now. The effect should last about an hour. Come to me immediately if any side effects kick in. I need an accurate account." "Awesome!" Elara felt giddy. As a child, she'd always wanted to be able to become invisible and play pranks on people. Now, even though she was twenty six, she couldn't help but feel that same excitedness that a child feels when they finally gets something that they've been wanting for a long while. "I'll be outside scaring guards!" She turned for the door and almost bumped into Count Brutus. "Oh, hullo Count. Sorry, no time to chat!" She shuffled around him and ran down the hall, not wanting to waste a second of the vile, yet amazing Daedric fluid's effects. "Oh, I want in on the fun!" said Brutus as he cast an invisibility spell on himself before walking to Endar. "Hello Master Endar, are you busy at the moment? Need help with your experiments?" Endar finished writing, and put the book down. "No, but what I have been working on could be of benefit to you." There was a purple flash as he cast a dispel spell on Brutus, removing the invisibility effect. The Count was only visible for a moment however, as Endar quickly recast the invisibility on him. "Now tell me, what is the difference between the effect on you and the one on me?" "There isn't one, I assume." said Brutus. If Brutus could see Endar, he'd see one of the wizard's eyebrows go up. "Wrong. You saw just now that I am fully capable of casting spells without throwing off my effect. That can not be done with a typical invisibility spell." He looked at one of twelve hourglasses sitting in a row along his dresser. It was the eleventh one. As he looked, the last few grains of sand fell through, and seemingly on its own, the twelfth one next to it flipped over. Noon. Three minutes left if the last trial is any indicator. "I have not moved more than an inch since you entered the room, but if I were to get up and walk around, you'd probably see a shimmering effect. That is because l am not invisible. This is a strong chameleon effect. It is much more durable." "Ah, I've heard of this spell before. Sadly it's fallen from common use as of late. How does it work?" "I have the spell tome, but regrettably, it isn't here. It's in my home at the Imperial City. I can teach you without it, but it could take hours. I suppose you still want me to?" "But of course, assuming you have the time. Being able to hide myself and still cast spells would be immensely useful, even if I am slightly easier to see. Imagine...the chaos...." said Brutus, letting a deep smirk snake across his face. "This will make an idea of mine much much easier if I can master this spell. What level of difficulty is it?" "It depends on the magnitude." Endar stood up and crossed the room, over to his dresser. Other than his footsteps, the only evidence of his presence was a very faint wisp of an outline. It could be mistaken for a trick in the light, or missed entirely if one was not aware that he was there. "This is not the work of a spell, but of an alchemical formula I have recently discovered. To cast a spell that cloaks you this effectively, you would need to be nothing less than a master, and spend lots of time working at it. That may take longer than you'd like. However, I could easily teach you some weaker versions that you could have down by tomorrow. They will not hide your outline quite as effectively, but they will still hide you well. If you remain still, you will practically be invisible." "I can utilize that rather well. Then I can practice it on my own and eventually after some time master it. In the immediate future however, I will simply make do with the weaker versions." "Alrighty then. We will work on that the next time we practice spells." The dresser opened, and Endar's red worn out Telvanni robe hovered out. He stared at it for a moment. It was a relic to him, one that he'd been carrying for hundreds of years. The Telvanni markings were still as prevalent as they had been the day he'd left the house. Some day, He'd always told himself, I'll replace these. He had yet to do it though. Even though it'd been over two hundred years, Endar had never made the time. Endar put on the robe and effects, which vanished as soon as they rested on him without being held up. He then turned and looked at Brutus, who was still standing there. "So is there anything else?" Brutus put his chin in the palm of his left hand and tapped his chin under his bottom lips with his fingers while looking up at the ceiling. Thinking. He knew what it was that he wanted to ask, but he also didn't want Endar to guess what it was that he was up to. At least not yet. "Could you summon some of the creatures that you are able to from the Shivering Isles? A quick demonstration?" "A demonstration?" Endar's invisible eyebrow went up again, this time staying. "I could. Are there any specific..." His voice trailed off as he noticed the sand reaching a niche he'd put into his hourglass. "One moment please..." Three...Two...One. Endar looked at his hands. They were still cloaked. "Hmm..." He moved back to his desk and, without sitting down, began scribbling away in his journal again. Same dosage. Different effect. Temperature maybe?... No, I've kept it constant. It must be my own body that is the independent variable. Rate of heartbeat perhaps, or maybe my stress level. I'll have to do some tests on Elara for this in the future. Finally, after jotting one last note, he closed the book and looked back at Brutus. "I'm sorry, what were we talking about aga- Oh right, the Shivering Isles creatures. Yes yes, I can help you as soon as this spell wears off. I need to record the exact time that it does. Is there anything you'd like to know in the meantime?" Brutus started giggling like a little girl at the question. There was indeed a question that Brutus wished to ask. "There was a little interesting tidbit in the journal you gave me...something I'd like to test. Care to bear with me for one moment?" "Of course. Jeff pays me by the hour." responded Endar. Brutus thought for a minute to correct Endar on Jem's name, but then thought better of it. It would be funny to see him get it wrong from a genuine lack of interest in the man. Something Brutus didn't think he was accustomed to. Or perhaps he was. It would explain his need to come and bother people he apparently thought were "beneath him". "Okay then....do you like fishsticks?" said Brutus. It is important to note that fishsticks sounds like something else as well if you pay attention to how sticks is said. This was apparently key to the magical properties of the word that worked also as a dance, a state of mind and a greeting. Endar didn't quite smile, but the edge of his invisible lip did curl up a tad. The concept of the fishstick was one of the more interesting ideas that he'd found in his quest for knowledge of the Madgod and his Isles. He'd had to plunge deep into the depths of the minds of the more maniacal Isles citizens that he'd spoken with to learn what he presumed to be the truth behind it. It had more than one meaning, and use. It could range from a state of mind to a direct explanation of your very existence summed up in only a couple of words. "I'm afraid not." answered the wizard. "Do you?" "Why I love fishticks!" Proclaimed Brutus gleefully. He knew the meaning, but played along regardless, seeing as that Endar knew the meaning clearly and wouldn't subject himself to it's power. "Hmm, right..." Endar was skeptical, but he figured that it didn't much matter. "If what you say is true, many residents of Mania would claim that you are a male fish lover. Perhaps even a fish yourself. Though I doubt any of that is true of you. Actually, it's because of the emphasis on the-" Endar stopped talking when he heard a flash, and looked down to see that he was now completely visible again. He immediately looked at his hour glass. Three minutes, twenty four seconds longer than last time. For a third time, he wrote his findings in the journal before closing it and putting it into his bag. He then put on all of his rings, and grabbed his staff. "Alright, enough about the fishsticks. Are you ready for your demonstration?" "Yes, but are you sure that that phrase doesn't have some kind of power within the Isles? Perhaps somehow it has the ability to make you a homosexual fish. Or those words could mean something else entirely...or exactly what it sounds like, a joke. This is the realm of the mad after all. But I always saw Sheogorath as the kind of mad that had truth to it...but if he is the mad god, he'd reflect all kinds of madness...Perhaps...oh, right! Sorry. Please, continue with your demonstration." Brutus sat on the floor criss-crossed in anticipation for the demonstration. Endar gave a puzzled look when the Count sat on the floor of his chambers. Enough so that he forgot to respond with his own theories of the power behind the words. "You don't think we're doing it in here do you?" Summoning the beasts of the Isles in his own room could be problematic. For one, some are pretty large, and could knock over some of his things, and two, the wards he'd placed on the room could prevent them from reaching their full magical potential if that is what Brutus wished to see. "Oh, my mistake. I assumed you'd start with the...Dark Seducers....nevermind, to the throne room!" said Brutus, charging his way out and through the hall as he did. Endar followed close behind. Upon reaching their usual spot in the throne room, He stopped and leaned against his staff. "Now one of the first things you should remember about creatures from the Isles is that, no matter what they look like, they are in fact dangerous. The Dark Seducers, also known as the Mazken, may look attractive, but any one of them could easily rip the best four guards you have to pieces. Then there is the Gnarl, which looks like a simple twisted up dead tree, but is actually a powerful Daedra that can rapidly grow to be as large as a house. The Daedra themselves are a very good representation of the Madgod's unpredictable mind... Now, you read the book, what would you like to start with?" Brutus stuck out his tongue while he contemplated for a while, until he finally decided what he wanted to see first. "I would like to see one of the Madgod's Golden Saints! I think a conversation with one of them should be more interesting, seeing as how they represent his more Manic state, which is more like me than not, I believe." Endar nodded. "You would be surprised." With a red flash of his palm, a Golden Saint, also known as an Aureal, appeared before them. She stood a good head taller than most humans, even your average Nords or Orcs would not match her height. The Daedric woman wore heavy looking golden armor that would probably be very effective if not for the fact that it covered so little of her. If she hadn't been wearing the distracting armor, her most notable feature would be her eyes, which were a deep amber color, with almost cat-like slits rather than normal round pupils. She stood at attention, unmoving. Endar had summoned her many times before, and unlike the Dremora from last week, she had the discipline to remain quiet until words were needed. Brutus was all eyes at this point and wanted to be all hands...but he restrained himself. Barely. For the sake of research and to learn more about the madgod. Brutus walked up to the daedra, her breasts being on eye level for Brutus, and eye level his eyes remained, even while speaking to her. "Ah, a servant of my lord! Pleased to meet you! What is your purpose in the realm of the Shivering Isles?" She responded with a stern, no-nonsense voice, seemingly not even noticing the way Brutus looked at her. "The Aureal are the true and favored guardians of Lord Sheogorath's realm. We serve and protect our lord's citizens, and uphold his laws." Brutus finally took his eyes off of the bull's eyes in front of him and looked up to the Aureal, his face betraying his confusion. He was more confused than he'd ever had been in a long while. "Wait, wait. Aren't you the guardians of the land of Mania? You don't sound very manic at all. Or mad in any way really. You are a creation of the Madgod? Tell me, if you are a creation of the madgod, what is the "true" the meaning of "The Fishstick? I say true in a very loose way, since true has no meaning to Sheogorath. But what does it mean to you?" The Golden Saint looked at Brutus with a hint of annoyance on her face. Who was this mortal to question whether or not she was a creation of the Madgod? "The fishstick is beyond your comprehension mortal. I would advise that you do not pursue it further outside of the Isles." "Uck! NO! This cannot be! You are supposed to be an aspect of Sheogorath yet you are just as arrogant as the servants of Mehrunes Dagon! Tell me the Madgod isn't like this as well?!?!" said Brutus, his eyes pleading, begging for her not to confirm his fear. "How dare you question the Madgod's con-" Endar held up a hand to silence her before he spoke up. "The Aureal act as guards for your lord's realm, but they are seemingly saner, at least in most aspects, than his residents. They are unconditionally loyal to their lord, and if you were to point out a form of madness that they represent, it would either be too much conviction, or jealousy. They despise the Dark Seducers for the fact that they have the honor of guarding half the realm, and they look down on mortals because, unlike a Saint, they can gain Sheogorath's favor. The Madgod, like all Daedra, can feel jealousy, but he embraces it, and often twists it into something else entirely. Though no, he is not likely at all like the Aureal in personality. If one madman hears voices and is extremely paranoid, does that mean that Sheogorath is only that as well? He embodies ALL forms of madness, not just what you stereotypically think when picturing a madman." Brutus took in some deep breaths to calm himself. Putting a fist in front of his mouth, Brutus cleared his throat before continuing. "Ah yes. Pardon me. I just got my hopes up and expected his servants to be more like him. It makes sense that they embody a certain kind of madness rather than all like he. I myself said that the other daedra as arrogant as they can be emody madness themselves. Clearly he has seen this himself. This one just reminded me all too much of Jem. He himself acts as if he is so above me. As if he too could live forever. Perhaps that arrogance blocks something of his own. Some insecurity. But what? Hmm. No matter, you can dismiss this one. I'd like to see the Mazken now. If this one was not what I expected, it should be interesting to see what they are like. I'd expect them to be more "dark" as their names would suggest, but we'll see." Endar complied, and the Saint vanished back to the Isles, only to be replaced by a Dark Seducer, the guardians of Dementia. Her face looked less stern, if of course, you could actually get yourself to look at it. Her black armor, if it could even be called that, covered the bare minimum, exposing much of her light blue skin. It made the scantily-clad Golden Saint look like a knight in full plate armor. Other than the tiny dark pupils, her entire eyes were a piercing blue, with no white at all to be seen. She looked at Brutus, and unlike her Mainian counterpart, she acknowledged him first with a nod. Brutus began to laugh as he saw his silly mistake. Putting a hand over his face, Brutus said, "These daedra did in fact mirror the madgod after all. How did I not see? I should have waited to pass judgement til after I saw both! They are opposite sides of the same mad coin! I always say that we are all the same as maggots on the same level, which is in a way true, but certain beings do tend to think in a way that others like myself can't comprehend. Not that they are higher, just vastly different. The "Golden Saints" act nothing like saints at all, but in fact act like pompous assholes. Not much different from our priests and such that would deem themselves saints. This one I expected to be more forceful, oppressive. Like a "Dark Seducer", yet already I can tell this is not so. It is such a basic illusion, I should have seen it from the start. Together, they make up the basic concept of illusion. Being not what you expect it to be. And illusion and madness are tied together so well, it should have been obvious. Illusion distorts your concept of truth. These daedra do this perfectly by their misleading names and appearances. So simple. So, Mazken. What are your opinions of mortals?" "Depends on the mortal." answered the Seducer with a shrug. She seemed to think this answer was satisfactory, as she didn't go any further into detail. Brutus agreed with her. It was a satisfactory answer. The manor of which she answered was more than enough to get the answer he needed. "Ah, good answer! That is something you'd never hear from a dremora. With your shrug, I can tell that you have a sort of indifference to us. Not because you necessarily view yourself as above us, but because you are not threatened by us. As Endar said, the Golden Saints are jealous, not just of you, but of mortals as well because we can gain his favor on a level they never could. But that is likely true for you as well, yet you do not seem bothered by it. Why is that, Mazken? And is any of what I said accurate in your opinion? If so, why are the Saints so jealous but not the Mazken?" Endar watched with interest. For the most part, Brutus was spot on, however he was wrong about one detail that the Mazken would surely make clear. They may mask it differently, but they are every bit as jealous of the Golden Saints as the Saints are of them. Apparently, the two are constantly vying for their lord's attention. They crave it, and even fight one another over it at times. "We are not jealous of those stuck ups because we know that Lord Sheogorath prefers us to them." She didn't sound angry when she said it. In fact, she seemed happy to share these "facts" with the mortal. In Crucible, she rarely got a chance to speak with someone who actually wanted to know the truths about her people. "We are his favored warriors and servants, and are proud of where we stand, and so we have nothing to be jealous about. As for mortals, if one has earned our lord's favor, then they obviously deserve it." Brutus smiled a bit in admiration of the daedra. If the Madgod had a favorite, which Brutus expected he did not and simply enjoyed the conflict, he'd think it would be them. "I like you, Mazken. You and the saints are if you don't mind me saying, like two lovers with Sheogorath as the husband. But to me, the Mazken seem like the wife that knows her husband favors her, and for that does not show much jealousy while the saints are the maid that relishes in their temporary bouts together, but realize nothing will ever come of it. You both seem strangely sane, but in that regard you both are truly the embodiment of madness. I'd bet some would say the same of myself..." But what you don't realize is that Sheogorath uses you both all the same. Taking no favorites and having the best of both worlds. A bit of a sad existence, but the Mazken have the better of it. The Dark Seducer didn't answer, but she did let a little smirk cover her face before she was banished back to Oblivion by Endar. "Anything else?" asked the wizard. "I'm afraid the rest are far less pleasing to look at." "Just one more thing. So far I think I've learned something about Sheogorath after all. Something that I may not have quite expected. Some would say that the most powerful emotion that we have is love. Others would say love is a lie. Perhaps it is, but don't you see? This is why he chose to make the Mazken and the Golden Saints the way they are. Love is madness. Perhaps I should tr-, no. I already am in love. With him in a way, or madness and illusions. The Daedra Lords love themselves, an even greater madness, and those who are married? Ha! They are truly mad! I have great respect for those who would willfully subject themselves to such lies, or at least I would if they knew it was. Yes, I agree. Love is the most powerful emotion we have, because love is the greatest, and THE most universal form of madness! Lady Mara...I may have misjudged you....Anyway, there is one last thing that I would like you to summon..." Upon hearing the specific creature that Brutus mentioned, Endar cracked a smile. Unlike the Saints and Seducers, who were intelligent, this one wasn't. In fact, while it was every bit as unique as any other creature from the Isles, it did not stand out as one that he would expect Brutus to mention. Not first anyway. That is, unless he'd read about its unique and less known properties. He must have... If that's the case, this will be interesting indeed. Endar nodded slowly. "Yes... I can do that." Brutus cracked a deep deep smile, betraying his his emotions and likely revealing that he was up to something. But that wasn't exactly a surprise. At least not to Endar. Someone else, however would most certainly be surprised. "Time to get things into motion. Afterwards, I need to speak with you about something else. Then...then we can get things started." Endar nodded. This time, he was genuinely interested in whatever it was that Brutus had in store. He raised his hand and clenched his fist tightly, surrounding it with the usual magical red aurora. The creature Brutus requested appeared before them. As his gaze turned from the Daedra to the Count, Endar could see in the human's eyes that he was more than excited, he was downright giddy. But there was something else there. A confidence of sorts, born of knowing that you have just won a victory without even fighting. If Endar was right, then Brutus's plans were going to be straight from the book of Sheogorath himself, and even though he wouldn't admit or even mention it, Endar was now, for the first time, betting on Brutus.

Dales, Lorgar, Gracchus, Tullius, Catia, Milly, Imperial City, Afternoon, The chapel was quite spacious, and filled with rows and rows of benches. The floor was stone, and there were altar's to all nine divine located inside. Stain glass windows let the light shine in, causing a sort of ambiance only a church would poses. It was a beautiful building overall. The carpet in the middle of the room flowing towards the front was purple, with gold lacing. Abut half the pews were full, mostly with nobles and other important members of society, but there was quite a few legionaries. In the front pew, was Lord general Ceno, and High-General Tullius of the imperial legion. Tullius looked like he was going to die of excitement, "My Lorgar is getting married..." He said with as sniffle and smile on his face. Gracchus sat between Catia and Tullius, who sniffled like he was Lorgar's mother. He turned to his left to look at Catia, who was dressed in a blue silken dress with silver trimming. Gracchus wore his ceremonial armor, but unlike the standard gold and red his had a black body with red accents. His cape was the opposite, red with black. Catia noticed he was looking at her. So Gracchus began talking. "So, what do you think about having our wedding here?" Gracchus asked in jest. Catia smiled sarcastically. "Sure, only of you're paying." Gracchus chuckled, and responded to Tullius. "It is nice he found someone. I honestly never thought it would happen." "I thought he was going to marry some tough nord-woman from Skyrim or Solsthiem" Tullius said sarcastically. He wore the standard armor of a general, along with a red and gold cape. "Who would thought it was actually going to be a normal, and sweet, noble from court." "Heh, I'd hardly say anyone here in the Imperial City is normal. But she seems sweet, if somewhat shy." Gracchus glanced around nervously, looking over the nearby wedding-goers, who he decided were sufficiently lost in their own conversations. He lowered his voice, so much so it was barely audible. "What about the thing we discussed the other day? What have you discovered?" Tullius's glanced around, to see if anyone was watching, "I did some digging, I know quite a few officers in the Pentuilas Occultus, me serving as a captain in it twenty years ago." He double checked, looking around, "I was only given the phrase "Bloodwolf"." Gracchus nodded, trying to subtlety hide it from everyone. "Bloodwolf? It does sound like something Lorgar would create. But what does it mean? What is he up to?" "In the Occultus, we used a combination of a anything mixed with an animal to codename operations and orders. Like "Sea Lion". He's planning something, and this "Blood Wolf" sounds violent." "Knowing Lorgar, it will be. I think this wedding is the most non violent thing he's ever done. I just hope it doesn't hurt the Empire, this operation of his." Tullius laughed, before smirking mischievously like a child, he started to stroke his stubble, "There was his Yuri. Say..." Tullius said, his grin growing even wider, "I wonder if his very-soon to be wife knows about his strange tastes in literature." Gracchus laughed as well, thinking about Lorgar's books. "Undoubtedly so. Their first date was to a bookstore I believe." Winking, he said "Do you think he asks her to act out scenes with other ladies from the books?" Gracchus burst out laughing, the wink from Tullius setting him off. Catia also chuckled, having heard the last few parts of the conversation. "That wouldn't surprise me! He always has been a bit strange," she said. Gracchus added, "I've also noticed he gets a strange look in his eye whenever he sees two women nearby. Almost as if he's....fantasizing." "You should be careful around him Catia. Maybe he was "imagining" thinks when you talk to your female customers." Said Tullius coyly and jokingly, Catia smiled, and leaned out over to better talk to Tullius. "He can keep on dreaming, because that's never going to happen!" Gracchus laughed at the comment before saying, "Yeah, she doesnt even play out my fantasies!" "Hmmmm...." Said tullius, imagining something in his twisted mind, "I wonder what Gracchus fantasizes about." Tullius chuckled, before stretching out, "Enough, it's rude to talk so vile behind someones back, especially during the day of there wedding." Gracchus winked at Catia, and nudged Tullius with his shoulder. "Wouldn't you like to know! But you're right, we better not talk about Lorgar until he's here to blush and get all red in the face!" "I'm already here...." Said a polite, civil, and somewhat morbid voice, though it was tinged with friendly coyness. It came from the corner nearest to the trio. A man emerged from the shadow's, he was clad in a dark long coat, with silver lacing and gold colored buttons. Underneath, he wore the tradition ceremonial armor of the Pentiulas Occultus, grey and black, but with a wolf carved on. The man was the groom, and man of the hour, Lorgar Grim-maw, who had a friendly, and jokingly smile on his face, "LORGAR!?, Ummmm, Gracchus, Catia, tsk tsk tsk, making fun of Lorgar literature." Said a surprised, and pleading Tullius. "Hahahahahahaha!" Gracchus clutched his side, bursting at the seams seeing Tullius try and cover his tracks. "Oh, you have nothing to worry about old man. Look, he's smiling, so you know he's not mad!" He looked to Catia, before winking at her "Hmmmm, maybe Tullius is right, maybe i'm imagining you doing something dirty with the priestess over there?" Lorgar said, his grin forming into one of his trademark wolf-smiles. Catia smiled, before letting out a "Hmph." "You can keep dreaming Lorgar. And you too Tullius. What goes on in our bedroom is none of your business! Although I'm sure you would loooove to know." Lorgat shrugged, "Not interested, right Tullius?" he said, gripping his old friend's shoulder. Tullius nodded, before winking, "I heard, Gracchus calls in all the bar wenches, and him and Catia get it down." Lorgar sighed, "Your a pervert, you know that?" Tullius chuckled, "You know you love me for it..." Lorgar, took out a cigar from his coat, but before he could light it. The priestess in-charge shouted, "Heh, no smoking in the church." Lorgar, disapointdley groaned before putting the unlit Cigar back into his coat pocket. "It seems not even the man of honor can smoke on his wedding day. I guess the divines aren't too partial to smoke!" Catia said, with a light chuckle at the end. Gracchus nodded, and added "The status of duke doesn't seem to reach as far as grouchy priestess." "Dont even worship them, and i'm forced to oblige by there rules." Said Lorgar, in a slightly grouchy voice. He started to straighten out his coat, and his already neatly done hair. "Getting married, who would have thought..." "Especially to someone so unlike you," Gracchus said. "And what's that suppose to mean-" Before Lorgar could finish, he was interrupted by the priestess once again, "Attention guests, the cermonies are about to get underway in five minutes". Lorgar nodded to the trio before saying, "Wish me luck". And with that Lorgar rushed to the front of the church. Catia and Gracchus yelled in unison "Good luck!" as Lorgar rushed forward for the ceremonies. I'm glad he found someone. Maybe it'll keep him from continuing this Bloodwolf plot of his, Gracchus thought. Just as the cermony were about to began, Gracchus could hear "Good day your majesty" and the sounds of people getting out of there pews to bow. Empresss Dales moitre entered the front row pew from the left side, and took a seat beside Catia. She wore a red/white dress, and a gold emerald necklace. Her brilliant blonde hair was messy, as if she rushed to get to the church. "Hello Gracchus, good day Tullius." Said the young empress. Catia bowed her head, and greeted the Empress. "Good day your majesty." Gracchus bowed his head as well. "Your majesty. This is my fiancée, Catia, who owns the esteemed Laughing Fox Tavern." "Ah this is your fiancee?" Said the curious girl. The empress eyes turned towards Catia, and took in every detail on her face. Dales smiled, before gently taking her hand and kissing it softly. Her eyes were slightly...odd. "I am Empress Dales Moitrte. A pleasure" Catia took her hand away gently but in a way that suggested that she wouldn't allow it to be kissed again, as she too noticed the look in the Empress' eye. "It is a pleasure to meet you." Her eyes became slightly annoyed, but only for an unnoticeable second. She nodded happily before scanning the area in front, "Did I miss anything?" Gracchus nodded, then proceeded to explain the previous conversation. "Well, we discussed Lorgar's taste in literature, but nothing else." "Huh?" Dales seemed confused. Tullius nudged Gracchus's arm, as if to say "dont tell her". Gracchus' cheeks reddened a bit, but he gathered himself. "Oh, he just loves books. You couldn't tell it by looking at him though." Tullius nudged his arm again, as if to say "Remember, what he reads is what she does." Dales chuckled a bit, she stretched out her arms, and started to fix her long blonde hair. "Well, looks can be deceiving as they say." Catia replied this time, smiling pleasantly at the Empress. "Yes, yes they can." Dales laughed soothingly, before winking at Gracchus, "General, you old dog... you never told me how...radiant your fiancee is." Gracchus sputtered, unable to think of something to say, but Catia was quick to reply. "Oh, he's just a little shy when it comes to talking about me." "I cant imagine why..." Dales said, with a slight flirtatious tone to her speech. "So, have you meet Countess Marella before?" Dales said, inquirous. Gracchus cleared his throat, still getting over the fact the Empress was hitting on his fiancée. "Uhm...erm...yes we, uh, met her at the Fox. And we also beat some men up for her, but that's not something I would like to get into..." "Oh, you beat up people for the girl?" She turned to Catia, before smiling coyly and saying, "You should watch your husband when he's around the countess, as should Lorgar." Tullius began to choke up in laughter after he heard Dale's say that. Gracchus turned redder than a tomato, his cheeks flushing and his voice leaving him as he floundered about, searching for anything to say. Catia jumped in, laughing just as loud as Tullius, but calmed herself to save her husband to be. "Don't worry, I'll keep him on a right leash, if you catch my drift," she said with a sly wink, acknowledging the last part was just jest. "Oh...I can assure you, I will be doing the same, keeping my husband on a very tight leash..." Winking at Catia. She glanced around, before whispering, "I think it's about to start." Gracchus sighed, glad to finally be done with the awkward conversation. His cheeks still burned red, but by the time the Empress whispered about the ceremony started, they were back to their normal color. As Dales predicted, the ceremony was indeed about to begin. The priestess once again entered and had told everybody to take there seats and cease the chatter. Lorgar himself waited nearby the shrines, tapping his foot nervously and impatiently. Finally, the large wooden doors of the church busted open, sending in rays of sunlight into the stone building. Countess Marella walked into the church, flanked by two of her "ladies-in waiting". She looked...much different then she appeared during the encounter in the fox. She didn't have her golden spectacles on, which made her eyes seem much larger then they were. Without them, her splendid Lapis Lazuli eyes shone like the waves of the ocean. Her face, which was downward and obscured in the fox, was a healthy peach color and revelaed to be highly attactive, with a bright and cheerful smile. Her hair, which was slightly messy and plain, was bright golden and was done in a medium length hair style, with two long stands of hair flowing downward in the front, while the rest was done up in a bun. The long dress she wore, was snow white, and embroidered with white, pink, red, and blue flowers. In other words, she was as different as night and day. Gracchus leaned over to Tullius, nudging him in the ribs with his elbow. "Is that the same girl from the Fox?" Tullius, who looked shocked, responded to his friend with, "No...damm...Lorgar scored big...is that really the mouse we saw at the fox?" Catia punched Gracchus in the shoulder, causing him to hit Tullius as well. "Be nice you two, and shhhh!" "Ouch!!!!" said Tullius before becoming silent. Dales, whom was silent and courteous , had an odd look in her eyes, she muttered along the lines of "Lucky Lorgar..." Catia smiled, laughing a little. "Yes, he's quite lucky." Millera continued to stride towards the front of the church, her long dress flowing at the back. She proceeded down the church with grace. As she finally neared her Fincee, who was smiling. The priestess began the ceremony with with usual prattle, and it contained for a good fifteen minutes, asking for blessing for the new couple from all nine of the divine. After awhile, and finally, the priestess said the words, "Do you, Duke Lorgar Grim-maw of Blackwood, take Countess Millera Queantis of Chorrol, as your wife?" Lorgar, cleared his throat and said, "I do" The priest turn towards Milly, before saying "Do you, Countess Millera Quentis of Chorrol, take Lorgar grim-maw as your husband?" "I do", she said. The priestess, muttered, "Then by the power granted to me by the nine divine, I name you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride." With those words, Lorgar leaned in and placed a passionate kiss on the countess, who blushed slightly, but returned it with equal passion. Gracchus stood, grabbing Catia's hand to pull her up as well. They began clapping, and soon everyone joined in. Gracchus let out a catcall whistle, aimed embarrassing Lorgar. Tullius and Dales stood up as well, and joined in the applause. Tullius winked at Lorgar, and along with Gracchus catcall, causing him to chuckle as he wrapped his arms around the countess, picking her up into his strong arms, and carrying her bridal style, which made her laugh and put her arms around his neck. Dales, winked, but it was aimed at both the bride and groom, causing both to blush at the same time. Gracchus grinned, so happy for the newlyweds. He looked at Lorgar and mouthed "Confratulations" before grabbing Catia's hand and holding it tight, brushing the back of it with his thumb. Lorgar, holding the countess in his arms, busted open the tall wooden doors of the church, while yelling "Party time!!!". The entire church followed him out except the priestess, Dales whom was up, whispered something into Tullius's ears, causing him to grin. She walked towards the shrine, intent unknown. Tullius who was getting up, told Gracchus, and Catia, "You people going to the party?." Gracchus pulled Catia by the hand into the aisle and yelled to the left-in-the-dust general, "I bet we'll beat you there Tullius!" "Bastard!!!" Tullius, despite his elderly age of 63, ran at very fast speeds, intent on catching up to the pair. **** The party was located in one of the many gardens of the Talos plaza districts. It was quite large, and filled with many different flowers, wooden tables, benches, drinks, food, even a pond. Everything a wedding party would require. Gracchus led Catia to the Talos Gardens, where he found a table near the bride and groom. Both were somewhat out of breath, Catia more so than Gracchus, and they waited for Tullius to catch up. Tullius was only a second behind, noticing the couple, he ran over to join them. "Bastard..." he said grouchily, though jokingly. He took a seat beside Catia and stretched out, "So...you going to tell your children that there mother was hit on by the Empress of Tamirel?" Catia punched Tullius' arm. "Shut it! She's just a young woman, plus she wouldn't have a chance in heck with a hunk like this." She grabbed Gracchus' hand, and he blushed slightly. "Young and confused right?" Tullius said, grinning while helping himself to a chicken wing. "She doesn't understand her feelings, and think she likes girls, right?" He winked, before tearing a chunk of meat off the wing. "No, I'm sure she's quite into girls, but she still thinks she has a chance with older women. Niavety is still strong in most young people," Catia said. She was eating a salad, while Gracchus tore apart the chicken wings as well, albeit in a more civilized manor. "Dales is much more, charismatic then most "young ladies"." Tullius finished the first wing, before going for a second. He tore at it with gusto. He turned his head towards Catia, before saying, "Five septims from you if Dales can land a older lady today, during the party." "Oh, a charming little wager perhaps? Unfortunately, I'm sure there are plenty of still impressionable older women here who would love to bed the Empress, so I'll decline your bet." Catia sipped her wine. Gracchus, listening to the conversation, decided to jump in. "She is very charismatic, so that bets in poor taste Tullius and you know it! Ohhhh the wings are good. And so is the steak!" "Steak?!" Tullius scanned for the table for the mead, not even bothering to acknowledge Catia's refusal, when he spotted it, he grabbed two of the largest ones, and began to devour the first one. He ate like a starving man. A shy-quiet voice interrupted the trio's meal from behind, it was the bride, Countess Quentias, "Hello..." She said, "Thank...you for coming to my wedding" she sputtered, with her eyes glanced downward. She looked as beautiful as she did in the church, and despite her quiet voice, her lapiz lazuli eye's shone bright. Gracchus cleared his throat, before taking her hand and kissing it lightly. "The pleasure is ours, countess. Thank you for the invitation, and as a show of good grace I would like to extend you and Lorgar the same honor. If you'll come, it'll be a private gathering at the Laughing Fox Tavern. And of course, this is my fiancée, and the owner of the Fox, Catia." Catia bowed her head slightly. "A pleasure to meet you. Might I add you look beautiful tonight. And congratulations from the both of us." She withdrew her hand lightly, and slightly fidgeted, as if to retreat from the attention. She said, in the same quiet and shy voice, "I...would like that very much General, and thank you." She slightly bowed her head to both Gracchus and Catia. "I...don't think I deserve your praise, I think I look quite bland" she said blushing slightly towards Catia. Catia waved her hand, dismissing the bland notion. "I only say it because it is true. Today is your day, and you look like a perfect fit for it." Gracchus nodded, backing up Catia. "Quite pretty. Oh, and Tullius, you are invited as well." "Thank you...for your kind words" Said the girl, bowing he head once again. At the mention of Tullius being invited, Tullius grinned, he talked with his mouth full of chicken "Between me, you, and Lorgar, I don't think there'll be enough Chicken wings at your wedding for the rest..." Catia replied to the Countess. "You are very welcome." She then turned to Tullius, and laughed at his comment. "Well you may just have to eat some steak than, huh?" "I'm sorry Catia, i'm afraid there might be no steak after Mister piggie over there is done with it..." Said another voice, which was slightly cold like usual, but also filled with friendless and warmth. The groom sneaked behind the old general, before putting him in a head lock, and giving him a nugee, "OUCH, OUCH STOP IT YOU BIG OAF" Tullius pleaded as he tried to escape the strong arms. "Leave him be," Gracchus said. "He just wants to eat every single chicken wing here! Congratulations on the wedding, Lorgar." Catia turned to look at the new husband. "I was just invited your wife here to our wedding, so I'll go ahead and let you know as well. It'll be at the Fox, and Gracchus will inform you if the date soon enough. We haven't decided yet. Also, even though she doesn't believe me, she is looking gorgeous tonight." Lorgar ceased his assault on Tullius's head, before nodding at Catia, "Ah, thank you, both me and Milly here will attend." He gently put his head,on her small shoulder, and hugged her from behind. "She's right you know, your radiant...". Milly blushed a deep shade of red. Just then, the assembled group could hear "Good day your majesty" and people rising from there seats. Dales ran over to the group before, nodding her head, and congratulating the bride and groom. She took a seat, besides the countess whom had now taken a seat, and helped herself to some salad. Catia and Gracchus both stood and bowed, with Gracchus saying "Your majesty." They both say down and went back to eating. Catia looked up from her salad, directing her attention to the Empress. "How is your salad, your majesty?" "Quite nice..." Dales said, with a smile. Tullius who was devouring another steak, grinned before saying, "Ah your majesty, how did it go?" Dales returned the grin aimed at Tullius, and said "Very well, my dear general..." Gracchus looked up, finished with his steak. "What were you doing, Empress?" Dales ate a few more leafs of lettuce, before addressing the lord general, "The priestess at the church seemed quite lonely by herself, and since I didn't want her to her daily prayers to the divine alone, I decided to join her." Dales winked, "We prayed to Dibellia together." Lorgar who was listening in on the conversation, started to choke up on his rice after hearing that, Gracchus burst into laughter at Lorgar choking, almost causing himself to choke on the wine he was drinking. Milly, started to tug onto Catia's shoulder, like a child, before shyly saying, "Why is the Lord-general laughing? What's so funny about her majesty praying with a priestess? Catia lowered her voice almost whispering to the Countess. "Well, our esteemed Empress, um...well she likes women, and Dibella is the God of sex and debauchery, so..." Milly looked at her curiously, before the dawn of realization hit her, "OH...I see...that's why my husband chocked on his food..." Tullius, who continued to grin, told Catia "Shit...if you just accepted the bet, I would have won..." Catia smiled, shaking her head. "Tsk tsk tsk...I don't believe the priestess was at the party dear general. The five septims would've been mine." Tullius continued to grin, "No...no...no...I said "during the party", not at the party. I would be the one with the five septims my dear..." Lorgar, who had recovered from his "Yuri-choke", cleared out his throat, "I dont think this is an appropriate discussion..." Gracchus laughed, waving his hand at Lorgar. "It is all in jest Lorgar. It seems Tullius would've won had they bet. Sorry honey." Gracchus planned a kiss on Catia's cheek, taking the sting out of "losing" the bet. Lorgar, feeling better, planted a kiss on Milly's lips, and saying "I love you." Tullius, who was watching the two couples, put his head to the table and whined "All alone..."

Skjari, Maggie Imperial palace Evening The instructions on how to use the scrolls were quite complex. Skjari had spent several hours figuring out what is and what is down in this magic. Now he felt that he was nearing a complete understanding but was still unsure about a few details. One of the moth scrolls lied on his desk while the other two had been placed at an empty spot in the bookshelf. The hidden liqueur storage was still open and the Divine fire bottle still littered the edge of his desk with the flame shaped cork lying besides it. The dragon statue was standing with one wing on the crystal and the head held high like it was on a lookout, it even turned it's head every now and then to look around for anything that could want to take the treasure it was guarding. Skjari himself was sitting behind his desk as he read the book, still only dressed in pants as he did not expect any formal visitors. Then he felt a presence walking down the corridor, it was Maggie's. And when she slowed down and stopped outside his door, he waved his left a little and the door opened on itself. But he was still so occupied with understanding the knowledge in the book that he forgot to tell her to come in. Taking the open door as an invitation, Maggie entered the wizard's study. She had changed from her "theater" dress to a more comfortable silk shift and slippers. "Good evening, Lord Skjari. I'm not disturbing you, I hope." Her eyes made a cursory glance at the desk and its contents, but she waited for his answer before inspecting anything more closely. A thump was heard as he closed the book and looked up at Maggie. "Not really, I could use a break from this book. It describes on how the scrolls work but does a poor job at explaining the basics." Maggie's eyes lit up. "The moth scrolls? So you've made some progress then." She came nearer, glancing at the book before her eyes fell on the little bottle of liquor and its unusual stopper. Leaning down, she laughed as she read the title. "Divine Fire! The riddle is solved. So our poor court wizard enjoyed the simpler pleasures and not just arcane curiosities. I'm something of a collector of spirits myself and I've never heard of this one. May I?" She gestured at the bottle, intending to sniff and perhaps to sample. He gave the bottle a quick glance. "It still got a few drops left so feel free to try it. But a word of caution: it's really strong." Maggie brought the bottle to her nose, then took a drop on her finger and tasted it. "Very pure. Not made by any distillery, this is alchemist work. A touch of wormwood. A scholar's drink to be sure, but more for clouding the senses than sharpening them. Perhaps old Milo had a sense of irony." She put the bottle down and stepped closer, laying a hand on Skjari's shoulder. "I wanted to thank you for the dragon. t was quite a surprise." "I remembered that you said something about that you've been looking for one my old relics. So I figured you would like it." He noticed that the dragon statue on his desk turned around and looked at Maggie with a slight suspicion, maybe because she was a little too close to the crystal or because she brought up it's predecessor. "As you probably already know; it was created to guard things." He gestured with his left hand towards the dragon which had taken a slightly more defensive stance over the crystal. "But it can also work fine as decoration. And I think it should recognize you as it's new owner so if ever want it to change stance and such, you should only need to tell it." "It worked as intended then. My brother tried to pick it up and it singed his precisely trimmed hair." Maggie laughed and looked over at the replacement. "Do you make them, then? I had thought it a relic from one of your past craftsmen." Skjari couldn't help but to smile when he heard what the statue had done to Maggie's brother. "I have a craftsman do the statue and give the details some polish myself with a little magic. Then I make the enchantment and give it life. Have a big one back home even." She looked back to him, wanting to ask where "home" was, but judged that would probably not get an answer. "In any case, thank you. He's precious." Leaning down, Maggie kissed the mage, a lengthy kiss with some heat. When he pulled on her, she fell into his lap and had to break off from laughter. Reclining on his lap and holding on to his shoulders, she said, "I'm not sure who was more depressed, the dragon at being sent away or Raine at being forced to be errand girl. You're terrible, Skjari. That was a torment for the poor girl." She smiled mischievously, obviously not too put out at the maid's problems. "Well I am a bad man." He returned the mischievously smile. If she only knew how bad... "What shall we do to punish you?" Her finger trailed along his cheek, and Maggie felt a stir of desire. She marveled at it a moment. So simple and innocent a thing, this flutter in the belly. Bloodlust was usually strong enough that she hardly noticed it, and the need to manage her illusions for the sake of controlling the encounter. In the case of monsters like Amaund, a simple desire to survive the night. She knew she shouldn't be here. Samuel's warning still rang in the back of her mind. It had only been hours since her confrontation with the hunters and learning that Darius intended to come to the Imperial City. That was exactly why she wanted to be here. Murmuring, Maggie said, "Punishment we shall leave for later. After I thank you properly for your gift." Rising, she swept aside the books and scrolls on his desk to clear a place for herself and perched on it, hiking up her dress and pulling him after her. The Divine Fire bottle fell over, spilling its last few drops onto the desk and clanking against its stopper. No one noticed or cared. **** A couple of hours later, none of them were sure on how much time had passed, they had moved into the bedroom and were now laying on the bed, Skjari was covered in sweat while Maggie appeared almost as fresh as when they had started. "That was... refreshing," Skjari managed to say as he was catching his breath. Maggie laughed and got up from the bed. As she threw on a nightshirt she said, "Your appetites are prodigious, my lord. I'm glad the maids are here to keep you satisfied while I'm occupied elsewhere. Are they trying to tame you? That type of girl usually comes to court hoping to find a rich husband." "I get the feeling that a few of them are trying. But I'm not looking for marriage, so they'll give up eventually." He paused for a couple of seconds to fully calm his breath. "I think the Synod and College of Whispers are up to something." She had gone to his liquor cabinet, rooting in it for something else interesting to try. Over her shoulder she asked, "Indeed? More than their usual squabbles over the table scraps?" "A Synod mage was here a couple of days ago asking for funding and that I returned to the Synod to help out with something, he didn't way what they wanted my help for and said that they would only tell if I agreed. I'd rather not get involved in anything I don't have any real clue about so I turned him down. Then the next day a representative from the College of Whispers came, and apparently judging by her looks and behavior it seemed like they had done some digging on my habits. She wanted me to leave the Synod and join them instead. Even if I turned her down as well, she was quite happy when she left. But I don't think both appearances is a coincident." Maggie apparently had found something she liked, and busied herself on it. "They're always scraping for patrons. Magical research is expensive and they consider it degrading to do enchanting work for the unwashed masses. Meanwhile the legion has been siphoning off recruits to serve as battlemages..." There's a pause and a blue flash of some spell being cast, then she came over to the bed holding two glasses rimmed with frost and containing a clear liquid with the bright smell of lemon and mint. Handing one to Skjari, Maggie sat in a chair opposite him and perched her feet on the nightstand. "I wouldn't worry about them. The state of magic in our poor empire is sad indeed. I have some spies in both schools, but the reports are dull. It would be a nice change if they actually were plotting anything. If you really want to have some fun, have the treasury do an audit of their precious baubles for tax purposes. They have warehouses of the stuff, some of them secret. Or they think that they're secret." She winked, adding, "The crown could use the funds." He took a sip of the liquid, it was quite good but he still preferred mead. "I remember when I trained my own battlemages. Battling across the southern border with elves while the kings of Skyrim bickered over who had the shiniest crown. Speaking of the southern border; apparently there's been a bit of lynching near the border to Valenwood, drunks accusing elves for being spies of the Dominion." "It's easier to blame Mer than to think your neighbor or your own family could be selling you out." Maggie paused before going on. "Are you concerned about violence against the elves?" "No, I'm only concerned about if it will cause too much chaos. I've told Dales that she should let the local regents handle it as long as it doesn't get out of hand. There's bigger things to worry about that than drunks killing a few elves." Maggie seemed to be about to say something else, but changed her mind. "This kind of thing can spread. Bruma is our most troubled county by far, but people use instability as an excuse to exercise their own grudges. The empire has been in a fragile state for a long time. Tensions have been buried so long that I fear we are only in a lull before they burst. I'll be honest, my lord. Dales being so young and inexperienced does not inspire confidence. The slightest sign of weakness in her court could incite much greater violence than a few hangings." "If things get worse, the Legion will get an exercise in how to handle riots." He drew a small sigh. "Sometimes I wish the Dragon Temple still existed. I could use a dragon to roar some nobles and other troublemakers back in line." "Dragons would help, but better if such a thing never comes to pass. I am worried about Lorgar." Skjari got a curious look in his eyes. "How so?" "You can't be unaware that he's on a bit of a vendetta against you. This is the sort of thing which topples governments. A strong monarch would keep order among her advisors even if it meant exiling or executing one of them. Dales cannot do that. She relies on both of you too much." "Lorgar is replaceable. And I have a feeling his time at the court is going to be cut short. The nobles don't really like him and a few have even raised voices about having him fired and stripped of his rank. Then there's the rumors, as I said, he doesn't even hide what he is." "Perhaps why he's moving so quickly to marry a count's daughter. It helped Amaund, for a while." Sighing, Maggie said, "I like Lorgar. The court shouldn't be boring, and he's devoted to Dales, which I find touching. He was never suited to this life, however. The killer instinct must be managed and his was let run wild for too long. If it could be turned loose on the Thalmor, so much the better, but here in the capital it is disaster waiting to happen. And I don't mind saying that for my own reasons, it is worrying if people believe that it is possible for a monster to become courtier." "Worried that people will catch on to you if they find out about Lorgar?" "I would prefer that the public believes such a thing impossible, yes. It's a reassuring illusion, so most people hold to it. Except those who see monsters everywhere. Perhaps Lorgar is the cleverest of us, for hiding his nature in plain sight." She whittled a moment on the frustration that she had hunters chasing her, a courtesan with little power of her own, while a werewolf close to the throne excited no such interest. There was no use dwelling on it. "You've met my brother. Soon my father, Darius Bathory, will be arriving in the capital. I'm not sure when. He will probably try to contact you, especially now that my family knows we are intimate." "How nice." He said with a voice was filled with sarcasm before going back to his casual tone with a slight hint of annoyance. "The only vampires I like to have anything to do with is those like you. I usually prefer if the others just stay away or dig their own grave." Maggie lifted a brow. "You are so negative against my kind? May I ask why?" "My conquest of Skyrim caused quite the stir and your kind didn't like that, so they opposed me. And they were dangerous enough to cause a large problem. Safe to say that they were hunted down and most of them lived hiding in caves or other remote places under my rule." He drew a small sigh. "Most of my vampire dealings back then have ended in bloodshed in one way or another." "Ah. Well, you see that we've avoided that sort of confrontation here, for the most part. Our unique gifts allow us to blend among the populace, but this makes us vulnerable enough that we rely on positive alliances if we can manage them. You needn't expect any such challenge from my father. He prefers to ruffle as few feathers as possible. I'm too much in the public eye for his liking, for instance. It's possible that he won't even try to contact you, if he's confident in the information he has about you from other sources." She wondered silently if Samuel had dealings with the wizard, but decided it was better not to bring up that name. Cautiously she went on, "It would be better if you did not let on to him that you know details about our family. I realize this puts you in an awkward position. Allow me to be blunt. He would kill me without a second thought if he knew I'd spoken about such things to anyone." "Quite the father then? Though don't worry, I won't tell him anything. I can even tell him that I'd prefer that any of my dealings with him go through you. As you know him better than I do." "Thank you. I know you're not easily manipulated or cowed by anyone, or I wouldn't have trusted you to begin with. As for being a true father, no. Though he may put on the guise of protective father if he thinks it could work on you. This visit means we'll have to put off our trip to the south for a time. I haven't forgotten," she said, smiling. "Perhaps we can combine business with pleasure, if you manage to re-activate the dreamsleeve protocols. The gods only know what is happening in the south now that the Thalmor have been driven out of Cyrodiil. Our border regions will be quite unstable and it's likely our agents are all either dead or moving. We'll never find them all unless we can get them to contact us." "I think I should be able to get the magic going by tomorrow. Only a few details left to figure out before I can start." "You may find Thalmor communications, as well. The Thalmor use the dreamsleeve, and some of our agents are placed to divert their missives to us. Of course there's always the chance it's disinformation. Could make for exciting reading. Or there could be complete silence, and that would be very bad for the empire indeed." She paused and tilted her head, regarding him thoughtfully. "You are a good court wizard, Skjari. Your coup may have done more for the empire than even the Medes were able to accomplish, whose hands were always tied by corruption in the Elder Council. Be wary of that nest of vipers. They hate and fear most of all those who don't need their power." "I've gotten a firsthand experience of their venom. One of the council members was quite nice and polite until his position in the Elder Council was secured. Then he started to make demands, threats and behaved rather violently when he wasn't in public. Luckily he got drunk and fell down some stairs. His corpse hadn't even gotten cold before his brother took his seat in the council." He sighed as he leaned back onto the pillow. "Sometimes I miss the old Skyrim, things were more straightforward and deep disputes were settled by the sword, often in duels. People here lack that sense of honor and pride. They prefer to stab each other in the back instead of openly challenge one another." He chuckled. "And now I'm homesick." "Ah, I do not like to hear that." Smiling, she put aside her melting drink and came to the bed, sitting on the edge and leaning against his chest. "I didn't find any of your relics in the markets- not that I could discern, anyway- but I did search some of my library and found a book of old Nord songs. Some of them were very old, and no doubt not even remembered in Skyrim anymore. I found them beautiful. It's remarkable that such a language so harsh to the ear can produce such lovely poetry. There's no musical notation, so you'll have to forgive if I improvise." Maggie sat up straight then and was quiet as she concentrated, trying to remember the words and the tune she had worked out. Slowly she began to sing, the words those of a woman saying farewell to her love as he went to war. Because of her accent, the sounds were rounder and more melodic than they normally would be. When she finished, Maggie smiled again and looked up at him. "Terrible, I imagine, compared to the bards of Skyrim." "Not that bad, and I think I remember the song from my time. Though it's vague memory as I didn't listen that carefully to what the bards sang. And if you find any songs about me, take them with a grain of salt. They're probably either painting me as the greatest hero of all or the cruelest tyrant to have ever walked on Nirn. Bards like to exaggerate in their songs." He sat up. "And now I'm really homesick. I think I'm going home to sleep in my own bed tonight." Maggie watched him as he rose from the bed, more curious than ever to know about this home of his. It crossed her mind to ask if he would take her there, then she remembered Samuel's warning and thought better of it. "I assume, by the casualness with which you say that, that you have some means to travel quickly? I wish you a good journey then, my lord." "You're not coming?" He shrugged. "One more round in this bed before I leave then?" "You would take me? I had not thought you would want an outsider there." "You will not be able to enter certain parts of my home, but yes, I'll take you there if you want." Maggie paused, considering. "Would we be gone long?" "Only for the night and a little bit in the morning. Then I'll take us back to this room." This drew her curiosity even more. Wasn't it important that they try to understand the Witch King's magic, even if only to know its extent? That would be the justification she would give Samuel, though Maggie also felt the little thrill in her belly again. Not arousal, but like it. To experience something wholly different, a small adventure... She stood, approaching him. "I will come with you, then. But I must ask one favor. I will need to feed, even in so short a time. Any mortal will do. A lone traveler, a farm hand out in a field." "I'm sure there are some of these 'potions' left in the home. You are not the first vampire I've bedded." He rose up from the bed and put his arms around her waist. "Relax." He said with a voice softer than she had ever heard from him before. This was no simple request. For a moment, Maggie had an image of Dales, and one of Samuel. Both of these sounded warnings. Is such a life worth its price... For better or worse, however, she had already decided. Resting her hands on Skjari's arms, she lifted her eyes to his. "I'm ready." For a moment everything went black, then the next second they were standing in a really large stone room, with the walls devoid of windows. In the middle was a large bed, big enough to hold several people, and instead of legs it stood on a large solid piece of oak wood with delicate and detailed carvings at at the sides with different ancient dragon and warrior motifs. The cover and pillows on the bed were colored black, red and blue and shared a similar motif. To the left the bed up against the wall were five huge closets a similar smaller one up against the wall on the left side of the bed. The rest of the outer rim of the room looked like some sort of living room and part dining room with small tables with candlesticks and and a few plates goblets, a few different board games here and there and drawers spread in between furniture. Though there appeared to be no roof on the room and instead the night sky could be seen seen filled with stars and some stripes of clouds. "Home sweet home," he said, sounding quite happy and a little relieved. Maggie was dazed for a few moments, and held on to Skjari's arm as she recovered her equilibrium. Her eyes moved around the room before she lifted her head and saw the night sky above. "Beautiful," she breathed. From the position of the constellations, she calculated that they were in northern Skyrim, though made no mention of that. It might be an illusion anyway. Glancing around at the bed and dining room once more, she said, "Are we alone here? You keep no servants?" "No servants. Though I can still use the creatures I 'created' to guard this place to fetch stuff for me. But enough about that, you want to try out the bed?" He said with a mischievous smile. Maggie turned back, returning his smile. "It would be a shame to waste the comforts of home." She pushed him back towards the bed. Still wearing the nightshirt, she lifted it slowly over her head and tossed it aside, then climbed astride and draped herself comfortably on top of him as they lay back on the bed. Brushing one finger along his cheek, she said, "You're an extraordinary man, Skjari. I've not met anyone like you in Tamriel." "I am one of a kind." He said as he brought his lips to hers for a passionate kiss. This, Maggie had no trouble believing. He was also insatiable, a trait she would normally find tedious in a patron, though the Nord was also more generous than any lover she'd had in recent memory. At a third round, her arousal began to turn to something else. At first even this was exciting, but when he began kissing her neck, the urge to make it a feral embrace became overwhelming. "Skjari," she gasped, putting a hand on his arm to stop him. "I'm sorry. I must... You said there are potions here. Please." The light in her eyes had also changed, from the geography as well as from her hunger. Distant from her clan's sources of power, they had the telltale red glow that marked out her kind in Skyrim, though faint. "Second one from the left." He pointed towards the five large closets. "Though you'll have to read the labels as there will be other kinds of potions. I only know it's a red liquid." She rose and went to the cabinet, hands shaking as she moved the bottles, searching for the right one. Opening it, she sniffed almost as she had with the spirits. It had a raw, meaty smell. Vintage Nord. At that point Maggie wasn't picky, and she took a long drink, closing her eyes as the vitality rushed through her. When she opened them, she glanced over the other contents of the closet- some clothes, a stash of mead, nothing out of the ordinary. She needed something to cleanse her mouth, so opened a bottle of mead and drank a little of that as well. It wasn't to her taste but would also do, in a pinch. When she returned to the bed, the glow in her eyes had receded to what seemed merely a healthy sparkle. She took the wizard's hand as he led her back to bed. "The comforts of home. It's nice to get a taste of Nord once in a while. Altmer and imperial are a bit thin." For half a second his facial expression got a hint of disgust. "We like to fight so I guess the blood reflects that." He said and then smiled a little devious smile. "How about finishing up before I go to sleep. Oh, and if you get bored at watching me sleep, there's a library if you head down there and turn left." He pointed towards the wooden door. "But stay away from the conjuration tomes." "You also eat a lot of meat. Thin fare, thin blood." She smiled at his invitation and began to kiss along his shoulder. "I would like that. To see your library, I mean." Moving lower, she let conversation alone, putting her mouth to other uses.

Maggie, Jem, Trym Heart-Hand, Samuel Imperial City morning Maggie woke herself from her trance sleep in her garden as the dew settled on her. While she was dressing, she heard Jem stumble in from wherever he had been the night before. He argued briefly with Gervais, or rather at Gervais, then all was quiet. Gathering up her strewn papers from the salon, she put them in order and took them to her study. Maggie lingered over the outline she had made of a new book, and wondered if she would ever get to write it. Even if it was pointless, she sat down and began to fill in the sketch with more character and story notes. Maybe it would help her mind remain calm when she faced the hunter that afternoon. She was Magdela Bathory, novelist. A normal woman. Some hours later, through the open window, she heard the front door guards and a woman's voice. Warily she went down to see who it was. Maggie recognized one of the maids from the palace, carrying a cloth-wrapped parcel. "Countess, I was sent to bring you this from Lord Skjari," the young woman said, barely concealing her contempt. When the maid unwrapped the parcel, it proved to be the familiar dragon statue from the court wizard's study, though missing its precious blue stone. As Maggie took it, she could feel some residual magicka. Suddenly the little dragon opened its eyes, blew out a sighing puff of steam, and regarded her with a world-weary expression. Maggie laughed. "You poor thing. Demoted to my house, are you? Don't worry, I'll take very good care of you." "If that's all, milady..." "You're Raine, aren't you?" The maid stopped, surprised. "That's right. I'm a maid to Empress Dales." "Wait here, please, Raine. You must take something for your trouble." "I don't want your coin, milady." "Of course not, but you'll want this." Out of curiosity alone, the maid stayed to see what the countess would bring. Soon Maggie returned with a small crystal vial of clear liquid. As she handed it over she explained, "This is oil of wild roses from the mountains of Daggerfall. Very precious, and there is no more exquisite scent in all of Tamriel. This is not for your nights with Skjari, you understand. Nor any other man, for that matter. Their senses are too dull and it would be wasted on them. One drop of this in your bath, however, and you'll be in another world." Raine took the vial, and her sullen expression wavered. After a moment's hesitation, she said, "You could join us, you know. In Lord Skjari's chambers, I mean." Maggie smiled. "Sweet girl. Thank you." Since the countess didn't say anything further, the maid took this to be a "no," and was relieved. At least she wouldn't have to explain to the others why she'd invited her to their fun. "Thank you, milady. I'll be going now." Raine retreated down the walk, glancing back once. Inside, Maggie inspected the statue with curiosity, wondering what it could mean that Skjari had sent this to her. The dragon didn't move again, but its little eyes glowed yellow and it was easy to believe that they were watching back. Maggie thought about Samuel's warning of the previous evening, that Skjari had somehow managed to completely subdue the empress' will to his own. It was the unknown nature of his powerful abilities that made them so unsettling. The elven magicks were known, for the most part; Skjari's was a different breed. This gift could be a trick, a way to watch her, or to implant some kind of magic into her private sphere. She stared at the dragon for a long time, then walked slowly with it to her garden. There was a broken column there, taken from an Akaviri ruin. Maggie put the statuette down and removed a succulent from the covered niche at the top of the column, then replaced the plant with the dragon. He now had a high perch overlooking the garden and its fountain. "It is poetic, I think," she told the little figure, "that you should rule over the remains of a civilization that hunted your kind to near extinction. They are gone, and you are here. This garden is now your treasure to guard." The dragon remained unmoving. Maggie was disappointed, but told herself she was being sentimental. She wanted badly to believe that this was an innocent gift. If she couldn't trust even the smallest gesture, if there was no kindness or beauty in her life that did not come with a poison barb, what was she even fighting for? Maggie went into the house to retrieve the bottle Samuel had given her, and sat in the garden, putting off leaving for the palace as long as she could. Jem found her there. He appeared subdued, even troubled. She watched as he paced around, looking at her flowers and not really seeing them. Maggie expected some insult, but he actually seemed lost. She couldn't help but pity her brother, despite his boorishness. He liked to prate about being the heir to Darius' power, but how could you be heir to a man who would never die? It was only a title, a fiction, and Jem knew it. There was no place for him of his own, just as there was none for her. They were all in Darius' orbit. That was by design. Jem came around to the column and paused when he noticed the dragon statue. "What a clever little beast. Who created it?" He reached into the niche to pick it up. Abruptly the dragon revived, shot a small gout of flame at the invader, and snapped its teeth. Jem drew his hand back quickly, cursing. Maggie, watching this from her seat at the garden table, had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing. Her brother glared at her and back at the dragon, but didn't try again to take it. Eventually he approached and took the seat opposite. After a long silence he said, "I'm leaving today." "You aren't going to wait to see the empress?" "I don't care about her. She won't last six months." "You might be surprised." There was another long pause, and finally Jem said, "I'm sorry about... about everything, Maggie. You know I care about you. You just make me so very angry." She regarded him coolly. It was still her fault, Maggie noted. "Janus, you don't need to pretend that we're real siblings. Not here in private. Not anywhere, really." He glanced up at her, and Maggie was surprised to see that he looked miserable. "What happened to us?" Her lip moved, a small betrayal of her emotions. "You know." Jem shook his head, denying it. "Father only wants what's best for us. He's survived a long time. If he is... the way he is, it's because that's what we needed to survive." When Maggie didn't reply, he asked, "You really have this matter of the hunter under control? I can help you. I want to help." "You can't." There wasn't anything else, so after a time Jem got up to leave. "Goodbye, Magdela." He hesitated, then said, "Be careful of Samuel. He's always coveted Father's position, and he's not above using you to get at the rest of us." Maggie stared after her brother. It was obvious that Jem hated Samuel, even more after their confrontation the previous night, but the thought occurred to her that that might have been staged for her benefit. Was Samuel only working to gain her trust? He had made sure that she had no other way to defeat the hunter than to rely on him. He tried to plant fear in her about Skjari, a man who could rival both him and her father in power. If Samuel wanted Darius' position, what better way to get it than... Maggie forced herself to stop, driving the doubts from her mind. It was too late. The hunter was waiting, and she needed a clear head. There could be no more delays. On her way out, a front door guard asked Maggie if Lord Bathory had apologized to her. She was about to reprimand him for insolence before she realized what must have prompted this question. Samuel. In spite of her doubts, Maggie smiled. She assured the guard that Lord Janus had, indeed, apologized and was free to leave, then departed herself to meet Trym Heart-Hand on the Emperor's Way. ** "She's running late," Iven mumbled, halfway expecting the others to ignore it. She hadn't been present when they had first met with this Magdela Bathory, so she didn't quite know what to expect from the author. Well, maybe some fanciful take to capture the imagination, but what could you expect from such people? She'd eat her own hood if Magdela didn't embellish her story with poetic flare. "Maybe," Trym responded with a distant tone to his voice. His eyes had mostly followed the movements of the different guards and visitors, most of which gave them a look of confusion or suspicion. Morons who had no idea what they were being guarded against. However, for a moment, his gaze returned to the Dunmer who had opened her mouth. "What do you think? About Magdela, I mean." "Our mark? Lives as an author and luxury prostitute for people in power. Hard to say if she's to be trusted. She's clearly not of honest stock, but she'd have a lot to lose. Your guess is probably better than mine; you've actually met her." "And you, Varnus?" To his right an Imperial looked up at them from under his hood, rolling his eyes and looking away again. Nothing to share, in other words. Trym couldn't help but to feel some annoyance with the author as the time passed; he had to agree with Iven that she was running late on their schedule. Soon a woman with blonde hair appeared, walking towards them. She was dressed in a close-fitting dress of burgundy velvet, at first appearances simply the garment of a highborn Colovian, though the square neck was cut lower than it needed to be, and the fabric hugged her curves with no room to spare. All along the Emperor's Way, heads turned as she passed. The woman herself appeared nervous. She stopped once to look back over her shoulder, then continued on towards them. Approaching the trio, she glanced at the Dunmer and imperial, then addressed their leader. "Greetings, Trym Heart-Hand. Who are these people? I wasn't expecting anyone else but you." "Then you're more of a fool than I suspected you to be." Trym raised an eyebrow as he took in her outfit. His eyes rested a moment longer on her chest area than the rest, before his eyes returned to her's. " 'Tis a lovely outfit, but seems rather... odd for a meeting of this kind. Knowing a little about what you do in the city, one would almost think you're playing an angle. What do you say, Iven?" "Quite right. What I want to know is if it is to make sure enough people around pay attention to you to try to make sure we don't do something rash," the Dunmer threw back her hood, revealing a quite beautiful face, marred only by a scar that left a line between the mouth and the nose, accompanied by her people's red eyes and long black hair tied in a ponytail. "Or if it is meant to cloud Trym's judgment." Maggie's expression changing from puzzled to annoyed. "These are your associates, I gather, judging by their cheerlessness and paranoia." She glanced from one to the other, with a subtle arrogance that made it clear she thought it beneath her to explain her attire to such rabble. She then remembered why she was there, and bit her lip nervously. "I'm sorry, but these questions you have put to me may have put me in great danger, and I can't be too careful. I have some information for you. Do you want to hear it, or am I to be subjected to this rudeness merely for agreeing to help you?" "You will have to forgive me, my Lady, but you're not above suspicion. I hunt creatures who manipulate people to stay alive. When a suspect appears to a meeting with a needlessly revealing attire, I tend to question the motives behind it." He didn't seem at all bothered by her objection, beyond possibly a degree of annoyance. "But by all means, send me after some feral, hoping it will kill me. It will only prove my suspicions. I know that whoever is behind this would want to do that, but you needn't bother." ** A short distance away Samuel walked in the direction of the trio, but stopped and leaned against the wall of a mausoleum. He couldn't be too close; he was there to let Maggie know that the plan went ahead as normally, nothing more. Intervening now could do a lot of harm. Looking over at her, he had to let out a smile. Perhaps not the best attire for the situation, but a nice attempt. Too bad there was another woman among them to keep them focused, or else it might have had some beneficiary effect. ** Maggie blinked once. "Feral? A feral vampire, you mean?" She looked around her, as though speaking that word aloud might bring the figures of nightmare out from the shadows. Her eyes passed over Samuel without seeming to see him, then she looked back at Trym. "I asked around about you, Trym Heart-Hand, and found that you are indeed who you say you are. With that assurance, I made inquiries among those who advised me on the writing of my book Camille. Collectors, you know. The type who take an interest in the sordid and arcane." She went on in hushed tone, "Most scoff at talk of the Order, as I would, but the same name came up more than once. Perhaps it's nothing, but if these creatures are actually among us, then you must do what you can to root them out. Have you heard of someone named Maurice?" "Maurice? I've heard the name, but doubtfully regarding the same man you think off. The only Maurice I know is a Keeper of the Vigil in Hammerfell," Trym didn't seem very impressed, but before he was about to make further inquiries, the Imperial that had so far been quiet said something. There was nothing that really stood out about his voice, except how silent it felt. "I have. An information broker, known to deal with less than honest types. I've heard he prefers to work out of the Imperial City." With a slightly surprised look, Trym looked from one Imperial to the other, waiting for an answer from either of them. Maggie swallowed once. "I believe that must be the one. Though perhaps, if he... what if he's masquerading as one of your own? No. No, it must be this other. There was mention of this Maurice frequenting the meaner sort of tavern and brothel here in the city." "After the ressurection of the Dawnguard, we're been given the means to ensure none of our number are what you suggest they might be, but..." Since the other Imperial apparently didn't feel like talking much more, Trym seemed to be waiting in vain for him to make another comment. "I'm sure you've heard more about this Maurice. Rumors fly far and wide." "That is all I can tell you. Please, don't ask me to look into it any further. I already raised eyebrows by asking such questions. My book Camille was written years ago, and now people will think I'm planning to do another like it. I want nothing to do with this." One hand clutched reflexively at the velvet of her dress. "The life of one author seems little compared to that we seek to save." For a second time the hooded Imperial let out a comment, this time leaving Trym with an eyebrow in his direction. Maybe he wasn't so unreasonable after all? Not something to count on, to be sure, but something to keep in mind. Maggie also turned her eyes on the imperial. "To you, perhaps. I don't have your dedication or your training. If this Order really exists, if they think I know something..." She turned back to Trym. "People in my position always have enemies. I am used to that sort of risk, but this is something else. I should never have written that cursed book! Please, don't try to contact me again." She took a step back, obviously trying to end the appointment. "Stop," Trym whispered and took a hold of her arm. He had thrown a casual glance over his shoulder, in the direction of Samuel, and exchanged a glance with Iven. "Let us escort you out of here before you leave. I don't trust the man over there. He seems to be keeping an eye on us. If you're telling the truth, you should be able to provide more, risk or not." The last sentence was said in the same voice as before, but his expression pleaded with her to play along for now. "Who...?" Maggie made as if to look, but stopped herself. "Someone's following me?" The arm under Trym's hand trembled slightly and her breathing accelerated. "I have to get back to the palace. There are royal guard just up there. They're obligated to protect me, but I don't want to be seen with you any longer, sir, even by them. Please leave me." She resisted slightly, trying to pull away from his grasp. "Fine, get out of here," he let go of her, gesturing to the the others as he did. They walked passed them in Samuel's direction, followed shortly by Trym himself. But by the time he had managed to turn around, the man was already gone. "Maurice?" he mumbled to himself, with narrow eyes. Maybe she was telling the truth, or at least as much as she knew of it. "Iven, what do you think of all this? I'm not sure what to think now." "Well, I think," Varnus entered the conversation once again with his short statements. "That we have a new mark. If he's an information broker, he'd be useful even if he isn't what Miss Bathory suggested. More than she would." "I am inclined to agree," Iven added, pulling the hood over her head once more. "For now I think we can trust Miss Bathory. But i'd like to keep an eye on her all the same. Maybe it is the poor first impression, but something seemed amiss." Maggie hurried away, not looking back. The two royal guardsmen posted nearby saw her coming and moved to unsheathe their swords, alarmed. "I'm alright, I'm alright," she said, giving them a reassuring smile. She slowed her pace and dared a look back. The younger of the royal guardsmen was startled when the countess took his arm. It was steady, and she walked with him as though she were going to a court ball and he was her date. Not able to help himself, the guardsman glanced down at the bare cleavage that was now so near. Clearing his throat, he forced his eyes ahead and ignored the smirk from his fellow guardsman. He was just jealous. Some duties were more pleasant than others. Maggie forced herself to seem calm, even nonchalant. The hunters would be following Samuel now. Inwardly she felt a flood of relief, then gratitude. The plan had worked, at least for the moment. Unless he was working with the hunter all along. It could all be an elaborate game to buy this gratitude she felt. Maggie pushed that thought away. Such suspicion made her sick and weary. For now she had survived, and that was the important thing. ** "Trym?" Iven sounded a little bit concerned as she addressed him. "Is everything alright?" No, he thought to himself, but remained quiet. It was not right at all. And whether or not Miss Bathory was telling the truth wasn't at the core of it. This figure, an Imperial from the looks of it, had been listening in on them and disappeared without a trace. Maurice. The good news was that they had a better suspect to chase. The bad was that he knew they were coming. And if the stories of the Order were true, that complicated matters a whole lot. The whole way back to Sideways Cave he remained silent and deep in thought, ignoring Iven at least three times. An information broker who knew they were hunting him. The future was going to be interesting. ** "Sir? My apologies, but I think you're walking with my date for tonight," Samuel tapped the guard whom Maggie walked with on his shoulder. He had changed clothes to dark blue outfit of velvet and had cast a simple spell to make his hair appear dark-blonde instead of his normal brown. That such simple trick were enough to throw people off had been very surprising at first. "It is all my fault; I was late and I feel I have to make it up to her. I am sure you'll understand." The royal guardsmen were about to tackle the man to the ground, but Maggie laughed and said, "There you are, darling. Thank you, gentlemen, your swords are not necessary. Please walk at a distance. I'll call if I need you." The "couple" walked on as if nothing was amiss, Maggie's arm looped around Samuel's. When there was a safe distance between them and the guards, she spoke up quietly. "Is everything alright?" "I think so. It went as well as we can hope for now, though the inner council of their group is hard to predict. I wouldn't act in any way that will rise suspicion on their side in the immediate future." He let out a small laugh, just loud enough for the guard to hear, as if she had said something he found humorous, before he continued in a quiet manner. There was some concern in his voice. "How are you holding up?" "I'm fine. They tried to muscle me off to their cave again. We should be mindful of the possibility that they could try to kidnap me." She glanced at Samuel. "You've played this game before, I gather." "I have. The stakes weren't as high, but this is an old dance which steps I was schooled in from the beginning. And how does that make you feel?" "I understand why you say that you're tired, then. I've never been this close to hunters before. The one that was with him was even worse than this Trym. All my lessons on such things didn't prepare me. The reality is different. So unpredictable." "That is the life to which you've been born, I fear. And compared to what has been in the past, this Hunter poses little threat. I am sure you remember Fiona, the woman I mentioned from my past?" Samuel threw a quick glance around to make sure no one had entered ears range before he spoke, and now his attention was once more returned to Maggie. Of all the men that had been this close to her today, he seemed to be the only one who could keep his eyes of the curves. "She was...? I'm sorry. By a Vigilant like this one?" "Yes, she was taken by a Hunter when her plans collapsed in on themselves. Not a Vigilant, they didn't yet exist, but there has always been people like them," Samuel gave her a smile; one that had an undertone of sorrow and regret. "I didn't even know the war had raged before it was over; it had been her against me, with a local group of Hunters as the weapons. I was put in similar situations more than once, but I could never find out who caused it. Until the Hunters decided that I was not worth their time; they got nowhere with me, thus their attention turned to the only other suspect they had; Fiona. Her web of lies was poorly woven." He let out a quiet sigh. "I had asked her out to see this city as I thought it should be seen by all before the end; in the deepest of night, when the dark has driven the people inside. Next thing I heard is that she had tried to expose and destroy me from the start. In many ways, I think you were right when you said men want the woman in their past or fantasies before they want the woman they have. Even now, even after what I did when I found out, I still remember the woman who blinded me with her presence more than the one who also brought a knife. A fantasy based on a twisted truth. Go on, you're allowed to laugh. I won't think any less of you if you do." "I would never laugh at such a thing." Maggie fell silent. Samuel had described a game much like they were playing now, and all made necessary because of her father. She wondered if such a thing as simple revenge could motivate Samuel to betray her. Hadn't Darius always told her to expect that? The simple plots were always more effective than the elaborate ones. Realizing that she'd been quiet too long, she said, "Thank you for helping me. I know you have your own reasons, but I'm grateful all the same. And thank you for Jem." Her mouth curved in a little smile. "A nice touch, with the door guards." His eyes were kind, but they had a quality to them, apparently activated at will, to make her feel as if he saw everything she was. Had he had the same gaze when they first met? It seemed familiar. "There is something about what I said that unnerved you, isn't there? It is fine, I don't expect you to put your trust in me beyond what you have to. I think I better leave the end of my story with Fiona for another time; I don't think it would do your already thin trust in me any favors. But for what it is worth, coming from me; I... Never mind, it is not important right now. Are you up to date on the latest news?" "We can't ever really trust each other, can we? Not any of us. It is the life to which I've been born." This she said with a bitter note, then added, "The news. You mean Lorgar's impending marriage to our little Chorrol flower?" "No," Samuel replied. "I suppose we can't. And no, I'm not thinking about the impending marriage. Old news. What I am talking about is that your father is coming to the Imperial City, soon." Maggie was quiet, and the arm hooked around Samuel's tensed only briefly. "I suppose it was inevitable. Did he tell you why?" "I'm under the impression he wants to hear about this situation we have here, with the palace and the hunter, himself, but he hasn't said anything to me. I'm only going by an educated guess. For all I know, there could be something completely different." "Very well. If there is something you expect of me, don't hold back. I'm afraid, to be honest. He'll press me on everything." "The only thing I expect from you is to leave him in the dark about a certain matter. Beyond that, I wouldn't presume to ask you to act towards your father after my own tastes." "Why not? My tastes certainly don't suit him," she replied with a grim laugh. Stopping, she turned to face him. "I should return to the palace. The hunters may still be lurking about and I told them that was where I was going." Maggie then paused, her thoughts turning over. With a glance at the royal guardsmen trailing behind them, she remembered that at the very least the ruse of a pair of lovers must be maintained, so she grasped Samuel's hand and stepped forward to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you." Returning to the guard pair, she said to them, "I don't feel well, gentlemen. Let us go to the palace at once." They began walking that way, and Maggie cast a glance back where she had left Samuel. Samuel chuckled to himself as she left him there, but by the time she threw her final glance in his direction he was already gone. Through the graves of the Emperor's Way he walked with his usual confidence, before turning to the Trentius Family Mausoleum. He had a small meeting to attend to, just to keep the business running as usual.

Dales, Skjari Imperial Palace, Morning Light flooded into the royal bed chambers, illuminating off the wooden table. On the table, were bottles of heavy liquor, such as brandy, whiskey, and other drinks. The pillows were piled on the ground, as if someone was trying to make room on the bed. The sheets on the bed were unevenly sprawled across the mattress. Bound and blindfolded on the bed was Empress Dales Moitre, who was snoring loudly and naked. Beside her, sleeping soundly, were her maids Miku and Kongami, gently snoozing at her side. Dales was drooling with her mouth wide open, causing Salvia to fall on Miku’s blue hair, waking her up. With a yawn, Miku stretched her arms out, and proceeded to wake up her fellow maid by kissing her passionately, “My…my…you look ravishing Miku.†Said Kongami sleepily, as she gently pushed Miku out of her way and stretched. A slight smile curved on her lips, as she fixed her long purple hair. She turned to their bound “ladyâ€, and gently felt, ehem, the “Junk on her carriageâ€. Miku lightly told the sleeping empress. "Wake up, your majesty." With a slight yawn, Dales stirred from her sleep, and attempted to stretch out, but to her surprise, she was bound by what seemed to be rope. When she opened her eyes, she couldn't see anything., as if she was blindfolded, which she was. To add even more problems, she had a horrible headache, and couldn't remember what happened last night. A flowery scent filled her nostrils, a scent she recognized. It was Miku. "Miku?" She said in a dreary tone, "Miku is that you?" "Yes your majesty." Followed by another voice, "I'm here as well your majesty." "Kongami? Can you girls get me out his these ropes?" Both the maids started to chuckle, as they gently groped Dales, causing her to moan, "What are you two doing? Let me go. I have work." Miku responded in her usual, coy and seductive, voice, "Shhhhh...Enjoy yourself milady." ****************** They "played" with her for two more hours, before Dales ripped apart the bonding's with magic, and proceeded to attack them with pillow barrages. Miku and Kongami ran out, laughing and saying goodbye to there "lady". Dales herself walked down the corridors of the palace, intent on heading to the throne room to deal with the pesky nobles of the imperial court, Idiots, all of them. As she walked by various staff; servants, guards, and others, most greeted her with bows or "Good day your majesty". Some, gave her suggestive winks with the average greeting, all females. Suddenly she saw the court mage walking down the corridor, wearing only pants and holding three large scrolls in his arms. "Whoring around lately have we?" he said with voice as sly as the smile on his face. Dale's face turned red, at the court mages words and smile, before saying aggressively, "I am not whoring around!!!" He let go of the scrolls and left them floating in the air as he crossed his arms. "The maids have been telling another story as of late." She waved her hand, and her face become even more flustered, "What have those...bumpkins told you?" "Not too much into detail. But enough for to know that you've been sleeping around with five women in the staff, four of them the maids whom you brought to Skyrim. You ever wondered where they learnt those little illusion tricks?" Skjari chuckled a little. "The gardener didn't count" she protested, and raised her voice, with her facial expression twisting into a snarl, "All I did was...a quicky with her." "And she was slightly disappointed in you for that. Though don't worry I made it up to her for you. But you have to admit that 'whoring around' as you call it, is quite entertaining." Skjari's smile grew wider. "I wasn't whoring around..." Dales said, while trying to block the ever increasing blush forming around her face, due to the mage's increasing grin. She herself started counting all of the people she had...ehem "intimate" encounters with. "And besides...who am I to argue if someone wants to..."get to know me" better?" "You should know that you don't need to excuse such behavior to me." He gave her hands a quick look. "And judging from the red line on your wrists I would guess Koni has been using the rope and blindfold on you." He chuckled. "Did she bring the other maids to play 'Guess who?' with you as well?" Her eyes trailed down her wrists, seeing the rope marks. Her face felt like it was on fire, before she muttered quietly, "Miku was present as well." "Well at least you had fifty-fifty chance of getting it right. She brought ten other women when she played it with me." "Did she use the...ehem "paddle" if you guessed wrong?" "No, she choked me with her... Well she has a very ample bosom." He picked up the scrolls from the air. "Now I should be off. Before any servants hear us talking." "Ah that would be very wise." She said, by then Dales had finished counting the number of females she "did" in the last few weeks, and it was surprisingly large number. She cleared her throat, before walking away from the nord. As she approached the door leading to the royal throne room, she noticed a legionary on duty, a female legionary. She was clad in the usual plate mail of the imperial watch. She was highly attractive, Dales smiled to herself, and approached the guard, who saluted her. Dales began to engage in common talk, before saying, "My, my...you seem so bored Quentius, why don't we get to know each other more over some brandy, somewhere private after i'm done in with the nobles?"

Velan Quintus, Quaestor Thorek, Legion Recruits- Goblin Tim's Cave, North of Skingrad, Day Velan stopped the recruits, along with Thorek, just outside of the cave they had been ordered to clear out. It was a known goblin habitat, and had become a large nuisance. Velan had never liked goblins anyways. They had no sense of honor. Although in some ways, he enjoyed their strength driven society. Not enough to allow them to take the lives of citizens of the Empire. "Alright recruits. This is it. The first time I will see you in the fire. Who knows where we are at?" It was a simple question to test the general sense of direction, and knowledge of the land. A male Nord, Keld, was the first to respond. "Well, we are north of Skingrad. And I believe I know this cave as well. This is a goblin tribes home right?" "Correct. It was formerly the home of the Whiteskin tribe, led by a Goblin Jim." One of the Breton males spoke up. Varnis was his name. "I heard that there's a new leader. Goblin Tim, I think. I've heard he's killed many people." "Very true. Little does he know, that ends today. Now, we need to figure out how we want to approach this. Any ideas?" ~~--~~-~~--~~ "Gaaaah!" Goblin Tim looked sadly from his bloody mace to the now dead Redguard prisoner he'd been enjoying the company of so much these last few weeks. "That wasn't supposed to happen." His second-in-command, a Goblin shaman named Gralam hobbled over on his old staff. "Maybe it is because you aimed too high." He pointed at the large open wound just in the center of his chest. "The chest broke open, and blood spilled out. Don't aim there. Aim for the balls. Don't need balls." Tim looked at his shorter companion with a wild look in his eyes. "You think I don't know that?! I broke the balls the other week stupid!" I swear, all other goblins are dumb as rocks. But so are humans too. And elves, but they are meaner than other goblins. "Sorry Gralam. You are stupid, but you already know that. I don't need to tell you a lot." "It's okay. I know we not as smart as you." Tim and Gralam both turned at the sound of a pair of feet clambering into the small firelit room. "Chief Tim!" It was one of the younger ones, likely still unshedded. "Humans outside! A lot! With weapons!" Tim raised his eyebrow, which was a unique ability of Tim's, as eyebrows were a facial feature that no one else in the cave possessed. "Are there more of them than us?" "No." "Then why be afraid?! Go now! Set the traps and make the other stupid unready ones ready!" "Yes Chief Tim!" Tim turned to his shaman. "We will wait in the back with the archers. The humans won't reach us." "You don't think we should fight in front? It will help the unshedded." "We wait in the back!" Tim practically spat. "The White Skins are strong! We always were. They will be fine." ~~--~~-~~--~~ "We could sneak around, and try to surprise them." That wasn't a horrible idea, but Velan had heard enough of their strategies. "That would work, except for one problem. One of the goblins slipped inside rather frantically. They most likely know we are here. So we will use a rather simple, but extremely effective tactic. We will stick together, watching each others back. Goblins aren't too great with strategy, so we don't need to think incredibly hard. Don't stray from the group, and you'll live. Thorek and I shall lead. Any questions?" "What if they have archers?" Velan wanted to frown, but it wasn't that bad of a question. "Use your shield. Besides, I trust Alexia and Luther to be the better archers." He saw Alexia's face light up at his remarks. Well, she's easy to please. Hopefully that helps her confidence enough. Velan signaled for the recruits to follow him. They then advanced towards the entrance of the cave. Once they were reasonably close, the goblins reacted as expected. By charging, and grunting along the way. Probably how they communicated, if you asked Velan. There were 7 goblins, since one had retreated inside. 4 of them came charging with battered up weapons and armor. The other 3 stayed back a bit, and began firing arrows. The first of them was met by Velan. The goblin tried to hit Velan with a mace, but Velan responded with his mace. He smacked the goblins weapon away, and then punched the mace through the front of the goblins skull. The second goblin was easily dispatched by Thorek, who cleaved the goblin up with his sword. Velan intentionally let the next goblin through, to see how the recruits would react. Keld was the first to confront the goblin. He blocked a sword blow, before countering with one of his own. Surprisingly, the goblin blocked Keld's blow. Before either of them could make another move though, Varnis pushed his blade into the goblins back. He turned to see a couple of the other recruits finishing off the last of the close combat goblins. He then watched as Alexia dropped the second of the goblin archers. She fired at the third one again and again, but was unable to hit it. Damn it. She hit the first one in one shot. What's different? Oh no. She can't finish. Luckily, Luther could. He hit the last archer in the throat, killing him nearly instantly. "Alright. We're going in. Remember to stay together. Watch for traps, and listen to what I say. Oh, and Alexia. What happened? You couldn't hit the last goblin. Why? He wasn't even moving that much." "I don't know. I was doing good, but all of the sudden I couldn't keep my bow straight." "Damn it girl. You've got to control your nerves. I believe in you. There's no reason for you to be nervous. You're lucky Luther saved you there. That goblin was lining up a pretty good looking shot." "Alright sir. Won't happen again." "Good. Now lets get in there, and get to work." ~~--~~-~~--~~ As soon as the battle had started, Goblin Tim knew. How couldn't he with the little unshedded runt constantly rushing back to report losses at the hands of the humans. "They killed all the first room kin. And Grobloo. Grobloo's dead." Tim smiled. His teeth were quite a good deal smaller than most goblins'. His whole mouth was really. It helped hide the fact that his teeth were quite rotted. "Well they haven't reached the Berserkers yet. The Berserkers kill well. Better than the others." ~~--~~-~~--~~ As they stepped inside the cave, Velan took note of the surroundings. There were two corridors. One continued straight from where they entered, while the other was on the left. Velan was about to begin thinking about which path to take, when he heard the grunting of more goblins coming from the left path. "Alright, we are going to the left. Watch for traps. Goblins are pretty good at assembling basic traps. Nothing you can't handle though. Now let's move." Sure enough, as they made it to a right turn in the corridor, they were ambushed by six mace wielding goblins. They seemed much more skilled however. Not enough for Velan to consider them a deadly threat for himself, though. They would match the recruits though. I better take a couple out. Thorek too. Velan charged into two of the goblins, using his shield to ram them into the wall. He then brought his mace down upon one of the goblins skulls, which caused it to cave in. The other goblin had surprisingly gotten back to its feet, and began to swing its weapon wildly. Velan skillfully blocked the goblin's attacks with his shield. He quickly found an opening, and smashed the goblins foot with his mace. He then quickly finished his foe with a smack to the side of the head. Velan turned to see how the others were faring. Thorek was busy with two goblins himself. He blocked one of the goblins with his shield, and used his leg to sweep the other one to the ground. He then quickly maneuvered himself in position to stab the downed goblin. He then was able to focus his undivided attention on the remaining goblin. He dodged the goblins wild charge, and then plunged his sword in the back of this seemingly berserk goblin. Velan then turned to check on the recruits. Keld, Varnis, and two of the other recruits were overwhelming one of the berserkers. Keld and another recruit distracted it, while the other two attacked from behind. He then turned and saw a bad situation. The recruits had lost sight of the last goblin. "Edgar, duck!" Luckily Edgar was quick to follow orders, and ducked immediately. He ducked just in time to avoid the sneaky goblins attack. After that, it wasn't long before the recruits overwhelmed and killed the enemy. "You have to stay on your toes! We can't afford to lose sight of an enemy again. Understood?" "Understood sir." He was about to give one last comment, when he heard footsteps behind him. He spun and raised his shield. "Archers!" There were 4 goblin archers. Obviously they weren't smart enough to attack with the others. "Alexia, Luther. You know what to do." The two recruits took their positions, and began to trade fire with the goblins. Alexia hit one with her first shot, just like before. Luther was able to lodge his second arrow into one of the archers necks, sending a spray of blood. Alexia narrowly avoided an arrow, as she rolled out of the way. Luther responded by taking out the archer. Don't fold this time. Alexia popped up out of her roll, and lined up a shot. She released, and watched as her arrow landed in the last archers chest. "Alright. Keep moving." Velan led the soldiers towards the next section of the cave. As he did, he heard goblins clamoring up ahead. ~~--~~-~~--~~ "Chief! Chief!" It was the same little goblin that had come to him the other times. "What is it?" "They killed many Berserkers. No humans died." Stupid weaker goblins! Make Tim do it all the hard work alone.. Tim jumped down from his favorite chair and headed for the higher tunnels. "Where are you going?" asked Gralam. "Going to see the humans. Not fight them. Just see them." I am smarter and faster. I know the caves best. It will be easy to get away if found. ~~--~~-~~--~~ Velan was feeling alright about the raid so far. They had not lost anyone. As a matter of fact, no one had even gotten injured. But he knew that could change very easily. So he wasn't going to let down his guard. As they entered a new opening in the cave, Velan was faced with another choice. There were three ways to go, although one of them appeared to backtrack. Before Velan decided which path to choose, they were rushed by two goblins. They came up on the side of them, and were met by Thorek and Varnis. Thorek was quickly able to take advantage of his enemies mistakes, countering one of the goblins strike with a lethal slash to the throat. Varnis was... struggling. He was parrying blows as fast as he could, with no room to counter strike. The goblin even managed to land a glancing blow on Varnis' thigh. Velan was about to assist, when Keld smashed his sword into the goblins temple. "Good pick up Keld. Alright, follow me." He led the recruits through a narrow corridor. As the reached the end of it, he heard what appeared to be a human laughing. Then he heard a string snap from behind them. "EVERYONE HIT THE FLOOR!" They all dropped to the floor, as two maces swung down from overhead. Velan glanced up and saw a pale figure turn a corner, a good distance from them. "Alright. Let's move forward." "What if there's more traps?" "We will deal with them when we encounter them. Now let's go." They continued on, pushing the maces aside. They reached the end of the narrow tunnel, which led into an open room, where 5 goblins were waiting. One of them was an archer, and began firing upon them immediately. The four others charged, wildly swinging their weapons. Alexia was the first recruit to respond, shooting the archer in the hip. Luther followed that up by hitting the kneeling goblin in the lung. As the berserkers reached the group, Velan once again picked two of them out. He violently thrust his shield into one goblin, while skillfully disarming the other. He was about to kill the standing goblin, when he felt something grab him. The goblin he had knocked down was trying to bite through his armor, and had almost succeeded. Velan stomped on the rabid goblins skull four times before it stopped moving. He then refocused himself on the other goblin, who was busy picking up his weapon. The goblin picked up his sword, and started spinning wildly with it. Velan jumped back, and threw his mace at the goblins skull. He then finished off the wounded berserker, and picked up his mace. He turned to see that Thorek had taken one of the goblins out with a vicious stab. The recruits had ganged up on the last goblin, and successfully dispatched it. "Alright. Everyone good?" "Yes." After confirming that everyone was alright, they pressed on. The walked through another narrow hallway, although this time there wasn't any traps. They entered a large room, with a few goblins in it. He also caught a glimpse of the figure from before, as it retreated deeper into the cave. As they started to move forward again, the company could hear the echos of what appeared be a goblin conversation coming from deeper in the cave. "Bileck marook! Tim palil!" "Mowalik brukall." This voice was less scratchy than the first. It actually sounded like it could have belonged to a human. There was a pause for several moments before the voice continued, this time shouting so that the soldiers could not mistake its words. "Humans turn back! We kill if don't!" Definitely a person. Must be their makeshift leader. "You hear that? We've gotten their attention. Now let's stay alert, and finish this." "Yes sir." They probably walked about 12 steps, before they heard a huge rumbling. Thorek reacted quickly. "Logs! Recruits back!" The recruits were far back enough to retreat from the logs. Except for Aeri, who was frozen by the noise. Velan didn't hesitate. He ran over and thrust the Nord over his shoulder, and jumped over a log, and clear of the trap. He set the girl back down on her feet. "Don't hesitate when ordered." "Yes sir." "You either." Velan turned to see that one of the Imperial males was also frozen by the trap. Thorek must have thrust him out of the way while Velan was busy. Lucky day for that recruit. "Exactly. Oh... Heads up." Velan pointed over to a group of 5 goblins charging the group. For the third time, Velan chose two goblins for himself. However as he went to stop the second goblin, it broke left towards the recruits. "Pick him up," he yelled as he blocked the first goblins attack. The Imperial who was frozen before was the first to react. He whipped his shield into the goblins shoulder blade. The force of the blow knocked the goblin into the blades of both Keld and Aeri. Velan then refocused on his enemy, who he had been blocking pretty easily. He waited for the goblin to strike again, and then sidestepped him and smashed the berserkers throat in with a thunderous blow from his mace. He then turned and saw the two archers getting overwhelmed by a goblin. Velan sprinted through the group, and blindsided his target. Then before the goblin could react, he snapped his neck. He then turned to see Thorek and Varnis finishing off the last two goblins. "Everyone good?" "I got hit in the thigh pretty hard," Alexia said, limping a little. "You'll be alright. Just push through. Although Thorek is going to drop back and make sure you're alright." Thorek immediately dropped back, and then the group pressed on. Before long, Velan spotted another trap. "Hold up. See the holes? Darts." Velan threw a large rock forward, which ended up triggering the trap. They watched as darts flew across the room, harmlessly hitting the wall. After it stopped, Velan signaled for the recruits to follow. They were nearing the end of the cave. The group continued deeper into the cave, through a narrow hallway. He could see that it opened up into a large room at the end. As he studied the end of the hall, five goblins came out from nowhere. They grunted as they charged the group from either side. Velan ran towards the two charging the front, while Thorek and the others would handle the others. Velan caught the first goblin with a mace blow to the hip, thrusting it into the wall. The next goblin was ran over by Velan's shield. He then turned around and brought his mace down upon the goblins head with shattering force. Then he ran and smacked the other goblin to the ground, before finishing it off with another vicious blow from his mace. Thorek was helping the recruits make short work of the remaining goblins, slashing two of their throats in a single well thought out swing. The recruits had no trouble dispatching the last one. Finally, they reached what appeared to be the end of the road. A large room, with a ridge on the right. There were three archers perched on that ridge. Looking back towards the center of the room, Velan saw the pale figure from before. Getting a closer look, he saw it was indeed a human. Beyond him there was another goblin, along with a cooking pot, and some treasure. Velan signaled for the rest of the group to stay further back from him as they entered the room. Goblin Tim barked orders for his archers to hold their fire, then switched to the more common language that humans preferred to use as he addressed the approaching soldier. "You not listen. Why you not listen?" Tim put one hand behind his back and gave Gralam a little wave, signaling him to move further along the right of the room. He was surprised to see the leader seemingly call off his archers. Velan responded by telling his men to do the same. "You have killed my people..." He was trying to speak simply, so the man would understand him. "Why would you do that?" Goblin Tim wasn't sure he understood the question. Why would I kill your people? Because you're humans stupid! You have good stuff. But Tim knew that he had to use his vastly superior intellect in this situation, for his people were now outnumbered. It would not be smart of him to insult this human, or to say that they killed his kind for their belongings. "We kill because you kill." We kill? "You mean me? Or my people? Does not matter really. We came to cave, and you attacked. We... attacked back. Killing innocent people is wrong. People who kill are locked away. If not killed." He hoped the man would understand, although the concept was pretty advanced. Even Velan didn't always understand the law. Tim scratched his head for a moment, then a look of understanding appeared on his face. "We lock too!" Tim pointed his bloody mace at the wired cage in the corner of the room behind Velan. The Redguard he'd killed earlier hadn't been moved. Neither had the many skeletons of his predecessors for that matter. I'm probably expecting a bit much, but hopefully we are on the same page. "He kill?" Then upon closer inspection, he saw signs of torture. He didn't bring it up, fearing he would anger the man. At this point, Velan was hoping he could end this with an arrest, rather than a slaughter. But he knew it could end up requiring the latter at any moment. Goblin Tim had to think for a minute. The darker human had been in his cage for a while now. What did he do? He had a bow... Tim snapped his fingers. The man had been a hunter! They'd found him as he was skinning a deer he'd just shot... and killed. Goblin Tim nodded his head vigorously. "Yes yes! He kill!" Velan was suspicious as to whether the man was being truthful. "What did he kill?" After saying that, Velan realized he should have said who. This gutted talking was making him a little frustrated. He didn't show it though. Tim scratched his head again. What is their word for deer? "He kill... Furry one. Outside. Taste good over fire." Tim used his hands to imitate antlers on his head. Velan wanted to smile, but knew he shouldn't. "A deer?" "Deer! He kill deer!" Tim pointed to the cage again. "We take stuff and lock. Kill today." Velan didn't know what to say. There was no way for him to explain that deer weren't illegal to kill. He had to find some sort of agreement. "Okay. Listen to me. You have killed our people. You need to come with me, to city. To be judged for killing. Goblins too. You do that?" The situation was now surreal. He was attempting to get a goblin like man, and actual goblins to turn themselves in peacefully. No one will ever believe this. "What city? What judged?" Goblin Tim's face scrunched up. Did this man want them to leave with him? Why? They didn't even know him. He'd just come in here and killed lots of them. Still, Tim knew that even though he was skilled, he had no chance of taking on all of these evil humans. "City is where many people live. Judge means we figure out if you did wrong by killing. If you did, we have to lock you up. If not, we let you return." Tim was pretty sure that he understood now. So the humans wanted to take him to a city and see if he'd done something wrong? Tim knew that he hadn't done anything wrong. Not lately. Well, this morning he'd accidentally punished Gorbloo for taking Looda's helmet, when it was actually Feelk. But the humans couldn't know about that, could they? Some how, this man must've been watching them. Maybe if I be strong, he will leave us. "No. Goblins stay." Darn. "No. Either goblins go. Or goblins fight us. Choice is yours." Velan signaled for his recruits to be prepared, but not to draw weapons unless they do. Tim understood that just fine. Why was this human so cruel? First he killed almost all the White Skins, and now he was going to try to kill them. Tim spoke in his own tongue to Gralam, who had moved along the wall on Tim's right, putting Goblins at every side of the room. "Wait for my signal. I'll kill the leader. You use the big lightning spell on the rest when they move. Archers shoot at them when he does." He looked back at Velan before casting a defeated look to the dirty cave floor. "Told them we come." He said sadly. Tim motioned toward Velan with his mace. "I come now? You not kill?" Velan didn't move. "You come without fight, I don't kill. You try fighting, I kill you. So, let's go. Please don't fight. I don't want to have to kill you." He signaled for Thorek to split the group, so he could lead the goblins out. Tim nodded and moved up to Velan. Just as he got within range, his eyes suddenly widened and he let out a battle shriek. "Grupaaa!" Tim jabbed his spiked mace forward at the man's torso. As he did, the archers fired their volley, and Gralam shot a bolt of lightning, all aimed for the recruits. Shouldn't have shrieked. Velan thrust his leg, attempting to sweep the man off his feet. At the same time, he had blocked the blow, and was countering with a blow of his own aimed at Goblin Tim's throat. Thorek was on the side on which the lightning was aimed for. He ordered the recruits to bolt to the left, as he blocked the spell as much as possible. He was hurt, as were many of the recruits. But he was far from incapacitated. The arrows were mainly blocked by the other group, although Velan heard Varnis roar with pain. He had been grazed on the arm. He'd survive, but it was going to be painful. After they were finished blocking, the recruits returned fire on the archers, while Thorek threw his personal war axe at Gralam. Tim felt the edge of the mace nick him as he tried to dodge out of the way. The dodge would have been more successful had the human's leg not smacked into his own. He fell to the ground, a slight trickle of blood on his neck. Tim was fast though, and he immediately rolled out of Velan's reach and stood back up, this time waiting for the human to make the first move. A shriek rang out across the room, coming from Gralam's direction. Tim briefly glanced over to see his shaman slumped against the wall with an axe lodged into his skull. He turned his attention back to Velan. Things weren't looking good. Velan was surprised by the man's speed. He then realized what this reminded him of. Gergio. Except he couldn't take you, my friend. Velan decided to take up Goblin Tim's offer of a free move. He rushed his foe, appearing to be preparing to swing his mace at the man. But at the last second he rose his shield up, hoping to ram him into the ground. Thorek was surprised he was able to hit the goblin. He then turned his attention to assisting the recruits in dispatching the three archers. He led them in shooting a continuous volley. Even if only two of the recruits were any good with a bow, he was sure they would at least hit one of them. Tim had been preparing to dodge Velan's strike and counter with his own. He wasn't prepared when the man brought up his shield. Tim quickly swung out his mace in an attempt to stop it, but all it did was jar his arm and send the mace flying out of his hand before smashing into him. Thankfully, the mace had at least slowed the blow enough for Tim to remain on his feet, but he did stagger back. Shaking his head, he began backing up, looking around for an escape from the human. His forces were now depleted, and even as he looked around, he could see his archers being overwhelmed. One was hanging over the side of the ridge, and another had an arrow in his shoulder. Thorek had traveled over and retrieved his war axe. He climbed up onto the ridge from behind, and cleaved his way through one of the wounded archers. He then easily dispatched the last of the archers, plunging his axe into through the goblins neck.. It was now all eyes on Velan and Tim. Velan was surprised that the man was able to stay on his feet. That probably wouldn't be enough to save him though. Velan moved forward, intending to finish the fight. Seeing no escape, and now backed to the wall, Tim dropped to his knees. "Liroop ded swakka! Grulshap! Don't kill! Don't kill! I go! I go to city! Tim be good!" The pathetic creature of a man looked up at the strong human pleadingly. His bright blue eyes were now wide with fear. Tim knew that his life was now in Velan's hands. Velan wasn't suspicious this time. There was no mistaking the fear in the mans eyes. He had to make a choice. Do I spare him? I mean, why should I? I gave him the choice once, and he stabbed me in the back. He doesn't deserve to... No. He does. It is my duty to bring him to be judged. He has surrendered. Killing him now would be wrong. I'll take him back to the fort, and take it up with the fort commander. I'm just sad he didn't give up when some of his friends were still alive. It must have been hard, learning their customs. He should be pitied. Maybe with the right discipline, he could be made into a... non dangerous civilian. It is my duty to give him that chance. Velan put his mace away and lowered his shield. "And so you will. First, we go to fort. My men need to get better. Get up, and turn around. I promise I won't kill." Relief flooded Tim's face as he stood up and complied. "Fugil! Fugil! I be good, yes! Very good!" "Alright. Just hold still. I know you don't have weapon now, but I have to be careful," Velan said, as he tied the man up. "I never got your name. What is it?" Velan looked back to see his recruits stunned at what was taking place. "Me Goblin Tim." croaked the pale Imperial. "I'm Velan. Now, let's get on our way. I'm very tired." Velan led the goblin man out of the room, to begin the trek back to Fort Ash. He had another good story to add to his collection. And this one might just be the craziest of all.

Baldur and Rebec near Gjukar's Monument, southern tundra nighttime "AGGHH!" "That was a thorn bush. Pick another spot." "Damn it, I knew we should've brought the bedroll." The group of Stormcloaks had set out later than intended from Markarth, by the time everyone was ready and Ysana had let Baldur and Rebec go, and then they had taken a detour to investigate a trader's report that he'd seen Thalmor near Gjukar's Monument. The "Thalmor" turned out to be two Bosmer hunters. By that time, it was too late to push on to Rorikstead, so the group set up camp. Baldur, Rebec and Mazoga went hunting for dinner, and after dinner, the admiral and her bard snuck off from camp to do their usual thing. Since they hadn't in fact brought a bedroll, they walked a little further out and found a nice grassy spot. The clouds in the night sky above cleared just as they were beginning to roll around on it. On one pass, Rebec caught something in the corner of her eye and tensed. "Baldur," she whispered, pointing at something behind him. "I think... Holy mother Kyne." In the direction she was pointing stood a figure. A very tall figure, though not as tall as most of his kind. He held a club at his side, and was scratching his arse as he stood watching them. "Oh no don't even try it. You already got me started." said Baldur as he grinned and started undoing his kilt, completely oblivious to his surroundings at the moment, likely from lack of blood to the brain. "Put your sword away and get out your axe. We've got company." Rebec reached for her own weapon and stood up, shrugging her tunic back in place. Baldur's smile fell in great disappointment, as did his sword before drawing his axe. Thoroughly annoyed Baldur stood up, axes at the ready to hurt something for his killed mood. "Alright, who's...who...Ness?" Baldur stood in disbelief as he saw the same exact giant from before staring the two both down in the distance. Baldur sheathed his axes not long after. "Screw the axes, we're not fighting that thing! Why's he just staring at us? ENJOYING THE SHOW ARE YOU?" said Baldur calling out to Ness. "Shh! You'll scare him. Though I guess if he wasn't scared by the sight of that..." Rebec sheathed her axe as well and inched forward, staring at the giant. "Are you in trouble, Ness? Somebody bothering you guys again?" The giant grunted and tamped his club on the ground once. "Okay, okay. We did save your life, but it's more likely you'd be getting us out of trouble." She looked at Baldur. "What do you think? How are we supposed to talk to a giant?" Baldur scratched his head as he looked at Rebec thoroughly perplexed. "Um, why are we trying to talk to him again? Heh, I suppose...maybe the thing recognizes us. If so, maybe it is smart enough for communication. Damn it, this is so stupid, but it's peaked my curiosity." Baldur started walking, slowly at first, in the direction of the giant, cursing as he did. "Well? You coming?" Some people did trade with the giants, but Rebec hadn't ever pictured herself as one of them. After some hesitation, she followed. When they got closer, she addressed the giant. "Trade? You came to trade with us?" Ness grunted again and made a shuffling noise. She almost thought he was about to lift his club and send them to Masser, but instead he reached for something on his belt and tossed it at her. It sloshed as it landed at her feet. Rebec stooped and picked up what proved to be a woolly skin full of some liquid. She looked at Baldur. "He's giving us this. I wonder if they think the cow was for trade and he came to pay us back." Baldur stared at Ness in disbelief. He couldn't believe Rebec's crazy talk ended up having some merit after all. Ness seemed to be waiting for something as he stared at the two, watching. "I think he wants us to drink it...What the hell is it anyway?" asked Baldur who kept one hand on his axe just in case. "The skin looks like it used to be a mammoth. Great." The neck was a rusty old spigot. Even better. But with Ness watching, they had to appear grateful. Rebec undid the spigot and let a drop of the liquid fall into her finger. She sniffed it, but only got a faint, grassy sweet smell. "Here goes nothing." She held the spigot to her mouth and took a drink. It burned going down and there was an instant headrush like strong liquor. "Whoa! It's got a kick, but it's... not half bad. Some kind of spirit or tonic." Rebec handed the skin over to Baldur for him to try. Baldur took the strange gift in his hands and did as Ness seemed to want them to. Then he took a whiff of the stuff and instantly pulled back as the sweet fumes overwhelmed his sense of smell and sent a slight burning sensation up his nostrils. Guess I should have just sniffed a drop like Rebec. This stuff is potent. "Here goes nothing..." Baldur took a big swig of the liquid, probably bigger than he should have on the first try and started smacking his lips in approval once he got over the sense of skeever piss going down his throat. "Hehehe. These giants got some potent liquor eh? I suppose they have to since they're so damn big. Well, what now?" Before Baldur could finish his sentence, Ness took a seat in front of the couple sending a small tremor through the ground as he plopped his massive body to the ground and he then took out another bigger mammoth skin container from off of a strap on his waist and began drinking some himself. Perhaps it was the effect of the strange liquid or Baldur never recovered the blood he lost from his big head to his little one, but for whatever reason, the Nordic General who wouldn't even think to get this close to one of the "fathers" started walking right up to him now with his hand outstretched. "Who's a good giant? You are! Yes you are! Come here, cootchie cootchie! Hehehe..." "Baldurrr..." Rebec was going to warn him and say something motherly and cautionary, but found that her tongue had turned into a furry caterpillar. That idea tickled her so much that she started to giggle. "Thish is like m...m... moon sugerr. But ish not skooma. Give it 'ere." Ignoring her own warning, Rebec went over to Baldur and took the skin from him, taking another drink. With Ness sitting down, they were practically eye to eye now. Rebec wavered on her feet and said, "He ish pretty cute." As blurry as the giant was, he could have been a draugr and she'd have said the same. Baldur was giggling like one of the Dibellans now and blushing quite strongly for no apparent reason. Baldur walked right up to Ness and hugged, or rather tripped and fell onto his neck from the side. Still giggling as he spoke into his ear, Baldur said, "Hey, hey, Nessy...I ever hehehahha! I ever told you...I always wanted to hug a giant. I was too afraid before but...You only live once! Hey, hey you, come here...how hehehe! Okay, shhh, quiet. How many Dark elves, does it take, to stoke a fire?" Ness whose eyes were closed gave a low grunt as if in reply. "None, because it's already done! Get it? Because they're Dun-mer! Hahhahahahaha!" Baldur started laughing hysterically while tugging on Ness's beard which caused him to push Baldur off of him. Baldur hit the ground pretty hard, but the general wasn't discouraged, still laughing and giggling as he got back up to hug Ness once more, who seemed to be very calm from the liquid's effects. "Thash a dumb joke," Rebec said, but laughed hysterically at it anyway. "Alright, we better... better..." She was trying to say they should go back to camp, but the thought dangled out on a limb and she couldn't quite reach it. This isn't good, her better, soberer sense told her, as she was on the way to fainting flat on her back. By the time she was actually on her back, though, she forgot why she'd been upset, because it felt so blissful. Baldur was now trying to pick Ness's nose, but his vision was blurry and he ended up scraping the side of it with his gauntlet's bear claw. Ness's reaction caused him to slap Baldur away a few feet, where Baldur stayed. Not from the pain. The liquid's effects made him too numb to feel pain. It also made him feel like he could run across Tamriel, but he just felt too at peace to do so. Instead he simply stared at the sky watching the stars dance across the void as Rebec laid in her spot on the ground as well. In her own dream world, Rebec was in the ocean. The sky was fiery pink and orange and the water was bright purple and green. It was warm like the Abecean, but there were whales swimming by, their air holes snuffling- Ness' breath, in reality, though the admiral was too far gone to know this. Recognizing that she could go anywhere and do anything in this ocean, she did what she always wanted to do and envied the Argonians for: Dived deep and kept going to reach the bottom. Unlike normal swimming, there was no drag on her and it required no special force to reach the bottom. There she found a wondrous forest, filled with strange trees and swimming creatures. There was no end to it, and no matter how far she swam, she never got tired. Rebec had a nagging worry that Baldur wasn't with her, and that she should be getting back to her ship, but it was all too blissful to let that bother her. In Baldur's dream, the general was standing on a field of strange yellow colored ground. There was no trees, no grass, no nothing. Just the yellow ground before him and the moon above him. That was the second strange thing. There was only one moon, but it was blue with white streaks and brown masses covering it as well. Baldur looked to his left and noticed that he could see Masser after all, but it was a lot bigger than normal. Closer. Eventually Baldur figured out that he was actually on Secunda. But why it was yellow made no sense to him at all. Suddenly Baldur could feel the earth shake behind him. As he turned around, he saw that it was none other than Ness, except Ness had a Rebec head and a feminine giant body. Reb-Ness got to one knee and sent her fist flying into the ground, but instead of a loud crash, her fist made a soft squish. When she pulled her hand out, she stuck out her hand for Baldur to take the yellow ground from it. It was cheese. Reb-Ness grunted and mumbled something in giantish as she waited for him to take the food. Baldur gladly took the cheese and stuffed his mouth with it. Once Reb-Ness had seen he was satisfied, Reb-Ness sent a thunderous shockwave from her mouth that was so powerful, Baldur could have sworn that it made the moon move. A few seconds later, Baldur heard a familiar cry from above that he knew all too well....a dragon. The mighty red dragon lay before her, bowing its head to her as she mounted the creature. As she did, she looked to Baldur and signaled him to come over. "Umph verkumph!" Baldur reluctantly complied to her command. Baldur then climbed up on her back, mounting the giant mounting the dragon, and watched in amazement as they took off into the void and went straight to Masser. Now, normally Baldur would be overcome with the sight of flying through the empty void, but Baldur's eyes were fixated on one thing and one thing only. Or, technically two. Giant boobs. Baldur sat on Reb-Ness's neck drooling on her giant cleavage as he looked down at them while nibbling on moon cheese that he had stuck on his claws again. This...is...heaven! Screw Sovngarde, this is heaven! Once they finally reached Masser, Baldur "accidently" fell forward, sliding down Reb-Ness's cleavage and onto the dragon's back. The dragon knocked Baldur off as he slid down on his wing, which sent him falling face first into the ground, which was no longer cheese. Ahh, worth it. Before Baldur could get up, Reb-Ness grabbed him and slumped him over her shoulder and petted the red dragon before it took off. "Where are we going? Where are you taking me?" Reb-Ness grunted again and pointed with her club ahead of them at a giant tent, complete with a giant bed inside. Baldur started kicking his legs in excitement and let out a loud "Yipee!" as they made their approach. Once inside, Reb-Ness threw off her fur coverings and revealed what the general had been dying to get at the entire time. Giant....boobs. In the real world, Baldur was groaning and making strange animal noises of various kinds for just about the remainder of the vision. A man's mind does strange things when their happy time is interrupted. No matter what, they'll find a way. Rebec's dream had taken a less ecstatic turn. As she got deeper into the ocean forest, the colors turned darker and began to swirl together. It became more difficult to swim, and suddenly her magical ability to breathe underwater began to leave her, while a sense of oppressive weight prevented her from trying to rise to the surface. She started choking, clawing at her throat for breath. In the real world, she had started to vomit and actually was clawing for breath as her own sick went into her windpipe. The trees of the underwater forest turned into giant maws with snapping teeth, so that everywhere she turned in trying to struggle against suffocation, she was also cut by sharp things. Rebec felt the life being torn out of her body. Then, suddenly, a force grabbed her and drew her quickly up to the surface of the water. She hit the surface of the water with a hard smack and was dazed for a minute, but found she could get air again, and proceeded to hack and gasp as she spit up water and replaced it with air. Meanwhile, Ness the giant had recognized the woman's peril and had picked her up bodily, turned her over, and smacked her on the back to clear her lungs. Choking and gasping, Rebec soon began to breathe normally again, and slumped on her side in a fitful daze, her head aching dully. She hadn't had as much of the liquid as Baldur had, and in her delirium recognized this as being just about how her other experiences with moon sugar and skooma had gone. Who knew the mountain fathers were into skooma.... I don't remember that from any of the stories... When Baldur finally came to, he opened his eyes to see the stars yet again and wondered if he was still on the moons after all. Baldur was sporting a shameless grin on his face from the contents of his dream, but as he leaned up to stretch and look at the giant breasts again, Ness's face sent him crashing back to reality. "Aww man." said Baldur who was crestfallen. "That was...the greatest dream ever..." Baldur stood up, averting his eyes from Ness for feeling a bit weird about his presence causing a part of his fantasy, and looked to Rebec who was laying next to a puddle of vomit in the grass. Baldur ran over to her side and knelt down to see what was wrong. "You okay, Rebec? Didn't handle that stuff well, I take it." Rebec groaned and sat up, holding her head. The headache was not just from intoxication, but from the large goose-egg she had on her forehead from being slammed into the ground by a giant, even one who was trying to help her. That nice giant was standing off a few paces, looking out at something on the tundra. As Rebec's sight cleared a little, she thought she saw movement out there in the distance, maybe a predator who had gotten too close. With the giant standing guard, though, that was the last of their worries. "It didn't seem like skooma at first, but it sure acted like it," she said to Baldur. "Only I don't feel any desire to have more. In fact I'm not touching that stuff again. That might be Ness' idea of sharing his mead, but his mead's got a nasty right hook." "Wait, when did you do skooma? Moon sugar is one thing, although still addictive, but you'd have to be crazy to try skooma." said Baldur in an almost fatherly tone, which considering the recent circumstances was ironic. She was about to answer when she noticed the pile of sick lying next to her. "Agh, gods!" Rebec shifted closer to Baldur and hung her head between her knees. After a minute she said, "It was after I wrecked my ship. I couldn't face my family. Hitched a ride to... somewhere, I don't recall. Vilnur found me in a skooma den a few weeks later." All this is said in muffled tone, since her head is still buried. The ground shook as Ness approached again. He was holding their skin of liquor, still mostly full. When Rebec glanced up, he held it out towards her. "No!" Lowering her voice, she said, "No, thank you, Ness. It's a little stronger than our usual." The giant wavered, snuffling in his loud breath, then moved to offer the skin to Baldur. Baldur hearing Rebec compare the stuff to skooma and picturing her so low in the dumps to be caught in a skooma den really didn't want to take it, even though his experience was quite fantastic. But he didn't want to make the giant feel bad, so Baldur reluctantly stood up and took the skin from him. "Don't know if you can understand me, but thanks. That's some good stuff you got there, at least for me it was. Won't be taking anymore though in case it's addictive." Afterwards, Baldur sat back down next to Rebec and rubbed her back while she recovered. She felt like puking again, but the sensation passed and Rebec looked up once more. Ness was staring at them. It was creepy, but at the same time rather fantastic. She laughed, saying, "I think he's in love. With you." Pointing at Baldur's smeared war paint, she said, "It's the swirl on your cheek. He thinks you're a present. And probably because you were hanging on him before. Yes, I saw that. I wasn't that far out of my head." "I was...what? Oh...oh! OH, I could have been squished!" Baldur felt a chill go up his spine when he recalled his actions while he was high. "I almost was! I remember hitting the ground pretty hard, but I didn't feel a thing...that stuff is super strong." Baldur thought on Rebec's comment of him being a gift and was even more creeped out than he was before with him staring at the two. "Perhaps the stuff made him less aggressive. Seems to have given him a lasting impression. I guess we made a friend." Ness looked up suddenly, and shortly after that Rebec heard a voice calling. "That's Maz. She's out looking for us. Gods damn it. Alright, let's go find her before she finds us. Nothing about the giant. I'd rather the men think we're sex-crazed than that we play with giants." Standing to her feet, she addressed the giant, bowing her head. "Thank you, Ness. We liked the drink. Sort of." This last was mumbled. "Say hello to your big friends for us." Baldur made sure to keep his swirl out of sight as he waved to NeskonungR before dragging Rebec along by her hand. As nice as it was to have a giant friend, he still didn't quite trust the idea completely and was happy to have his gaze from off of them. The experience was an eye opening one and Baldur couldn't help but wonder just how far the relationship between ancient nords and the giants went. Or how the simple minded folk could serve as kings. Baldur still couldn't believe how crazy his life turned out to be sometimes. When he and Rebec went out for a late night romp, cuddling up on a giant was the very very very last thing he ever expected to happen. Baldur and Rebec finally made it back to the others. The two came bursting out of the woods and appeared suddenly behind Mazoga, likely catching her off guard. "Hey, we're back. You can stop your yelling now, Mazoga." "There you two are! We've been looking all over for you." Mazoga turned and whistled loud. When she heard some other voices she called out "I found 'em!" Rebec approached her sheepishly. "We're fine, Maz. Just got a little carried away." She sounded like a teenager caught sneaking in late. The orc chuckled. "Alright, as long as you're not sabrecat food or kidnapped by Thalmor. I got spooked, thought maybe that trader had actually seen some that we missed earlier." She punched Baldur in the arm. "Sounds like you got your septim's worth, boss." Mazoga then turned and jogged off back towards the camp. Rebec called after her, "I'd charge a lot more than a septim, ya green hag!" Turning to Baldur, she asked, "Did you have a weird dream like I did?" "Uhh...well..." Baldur couldn't hide back his grin and started rubbing the back of his head from embarrassment. "Let's just say I in fact did get my septim's worth. About a giant's weight in gold..." "What?" Rebec started laughing, remembering the giant ladies he'd painted on the cow. "I was swimming in a pretty ocean and you were shagging a giantess. Oh gods, Baldur, you're a sick, sick man. I love that about you." She put an arm around his waist. "Come on, let me wash this awful taste of my mouth and maybe we can try again. Closer to the camp this time. And we're selling that devil's drink to the Khajiit, so don't let me catch you sneaking a drink." Baldur put the drink behind his back protectively. "Aw, but I handle it so much better than you do! Why should I be punished? Besides, Giant Rebec's gonna get lonely up on Secunda without me!" "If you want to get your hands on Little Rebec again, you'll stay right down here in Tamriel." She stopped suddenly, turning. "Seriously, what is going on here? Do you realize what just happened? A giant, our giant, found us on the tundra and brought us a drink. That's not something anyone would believe even if we did tell them." Baldur gave a brief sigh, as he didn't want to think about it. The thought of a giant following them was beyond creepy, but at least Ness turned out to be friendly enough. The thought of a friendly giant made Baldur's head spin all over again. "Rebec, that's more crazy then my mind can register right now at the moment. I'd say that perhaps it was simply a coincidental event and we just happened to walk by. I mean, we're not that far from Whiterun and it certainly makes more sense than him somehow tracking us down. This is a logical location for the giants to move from where they were before. We see him again however...." "Maybe you're right. Yes. It has to be just coincidence, funny as it is." She continued on into camp, still pondering it. "Hey, Rebec. I've been meaning to ask. Why are you and Toki's family at odds?" asked Baldur, looking to change the subject for some sense of normalcy. "I'd just like to know what I'm in for when we get to Morthal." "Oh, that. Well, I don't think it will come to weapons, but don't expect a warm welcome. I got along well enough with Toki's pa. He was quiet, like Toki was. His ma, on the other hand... They'd planned for him to become a blacksmith. He was supposed to settle down in Morthal and open a smithy, start popping out grandchildren. They spent a lot of coin buying him his first tools and sending him to Solitude to apprentice. When he didn't do that, it was a big disappointment. Then he married me, and they hoped I'd make him settle down. You know how that turned out." Rebec chuckled. "I guess it was easier for Rivka to blame me than to be hurt about her son not sticking around." "Hmm, it may be a bit awkward then. Me being there and all. I'll try and stay out of it, but if things get out of hand...." Baldur's face was stern and said pretty much everything he needed to say. "I won't hit anyone, don't worry. They'll be in mourning but don't expect me to stay silent." "I don't expect it to be a long visit. They just need to know what happened, and I'll offer to bury him in Morthal if they want that. It's the least I can do. I'd almost say you were better off staying at the inn while I go talk to them, but they probably already heard the stories about us. I expect that'll confirm Rivka's low opinion of me, but that's just too bad." They were nearing camp, and passed some Stormcloaks snickering about the general and admiral sneaking off. Baldur payed no mind to the soldiers, as he was used to it by now. He actually rather enjoyed it. Their relationship was talked about even moreso than the High King and Queen, although it wasn't always for good reasons. A lot of it was also because of their profession, since couples fighting together wasn't common anymore. "Well I'll be there to make things easier if something does go south. You know I could never stay at the inn anyway from this unless you really thought it necessary. You know, word about us has gotten around pretty far as of late, I hear. There's even word from the Bard's College about a few songs and poems written on us. The name was...anonymous. Who knows, if they're well received, maybe they'll even catch the ears of others outside of Skyrim." Rebec stopped in her tracks. "You're kidding." She thought about that a second, then burst out laughing. "People must be really hard up for things to sing about. Some bard crooning about you and me in a tavern, that's a new one." She'd reached her pack and grabbed up a flask of water. With the first swig she cleaned out her mouth and spat into the remains of the fire. Then she went on to a bottle of mead. After a few drinks, she said, "You know, I'm beat and would just as soon get some shut-eye. Maz'll be kicking us out of the bedroll before we know it. Besides, I think you need to cool off a little." She smirked at this and elbowed him playfully. Baldur smiled at her playing and gave her a kiss on the light bruise on her forehead. "That's fine with me. You take good care of me, so I have no complaints. You laying beside me is more than enough." "Anyway, I can't compete with a giantess." Rebec grinned and tugged on his arm. After they got themselves ready for bed, she snuggled in next to Baldur on the bedroll and drew the furs around them. She played with his beard a little before settling in to sleep with a contented sigh. It was the best part of their adventures, that at the end of it, he was always there to hold her.

Baldur, Rebec, Boldir, Mila, Carlotta Markarth/ Whiterun Baldur and Rebec, Markarth, morning After protesting so much about wearing the dress, Rebec had a hard time getting back into her leathers again. She decided it was time to get some new ones, but that could wait. There wasn't much left for them to do in Markarth, however they needed a day to gather supplies and wait for some Stormcloak reinforcements, so she suggested to Baldur they take their breakfast out somewhere, and that they visit the Talos temple which had started the whole rebellion. The temple was underwhelming since there was still no priest for it, so no one was caring for the shrine, though it was obvious a few people did come to put down offerings. After that they climbed higher until there was no Markarth left to scale, and picked a sunny ledge on which to eat their breakfast. Rebec laid out the bits of bread and cheese, then took an apple for herself. Biting into it, she looked out over the city and said, "This place is nicer from a distance. It's not quite so creepy as it was before, though, knowing your ma and the other Dibellans are here all the time." Despite the dangerous reputation of the city, Baldur could hear the sounds of children playing down below. Their cries of laughter made him smile for multiple reasons, most of them obvious. Baldur after all these years was finally starting to appreciate this city more. Seeing some of the good in it recently helped. Meeting his mom and seeing a side of Rebec that he didn't know existed. Baldur once again used the claws on his gauntlets to help him eat his food, this time using them to cut a green apple into slices. Baldur placed a sour apple slice in his mouth, closing his eyes as he did to better savor the sour sweet juices in every bite. In between the chewing, Baldur said, "I see the Dibellans grew on you. I was going to apologize for leaving you with them at first until I saw what they did to you. They're like a frenzy of giggling sharks. Eesh, I don't know how you did it." said Baldur, slightly laughing as he did. Baldur thought back to how hard it was to get out of the temple that morning with them all trying to ask him questions about their night and what he thought of the dress. Baldur couldn't get out of there faster. "And that Hulga woman...I don't like the way she was looking at me...cracking her knuckles and such...No, I'd say the city still has some creep in it. What does she do anyway?" Rebec turned to look at him and lifted a brow. "Do you really want to know? She picked me up and cracked every joint in my body. Then they flayed the skin off me. You know what, let's not talk about it. The result was good enough. You seemed pleased anyway." Reaching out a booted foot, she kicked his leg playfully. "I don't know what I thought about them, before. It didn't seem like a very Nord thing, what they do, but I guess it is. Just a different kind of Nord than we're used to." Baldur's face lit up with confusion from Rebec's answer, then slight worry when he realized the woman may have tried doing that to him. "Whoa, hold on a second, she did what now? Remind me to keep her from me. But then again, you seemed to like it and you're right, I sure did like the outcome, hehehe. I'm surprised you didn't get in some kind of fight with her. Your...reputation with priests...well." Baldur gave a stupid grin as he took another bite of apple. "Ha, yes. I started to tell Ysana about my run-in with the priestess in Whiterun, but decided there are some stories that should probably wait til after she knows us better. Speaking of seeing your tongue lolling on the ground, you enjoyed that day a little too much, too." Rebec laughed, shaking her head at the memory. "I'm glad Mila wasn't around to see that. Between you giving her that sword and me... being me, Carlotta's going to ban us as bad influences." Baldur face palmed himself when he remembered all the times he forgot to edit the content of his speech in front of Mila. "Yes, luckily Mila knows how to keep a secret, or Carlotta would have tanned my hide. I'm really not a good influence on her at all. Heh, remember...." ********** Baldur Whiterun Hold 10 am "You get your sorry ass back here!" said a racing Baldur as he charged through the streets of Whiterun in hot pursuit of his target. Baldur was chasing down a dangerous bandit who was stupid enough to walk into Whiterun hold. The man was rather huge, exactly the size of Boldir, yet despite that, he was pretty damn fast. Baldur and the bandit now charged their way through the market district. With Baldur hot on his tail. Two old women walked in front of him, blocking off his path, but Baldur couldn't risk the criminal escaping. Quickly Baldur made his decision. He couldn't knock over the old women, but he could run over the redguard in fancy clothes standing next to them. No one liked him anyway and the last time he spoke to that asshole, he reminded him all too much of a Thalmor Justiciar with his snooty attitude. Except he was ten times worse. Baldur pivoted to the right around the old women and ran right over the man who was talking with Carlotta commenting on how her cabbage wasn't very fresh. One minute he was standing in front of her, the next a black cape and silver bear symbol flashed in front of her eyes and Nazeem was on the ground cursing and nursing the back of his head. "Whoops, sorry about that! Hi Carlotta!" said Baldur as he continued his pursuit. It took everything Carlotta had in her not to burst out laughing. "Good morning Baldur!" she called after her brother-in-law. The large bandit looked over his shoulder as sprinted up the steps beyond the market, heading past the wall and into the Wind district. He spotted Baldur pushing past some civilian, still in hot pursuit. Damn it! He's still behind me! He had hoped to lose the Stormcloak in the lunchtime market crowd. I'll have to get creative. The bandit had spent plenty of time in the city, and he was fairly certain that he knew it better than his pursuer. Immediately, he cut left beyond the wall, and leapt over a fence into the Gray-Manes' backyard. Hopping over their cow and rounding the house, he figured he could lose the Stormcloak easily enough in this neighborhood. After crossing the street again and bounding and swerving through several backyards, he suddenly cut right again and headed behind the Hall of the Dead. He was sure that he'd have lost the Stormcloak by now. Baldur saw the bandit and knew where he was headed despite not knowing the city quite as well as he did. But when Baldur saw the cow on his way to the man, Baldur suddenly had a plan. Baldur unsheathed one of his axes and leaped up onto the cow and smacked it on the ass like he did before with the cow they gave to Ness. The sudden shock of not one but two large men jumping over the cow, one of them staying on and the smack on the ass sent the cow charging. Baldur tugged on it's ears to direct the cow where he wanted to. At the top of his lungs, Baldur cried, "I've got you now, you bitch!" The bandit remained hiding behind the Hall of the Dead. His heart was pounding, and he could feel sweat on his brow, but the bandit wasn't yet tired. A lifetime of conditioning made sure of that. He peered around the corner of the building. Ha! Lost him! "I've got you know, you bitch!" What in the the-? "MOOOOO!" What appeared to be a flying cow appeared across the street, zooming over the backyard fence of the Gray-Manes' house, with none other than the Stormcloak General sitting upon it. His black cape was flowing behind him, and his Nordic axe was high in the air. Of course, the cow wasn't flying, and as soon as it had cleared the low fence, it came back to Nirn. But it didn't stop. The Stormcloak was holding it by the ears, seemingly controlling it. The charging cow was charging his way. The bandit immediately turned and ran, making a loop around the Hall, back towards the city center. He looked over his shoulder as he rounded the Gildergreen. The General and his new cow steed were gaining on him. He ignored the frightened onlookers and darted left, towards Dragonsreach. For an ordinary bandit, that would be suicide, but this bandit wasn't ordinary, and he knew it was the safest course of action for dealing with the cow. He reached the stairs, hearing the hooves clopping not far behind him, and sprinted up with all the speed he could muster. Tck, moron. You've trapped yourself. Baldur's cow was slowing down a tad on his way up the steps, but he gave the cow another whack and the cow was instantly rejuvenated. A man dressed up in imperial armor said something about smashing his face in for all Baldur's done, but the cow knocked him off the steps into the water below before he could finish his sentence. They finally made it up to the door of Dragon's Reach, trapping the bandit between the door and Baldur who had the steps blocked off. "Nowhere to run, now. Come quietly and I'll go..."easy" on you, hehehe." The bandit looked hard at the General, then at the bridge railings. The things I do for this shit. He scowled at Baldur as he slowly and cautiously walked forward. "You're really persistent with this aren't you?" With that, the bandit dove over the edge of the railing, into the cold water of the Castle's most below. He opened his eyes and immediately swam for the far edge and climbed out. Before the cow could turn fully around, the soaking bandit had rushed back down the steps toward the city proper. Baldur facepalmed himself when he saw his mistake. "Of course he'd just jump down there. That's quite the long fall though. Glad I don't have to go down there that way." Baldur had the cow turn around before smacking it on the ass as hard as he could to charge down towards the bandit. Except it didn't charge. The cow approached the stairs slowly, putting a hoof down on the first step and then it pulled it's leg back and turned around. No amount of smacking the cow would get it to go down those stairs. Baldur started cursing and swearing all sorts of obscenities when he realized his mistake. Cows can't climb down stairs. "Goddamit I hate stupid cows!" Baldur quickly hopped off the beast and ran towards the ridge that the bandit had leaped off of, seeing that it was faster than running down the whole flight of steps again. "When I get you, I'm gonna have your balls for garteeeeeeerrrs!" said Baldur, screaming all the way down as the heavily armored general fell into the water bellow like a boulder tied to a giant. Baldur luckily landed close to the stairway leading out of the water and didn't have to swim far to get out of the pond, which was a blessing with all his armor. Quickly Baldur ran double time to catch up to the bandit before he could escape the city. Once again Baldur ran his way through the Market district, this time soaking wet but in the opposite direction. The same annoying Redguard from before was still there, this time very angry from being humiliated before and he was taking it out on poor Carlotta yelling to everyone that her produce was in fact not as fresh as advertised. Just while he was in the middle of his rant, Baldur once again ran right over him. "Sorry again! Hi again Carlotta!" Carlotta waved, but by the time she had opened her mouth to respond, Baldur was out of earshot. She looked down at the arrogant Redguard, this time making no effort to hide her laughter. The bandit smiled as he made for the city gate. He knew that he'd bought enough time to escape the Stormcloak General. He didn't take the market path this time. Instead, he opted to cut straight for the gate behind the buildings on he north side of the Main Street. After passing a little ways, he finally reached back of the last building before the gate. He knew that once he passed through the gate, there'd be no stopping him. He'd be free. Ha! Looks like even the great Baldur Red-Snow wasn't enough to stop m- *thunk* The bandit abruptly dropped to his knees as, out of seemingly nowhere, a sword struck hard into the back of his left calf. "Gotcha!" The bandit couldn't hide the surprised look on his face as he glanced behind himself. Out of a bush he'd passed, walked a little girl holding a small sword and wearing a huge smile. Mila Iron-Brow circled around the man, still smiling wide, and put her wooden sword to her father's neck. "Where is your partner?" Before Boldir could answer her, he heard the quick footsteps of Baldur approaching behind him. "Checkmate!" said Baldur, smiling as he saw that their plan was a success. Baldur ran as fast as he could and leaped into the air towards "The Bandit", sending all of his weight into Boldir's body, tackling him into the ground. It was rather unnecessary to do, but Baldur couldn't resist. Standing up after sending Boldir into the ground, Baldur put his arm around Mila's and his boot on Boldir's chest. "Now, answer the Boss's question, meat. Or we'll have to do some interrogating." Boldir groaned. Really?! He wanted to curse at Baldur for the over unnecessarily painful display, but in the last couple weeks he'd gotten better at watching his tongue around Mila. Instead, he just shot Baldur a brief fiery glance. Boldir was pretty sure that his brother was enjoying this game even more than Mila was. Might as well make this difficult for them. "So you want my partner eh?" Boldir shrugged, which was hard to do when you've got a heavily armored Nord forcing his weight on you. "That's too bad, because I don't have one." Baldur leaned in a bit with more weight now getting closer to Boldir's face, grinning like a young boy as he did. "Listen you sorry shit. Oops, Mila, you didn't hear that." said Baldur, covering his mouth once he realized he slipped up yet again. "Man, this is hard. My pa never watched his words around me. None of the adults did. Anyway, tell us where your boss is now or we're taking you in the back and we're gonna force it outta you!" From behind Mila, a rope snaked through the air and its loop end dropped over Baldur's head. Before he could react, it was quickly drawn tight. "You found the boss. Unhand my partner or you'll have to suck mead through your nose for the rest of your life." Rebec stepped to the girl's side and gave her a little wink, then jerked on the rope to make sure her prey knew he was caught. Baldur was completely taken by surprise and even started to panic some at the feel of rope around his neck. That is until he heard Rebec's voice behind him. Baldur was crestfallen at losing the game, since he was a little more into it then the others, but he knew he was beat. Baldur lifted his foot and bowed his head in defeat. "Alright alright, you win. Now get this blasted rope from around my neck!" Chuckling, Rebec walked up and loosened the lasso, slipping it over Baldur's head. "Don't worry, you'll live to terrorize cows another day. Have to admit, before this trip, I didn't know cows could move that fast." Boldir stood up and flicked water off of his still-wet glove at Mila, who jumped back from the unexpected cold. "That's the last time I'm pulling a stunt like that for a game." He looked over at Baldur and said with the straightest of faces, "So about that cow... The Jarl's gonna want it off his bridge you know." Baldur smiled mischievously as he spoke. "Not my problem. I've got more important things to worry about. I have to take a visit with Rebec to the healer for my hand. The Jarl can deal with it. That's what he gets for being so damn grumpy. The cow wasn't in the best of moods either when I left..." Boldir's grin finally broke out. "I'm not gonna have to arrest you for livestock theft am I?" "You wouldn't dare...No wait, you just might after being crushed into nord pie..." said Baldur. "The cow will come home on her own when she's hungry enough," answered Rebec, being the authority in the Nord Tribunal on bovine matters. "Come on, Farmer Baldur, we're keeping the Kynareth lady waiting." "Hey Boldir, you might as well come. You don't have anything going on besides sitting right? Oh I mean guarding, hehehe." said Baldur jokingly. "Sure, I'll come along." Boldir looked at Mila. "The lunch crowd should be over by now. You know what your mom said." "Can I have a few coins before I go?" the girl asked. "One of the new merchants has taffy." Boldir was about to tell her to just grab an apple from Carlotta's stand, but decided against it. He figured this could count as a reward for her getting the jump on him. He fished in his satchel for a small bag of coins and have it to Mila. It was more than she needed for the candy. "Consider this your week's allowance." "It's only Tirdas." "Then you owe me some chores little lady." He patted her on the back. "Off you go now." As he watched Mila run off, Boldir spoke to Baldur. "So the temple eh? I haven't been in there but one time before." He grinned. "Should he a nice break from all the sitting I do now." "You'd think you'd have more than enough to do just teaching all these milk drinkers how to fight, junior," Rebec said as they walked towards the temple. "Half these guards look so slack-jawed it's a wonder they can hit the piss pot, let alone hit something with a sword. Vignar must have gotten down on his creaky knees and thanked Talos when you decided to take this job." "That's one thing I plan to change." Boldir said. "Next week, I'll be scrapping their current training regime all together, and replacing it with the one I used down in Neugrad in the months before before Pale Pass. There are a few that show some potential though. There are some good archers, and Burik, my second in command, was also a soldier." "This town's squeaky clean anyway. Makes me itch. You might have to import some criminals from Riften if you want to keep your men in shape." They had arrived at the temple plaza, and Rebec paused to look at the tree. "Take this tree for instance. They've got a pink tree, and no one's even trying to take a leak on it. That's just not right." Baldur put a hand over his face as he shook his head. "Rebec, you blockhead. That's the Gildergreen. They think Kyne, or rather "Kynareth" as others are calling her made these special trees. It's sacred. They're supposed to be uncuttable too." said Baldur as he knocked on Rebec's noggin. "Kyne made a tree," Rebec repeated skeptically. "A tree with fluffy pink flowers. I don't think so." Baldur scoffed as he crossed his arms. "Don't look at me, that's what these milkdrinkers think. Damn Imperial influence. I may piss on that tree just to prove a point." "And then junior here will have to arrest you." Rebec grinned. "Come on, enough chatter. Your hand isn't getting any better with us lollygagging here." Inside the temple, she was even more skeptical, however. There were little pools of water and pots of herbs, and wind chimes playing a subtle tune. Before she got to comment about it, a woman in a priestess robe approached them. "Have you come to pay homage to Kynareth?" "Don't know anybody named Kynareth," Rebec answered. "This is General Baldur Red-Snow, I'm his wife Rebec. We're here to see about healing his hand." "Oh, that's right. Well, General, I welcome you. I am Danica Pure-Spring, the priestess of Kynareth here. Let me see that hand." Baldur looked to his hand which he lately had became less and less aware of unless Rebec mentioned it. He undid the straps keeping his gauntlets attached to his arm, then slowly removed them, revealing his clammy shaking appendage. "I gave up trying to still it's movement for a while now. Sometimes it stops on it's own, such as in battle as I noticed during the war, but other times it seems to have a mind of it's own. It's slightly numb now, which makes it hard to grasp things like my axes. I also feel like it has needles pricking it. Like I sat on it too long or something. And it gets worse every day. But gradually." The priestess frowned. "You should have come to me sooner. I will need you to remove your armor. Come with me." She gestured to a side room, then looked back at the others. "It is better if I see a patient alone. This will take some time." Danica then ushered Baldur toward the side room, with Rebec left sputtering behind them. Sighing in exasperation, Rebec turned to Boldir. "What do you think of that. I don't much care for the idea of some strange priestess woman running her hands all over Baldur's chest." Boldir was a little surprised by her reaction to something as minor as Baldur being taken to a separate room. He couldn't remember hearing jealousy like this coming from Rebec before, not while sober anyway. "I doubt she'll do that. It's just a healing. He raised an eyebrow. "I don't need to step outside for this do I?" "What... No." Rebec scowled and glanced around. "It's this place. It's weird. None of the Dunmer ever took one of our soldiers to a back room to heal him. Who knows what she could be doing in there." She paced a little, and seeing Boldir's expression, said, "Oh, don't mind me. I'm just worried about him, I guess. You saw his hand shaking like that, and the priestess was worried, too. I should've made him talk to Runil about it." "He wouldn't have listened anyway." answered Boldir as he walked over to one of the healing beds in the room and looked at a sleeping Breton laying on it. Boldir couldn't see anything visibly wrong with the man, but there must've been something or he wouldn't be in here. "Baldur was so preoccupied with the war, he wouldn't have taken the time for himself, and we didn't exactly wait around to give him a chance after the battle." Still a little curious, Boldir prodded at the sleeping man's chest a couple times, but he didn't move. Shrugging, he turned away and smiled at Rebec. "He'll be fine. Baldur is as tough as a Nord can get. The man came back from the dead for Talos's sake! I don't think a shaky hand is more than he can overcome." Rebec took a seat on one of the benches, or what she thought was a bench. Glancing down, she noticed a red stain on it and made a face, but didn't get up. She was a soldier and blood didn't bother her. Glancing at Boldir, she said, "Tell me about Helgen. You were there, right? To think a dragon saved you and Baldur from getting your heads lopped off." "Helgen?" Boldir remembered it all too well. It was a story he planned to tell Mila some time soon, probably with great embellishment to his role in it. "Can't say much really. Baldur was the hero there. It's where he became the Unkindled. I cut some people's binds and killed a few Imperials." He paused for a second. "Though I did get a nice souvenir to remember it all by." He pointed at the long scar on his left cheek. "An Imperial archer was kind enough to suggest making myself a helmet... Of course, if anyone else asks, the Dragon's talon did it." Rebec grinned. "On my honor. So you got saved from the headsman's axe by Alduin the World Eater. Now there's a story. Not that I really believe that was Alduin, or we'd all be dragon scat by now. You ever think of that? If Alduin eats the world, then he must crap out the new one. So all of this..." She gestures around them. "Must be made of dragon dookie." The temple has obviously made her feel philosophical. "Uh huh." Boldir didn't put much stock in religious tales. Even the gods he actually followed were followed more for what they represented than what old books and priests claimed that they'd done. "Of course, I tell Carlotta, Mila, and everyone else who listens that it was in fact the World Eater. Though if that Dragon I saw has eaten a world before, it must've been a much smaller world than this one." "Alright, they won't hear any different from me. He was big enough, anyway. I wonder if they'll ever rebuild that place properly. Without the imperial garrison, it won't be much of a town." She glanced at Boldir. "You know, Baldur talks about starting a town somewhere." "Yeah, I know." said Boldir. "It's an old joke from before the assault on Rommulas. We were both going to meet a perfect woman and continue our perfect lives in our new perfect town... Can't say I ever expected either of us to get past the first part." "You both got that first part down, anyway." Rebec grinned and fell silent, thoughtful. Boldir didn't seem to take the idea seriously, but she knew Baldur did. Living in a town would mean either giving up sailing or being away from him for weeks on end... Chasing that thought away, Rebec stirred and said, "Anyway, now Alduin. There's a real god for you. None of this wind-chime, flowers and chanting stuff. That's what Nord gods do. This Kynareth business is nonsense. Nord gods rule the world, and if they can't rule the world, they ******* destroy it!" The side door had opened just as Rebec declared this. Danica stood in the doorway, giving her a disapproving look. She approached them, saying, "I gave the general his first treatment, but I'll want to see him tomorrow as well. Lots of rest and no physical activity. No strong drink. Only pure water and nourishing foods." Rebec stood, her expression skeptical. "If you say so. Thanks, uh... mother. Reverend. What have you." "Just Danica." "I suppose you want some coin." "If you would like to make an offering, that would be welcome. Leave it at the altar." Exchanging a look with Boldir, Rebec peered over the priestess' shoulder to see if Baldur was going to come out in one piece. Baldur came out in a hurry while he was just putting his gauntlets back on while closing and opening his grip to feel the change in his hand. The reason being of course the comment of "no strong drink". With a bewildered look on his face, Baldur said, "Hold on a second, did I hear you right? No strong drink? What am I supposed to do all day with no physical activity if I can't at least have some mead? I guess I can write some, but I always have a drink nearby when I do." Danica shot him a stern look. "There are other drinks besides mead." "You could just drink milk." The heads of the three Nords all swiveled at once. Now sitting up on his sickbed was the Breton Boldir had prodded at earlier. "What did you say?" asked a slightly bewildered Boldir. He figured he must've heard wrong. "Err, milk," said the Breton, a little confused by the faces he was being given. "You know, like from a cow? That's what I've been drinking since my healing." "Rebec, Boldir, get me the hell out of here...please?" said Baldur with a genuinely worried looking face. "I'm not drinking no damn milk. I'm thirty nine. I need my mead! Damn milkdrinkers trying to poison me, I swear!" The admiral shook her head. "That's what you get with these funny imperial gods. Next thing you know, you're hitting the high notes." She went to the altar and stacked some coins there. On her way back, Rebec noticed the priestess looking at her. "You've got an amulet of Kynareth on," Danica said. "It's Kyne, thank you very much." "Our lady is one and the same. How can you wear her symbol and blaspheme her at the same time?" Snorting, Rebec said, "Look, priestess, my Kyne is the goddess of war and the north winds. When she talks, it's in shrieks and bellows, not in tinkly little chimes. She's a hawk that swoops down on her prey, not some songbird." "The wind can be strong or gentle, the air mild or biting cold. It's all the work of Kynareth." "And that pink flowery tree out there is her work, too?" "Of course. That tree has been here longer than there was a city." Rebec made a skeptical noise and turned to leave. "Thanks, Danica. We'll be back tomorrow." "Let's settle it the Nord way." Stopping in her tracks, Rebec turned back. "What do you mean? Your Nord way doesn't seem to be my kind." "With our fists." That was her kind of Nord way, alright. The priestess couldn't seriously be suggesting... "Come again?" Danica balled her fists and hit the air once. "We brawl, outside. Just you and me. If I win, you'll acknowledge the glory of Kynareth and her holy temple. If you win, I'll leave you alone." When she got no answer, the priestess said, "You're scared. And you call yourself a Nord?" Dumbfounded, Rebec looked at Baldur and Boldir. Baldur was the first to bust out laughing at the absurdity at the notion. "Oh by the gods Rebec, if you lose, I'll never let you live this down! Hahahaha!" Boldir wanted to laugh at the fact that Danica actually believed Rebec would be afraid of a her, a civilian, a priestess at that. It was even funnier that she believed that she stood a chance against the war-hardened sailer in a fight. But since he'd only recently been appointed as Commander of the guard, Boldir felt like he should at least try to defuse the situation. He shot the healer an icy stair. "Danica, you know she's not afraid of you. What do you care what Rebec believes? Let it go." Danica ignored the bystanders and stared directly at Rebec. "What do you say? Put your fists where your mouth is." The admiral rubbed the back of her neck, knowing she ought to decline. There was no way this little priestess, Nord or not, could beat her in a fight. Nevertheless Rebec was the one who was talking about the old Nord ways, and this was one of them. Finally, she looked up. "Alright. Brawl. It's a good thing you can heal yourself when we're done." Grinning, the priestess went on ahead of them out into the plaza. Rebec exchanged a glance with her husband and Boldir, then followed. The sick Breton climbed down out of his bed and hobbled after them. He wasn't missing this. Baldur was like a Nord in a brewery at this point. He never got to see Rebec in a brawl before, let alone with another woman. Nothing was more exciting then seeing two women fight, especially when one of those women is your wife. Baldur nudged Boldir and spoke to him and the Breton in a low tone. "So, we all know Rebec's gonna win, but how quick? My guess, three punches and the priest is down. Any takers? Three may be generous, but I felt that woman's hands. Tougher than you think." Boldir shook his head. "This is Rebec we're talking about here. Three is definitely generous. Fifteen Septims that she's down in less." As the men followed the women and the milk-drinking Breton outside, Boldir noticed the typical guards on patrol. "Oh well." he muttered. I tried to stop it. He grinned, secretly glad that he'd been ignored. Now he was anxious for the fight to get underway. Baldur took Boldir's hand in a shake with his fifteen septims in it. "You're on, Iron-Cheeks. What about you m-, I mean Breton? Keep in mind, Rebec's put down grown men with her left hook before. And hurry up before the brawl starts." The Breton looked at Baldur, an unsure expression on his face. "Uhh two Septims-" "Two Septims?!" Interrupted Boldir. "Gods above man what are you doing in Skyrim?" "Fine. Ten Septims on Danica winning," he said with more confidence. Baldur looked at Boldir with his mouth wide open, an expression born clearly from a mixture of disbelief of the pure stupidity and feeling insulted as well. "Tell you what Breton, how about after I take your money in this bet, you and I brawl, eh? Boldir, I got my forty septims already in tow in case I have to assault someone..." With that, Baldur ignored the little man and kept his eyes fixated on the fighters with glee in his eyes. Outside, on the plaza near the Gildergreen, Danica had thrown back her hood and pushed up her sleeves, and was wrapping her fists with linen tape usually used for bandages. Rebec eyed her a bit, then started unbuckling her cuirass, stripping down to her woollen undershirt and leather trousers. If the priestess was going to fight in a robe, Rebec didn't want any unfair advantage. She deposited her cuirass and axe belt next to Baldur. "That grin of yours gets any bigger, Red-Snow, and your face is going to split." Danica threw her the tape when she was done, and Rebec looked at it for a minute, smiling, before she started wrapping her fists, as well. The priestess knew her brawling. It was the only thing that caused Rebec to worry a little. Passers-by who realized what was going on stopped to gawk. When the priestess was ready, she took out her Kynareth amulet and kissed it. Rebec glanced down at her amulet, but decided against doing the same. Kyne didn't play kissyface when there was a fight on. "No magic, no weapons," Danica called out, declaring the terms of the duel. "I don't do magic and I don't cheat," Rebec answered gruffly. Well, she didn't cheat much. The two women raised their fists and closed in, circling each other. This went on for a minute and Rebec figured the priestess was afraid to get hit. She'd get more afraid. Closing in quickly, Rebec threw a few rabbit punches to test the defenses. Danica easily blocked them and even got in a jab that was a near miss. Okay, not an amateur. I knew that. Rebec decided to take control of the fight quickly. She moved in fast, feinting left before coming in under the priestess' arms for a body blow. Danica took the punch with a grunt and threw out a counter-punch, which Rebec blocked. Then, to the admiral's surprise, Danica's left fist shot out faster than she'd thought possible and connected with Rebec's jaw. The admiral stumbled back a bit, stunned. It was the first real punch of the fight, and she hadn't gotten it. Not only was the priestess not afraid of being hit, she could hit herself. Hard. Danica's smile and the glint in her eye were merciless, and she didn't wait for her opponent to recover before she closed in again. Baldur nudged Boldir in the chest as the fight went on. "What I tell you? That's one punch on the priest Iron-Scrotum! Getting nervous?" "Since when did body hits count in a fight like this?" argued Boldir. "No one is going to go down from that." In truth, after seeing that Danica knew how to fight pretty well, Boldir figured he'd lost the bet, which was a little disappointing considering that he'd been giving more credit to Rebec than her own husband, and he'd wanted to rub that in Baldur's face later. He looked over at the Breton, who was smiling more widely than a Dunmer kid playing with fire. "Don't know why he's so excited. Decent fighter or not, Danica doesn't have a chance." "Yea, well just in case, let me give her a little encouragement..." Baldur cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, "Hey Rebec! You lose and she may try to lay claim to me! She had her hands on me longer than what was necessary in that room!" Alright. Enough Miss Nice Nord, Rebec thought. Then out of the corner of one ear she heard Baldur calling out to her. Oh, that did it! Danica was prepared for an onslaught and started dodging more often, and before long her lip was bleeding. "C'mon, snowback, HIT ME!" "You picked the wrong heathen to convert, priest," Rebec taunted back. Around and around the circular plaza they went, each one getting in hits and taking them, as well. They were both good fighters and on the cautious side, so it wasn't going to end quickly. The onlookers got louder as the fight wore on, and Baldur and Boldir weren't the only ones laying down bets. At one point the brawlers plowed into the onlookers as they gave up punching and just started wrestling instead. When someone yelled out "catfight," Rebec straightened and pulled Danica up after her. She hated that term and the implication that women were sissy fighters. The priestess just wouldn't tire, and she wouldn't go down. Her face was bloody and blood was seeping through the tape on both sets of fists. It was time to get creative. The next time Danica rushed her, Rebec leaped up and grabbed the Gildergreen branch above her with both hands and swung away. She hoped to land a hard kick but the priestess grabbed her legs and Rebec was forced to try to choke her instead. "Not... the... sacred... tree," Danica gasped. "I don't give a shit about your tree!" Rebec was forced to care when the priestess got her feet on a bench and jutted up hard with the back of her head into the other's solar plexus. Gasping, Rebec let go of the branch and the two women collapsed into a heap of flying fists and feet. The crowd by now reached up the steps towards Dragonsreach, and included quite a few guardsmen, who were yelling as loud as anyone else. Finally the brawlers climbed to their feet, using each other for support. They were both stumbling, but as they came up Rebec had the upper hand. She grasped the front of Danica's robe with one hand while the other drew back to land the final punch. This would be the one that ended the fight. Danica could barely see out of her puffy, bleeding eyes. "Lady Kynareth, I'm sorry," she wheezed. Rebec hesitated. The women stared at each other blearily. Finally, the admiral gave a little shove, and very gently, Danica crumpled back into the bench behind her and laid her head back as if she was settling in for a little nap. Rebec just stood there, dazed and weaving on her feet. "HELL YEA! That's my wife, daughter of KYNE! Pay up, Breton!" Baldur didn't wait for the Breton to put the coin in his hands. Instead he just swiped it out and placed five of it in Boldir's hands. "Okay, Boldir. We were both wrong on how many punches it would take, so half is yours." Boldir smiled and pocketed the coins. "I'm glad we were. That was a good fight." Most of the crowd agreed with Boldir, though there were some arguments over how close it had been. The town alchemist stepped in to check on Danica, who was mumbling something about the glory of Kynareth. With a drink of potion, the priestess soon had her head back up and stood to her feet. "You might have a touch of the rattles," the alchemist was saying as she led her off back towards the temple. Danica stopped when she saw Baldur, and pointed a bloody finger at him. "No shrong drink," she said, sounding like she had rags stuffed in her mouth. "Come back tomorrah. You!" The Breton got a stern glare. "Backth to bed!" The Breton patient, light of coin and not about to see if the priestess had another round in her, hustled off to the temple. Rebec was satisfied when she saw Danica was up and talking. Stumbling over to Baldur and Boldir, the admiral smiled, but was having trouble talking, too. "Now thash was a fight!" "Hell yea it was!" said Baldur after placing a hand on her shoulder and shaking her a bit. "I'd offer you a drink...but. Well. You and Boldir can grab a drink from the tavern. I'm gonna go write or something. How do you think that priestess learned to fight so well?" "She's a Nord," Rebec answered. That much was clear, though not much else was clear. "I think I'm gonna owe you that drink, tshunior. I don't feel sho good." Boldir grinned. "I think you've earned a free one after all that. I'll pay." He nodded back to the temple and jingled around the coins he'd won. "Our milk drinking friend helped pay for mine already." "Alright. Jusht one. And milkth for Balthur! Hahaha! Urgh..." Laughing was too ambitious in Rebec's condition and hurt like getting stuck with horker tusks, so she fell into her husband and hung on his neck. "C'mon, lovurrboy. Help a girl outh." Baldur caught her by the waist to give her support, then slung her right arm over his shoulders. "Hmph, I have half a mind to drop you for that! Come on, I'll help you limp to the tavern. I suppose I won't die from some water. Alright, lets go you two." The next day, Baldur and Rebec returned to the temple for his second treatment. Rebec was a little bruised herself, and more sheepish, even if she had technically won. Danica was cheerful, however. As was no surprise, she'd healed herself overnight and had hardly a scratch on her. "I'll give you something for those bruises," she said as she ushered Baldur into the side room again. Tired of hearing the little wind chimes, Rebec decided to wait outside in the plaza. Off in the distance, the Talos preacher was shouting. That was almost as annoying as the wind chimes. A few minutes later, Danica came out. "The general will be out soon. I gave him some exercises to do with his hand." "Is it bad?" "It wasn't good, but he'll recover if he follows my instructions. How did he get those scars on his body?" "He was tortured by the Thalmor." At that, the priestess sat down as well. "Horrible. I'll give you some cream to rub into the scars. The treatments I've given him should help with those, too, and any deep tissue damage he still has. He'll probably always have some pain and tingling, though." "Thank you." Baldur hadn't mentioned any pain, but that was no surprise. "I, uh... I guess I should apologize. You're the one who suggested the brawl and everything, but I'm a soldier and I knew you couldn't beat me." Danica gave her a little smile. "I knew I couldn't beat you, either." Rebec stared. "Why in Oblivion did you challenge me, then?" "I like a good fight. Mostly it was because I knew it would make you stop and think about what I said. Otherwise, you'd just walk out and go on as you had been." "Does that bother you so much?" "Does it bother you so much that I say 'Kynareth' instead of 'Kyne'?" Rebec thought about it, then replied, "Yes, it does. It's making her someone that she's not. All along the Nords have been trying to imitate the imperials, and it seems wrong to change the names of our gods to suit them." "It's just a name. If someone gives you a nickname, does that mean you aren't the same person? The gods aren't so different from us. I'm sure you're one way with your husband and another way with a priestess who challenges you to a brawl and says you're not a real Nord. You're still the same woman." That seemed like trickery to Rebec. "It just feels wrong." "The gods are bigger than our small ideas of them. Would you make our lady's power limited, out of a sense of Nord pride?" "The imperials limit her, not us." Danica shook her head. "No. When Saint Alessia sought the help of the gods to free her people, it was Kyne who answered. The Nords taught the imperials the ways of Kynareth, not the other way around." Rebec was about to ask why the priests were using the imperial name for her then, but figured she'd get the same answer as before. "She doesn't seem the same to me, when they talk about her." "It's all in how you look at it. Kynareth is a warrior and huntress. She subdues the beasts, but she's not cruel, and so they love her. Her breath brings death, but it also is the gift of life, so we love her." That sounded very fine, and it seemed logical, though Rebec was still suspicious. Baldur came out of the temple just as she had another thought. Glancing at him, she asked Danica, "You really think this tree came from Kynareth?" She expected the priestess to answer confidently, but instead, Danica hesitated. "To be honest, I'm not sure. This city is special to Kynareth. The Gildergreen has survived a long time, and it's only the child of an even greater tree called the Eldergleam. We restored the child by taking an offering from its parent, using a weapon that hagravens make for sacrificing spriggans. Look at it now. It's more lovely than ever. Even if it is not blessed by Kynareth, how is it shameful to praise her for its beauty?" Rebec had no answer for that. It was true that Whiterun seemed to be Kyne's place. There was the Skyforge, with its great hawk looking down on a ship that seemed to be as old as Ysgramor. One of Rebec's ancestors might have steered that same ship from Atmora. Why had they brought it all the way inland, unless there was something sacred here that they wanted the Nords to always remember? In that same place, an ancient tree still grew. Maybe there was something to it. The idea of a tree sacred to Kyne being planted near to where an ancient Nord ship came to rest gave her an idea... Looking up at Baldur, she said, "Feeling better, love? Danica and I were just talking. No more brawling today." Baldur had seen them talking from a distance and figured with them sitting under the tree that surely talk of Kyne had cropped up. One of the pedals from the tree's pink flowers had settled in Baldur's hair unknowingly to himself in a manor that made it look like he had placed it there. Normally Baldur being a minstrel and somewhat a poet would have loved to take in the sight of the beautiful tree, but every time he heard the name Kynareth crop up, his eye twitched. Baldur walked before them looking at the two ladies sitting next to each other absent of fighting and eyed the two suspiciously. "Hmph, I'm feeling sober. As for my hand however, yea. Miss Danica here is a miracle worker. I'll place a sizable offering for the temple later. So, you two not fighting about Kyne anymore?" "Just in a different way," Danica answered, smiling. She stood up. "I'll leave you both alone, however. Admiral Rebec, thank you for the talk, and for yesterday's reminder that I'm not as fit as I used to be." As the priestess walked off, Rebec watched her a bit, then said, "I bet she was a bandit or something, back in the day." Baldur took his seat on the bench next to her now, watching the pink pedals drop on the ground before him as he spoke. "Or a sailor." said Baldur as he nudged her playfully with his knee. "So, what did you two talk about? She tried to feed me that spew about Kynareth. I listened out of respect and gratitude, but that was it. You?" "Probably the same speech. Some of it makes sense, I guess." Rebec shrugged. "You're not going to change people's minds, one way or the other. Danica obviously does good work here, so I suppose it doesn't matter." She told him her theory about the tree being related because the city must be a place special to Kyne and said, "It got me thinking. What if the old Nords brought those trees here from Atmora? It's a fact that we can't build ships like our ancestors must have had. They sailed all over the wild, far seas, not just puttering along the coast like we do now. Maybe it wasn't their smarts, but their wood. I wonder if I can get some wood from that old tree for my new ship." "The priest would likely faint. The wood is unbreakable though, so I don't see how the ancient Atmorans would have done such a thing. Not unless they somehow...." Baldur started scratching his chin. "The priest said that someone recently used a knife they obtained from some hags to repair the tree. She tell you that? Well, what if we found other weapons? Hopefully something bigger than a dagger. Then we could chop the sucker down and make your ship the toughest thing in the sea. I can have teams go searching and start hunting down covens." "What if there's only the two of them, this tree and the one she called the parent? If there are only the two like them in Skyrim, cutting it down entirely would be a crime. There surely aren't any more growing in Atmora, either." Rebec thought a moment. "The trickiest part to make in a ship is the rudder and the keel. They're under water all the time and the rudder takes a lot of beating. If we could just get one branch, that might be enough to make me a good rudder. But even that is a lot of work just for my ship. Fighting hagravens and all. Doesn't that... scare you?" Rebec snickered. Baldur narrowed his eyes at her from her little hint, along with a faint smile that he tried to stifle, but failed. "Watch it, Rebec...unless every last hagraven is out to wed me, no. Besides, the wood is worth it. I won't be going with them anyway since we have plans, although I'd like to. With news of what the Harbinger did to the Glenmoril Coven, the men would likely jump at the chance to prove themselves. We can send the recruits. They don't have anything else but training going on. Nothing better than the real deal to get them in shape. I'll make it a volunteer job. Then, we chop the sucker down. You ask me, a nigh invincible ship is worth the loss of some tree buried in a cave. Besides, we can just bury some of the branch and grow a new one. Most people don't know it's there apparently anyway." "Growing a new one would be worth the trip. Probably nobody's done it yet just because no one's cared enough to try. If it works, and I get a good ship out of it, that's worth getting preached at and shoved around in public by a priestess. Be honest. You weren't sure I was going to win, were you?" Danica had appeared again, with a bundle in her hand. She handed it to Rebec. "A potion for your bruises, and some cream for the general's scars. Come to see us any time you are in Whiterun. You are a true daughter of Kynareth, Rebec Red-Snow." "Kyne," Baldur and Rebec both said in unison. The priestess laughed and walked off, shaking her head. Baldur flipped the jar of light brown cream in his hands for a bit before opening it to smell. It had a scent of oats and a grassy smell to it, but that was mostly overpowered by the strong aroma of whatever medicine was put into it. Almost like alcohol but it had a thick funk to it that smelled heavy with sweet. It was an odd concoction to be sure. Baldur put the lid back on and continued. "I admit you had me worried in that fight, but I knew you'd win. I could tell it wouldn't be as easy as one hit but damn...Didn't expect that brawl. Doesn't get any better than seeing my warrior wife in action." Baldur scooted himself closer to her and placed his arms around Rebec's neck. "You know, I don't think I want to get rid of the scars." "They won't ever go away totally, I'm sure. Why would you want to keep them? Those must be awful memories." "They are. I still dream about it from time to time. But then I remember how it all ended and it's not so bad afterwards. They're a reminder of what I lived through and what I almost lost. It's hard to explain. I suppose the other part is just simple pride. Anyway drink your healing potion." "I can understand that. You should do what Danica says, though. She's a true Nord, not one of those elven witches." Rebec uncorked the potion, took a drink, and almost spit it out again. "Gah! That tastes like those giants smelled. What does she put in this anyway?" It was far more powerful than any healing potion she'd had before, however, and her aching ribs soon began to ease. Standing, Rebec gestured with her head. "C'mon, you can watch me while I drink a mead or two." Baldur reluctantly got up and followed, seeing as how he had nothing else better to do. Baldur looked back once more at the tree. It was amazingly beautiful. The way the sunlight was cast through the branches and shined through while the breeze carried away it's pedals spreading it's beauty around the area. The pink stood out so sharply in contrast from the rest of the city, but not in an obnoxious way. The soft pink flowering smelled as wonderfully as it looked. It captured everyone's attention like a fly in a web of magnificence and was truly a sight to behold. Baldur started wondering what if Kyne really did make these trees? What they were sacred and she didn't want them used for a boat? Could he really bring himself to hurt anything so beautiful? Would it not be best to just leave the Eldergleam be as it was for all those years in whatever cave Kyne or whoever decided to put it? Na, screw that noise. She'll get over it once she sees the ship. With that Baldur walked of to the tavern so that his cruel wife could torture him some more.

Skjari Midnight, some weeks earlier Imperial City Skjari was making his way back to the imperial palace through the garden in the Talos Plaza district. The streets were quiet with only a few guards that could be seen patrolling now and then. Few windows here and there could be seen lit by a fire in the room but most windows were dark, signifying that most of the city's residents lay asleep in there beds. Skjari had been tipped of Lorgar about Thalmor agent hiding as a store clerk, the agent apparently lived in a small room that he rented in a house near the outer wall. He had done a thorough search of the room and found a ring with the Thalmor sigil on along with a couple of letter roughly detailing some information about the troops stationed in the city cleverly hidden in the bottom of a chest. Skjari had then waited for the agent to come home and when he did he caught the agent rather easily with a few illusion spells and a freezing trap that froze the elf's feet to the ground. Under the questioning the elf claimed that he worked alone and that left the letters at a dead drop. After some torture the elf gave up where the dead drop was located but still claimed that had operated alone, and after further torture till the elf was so broken that he had started sucking on his thumb and speaking a baby voice, Skjari finally believed the mans words about working alone and not that he was making an attempt to cover up his colleagues. With the note with the location of the dead drop in his pocket, he made short work of the now broken elf that lied on the floor sucking on thumb, and consumed his soul as the elf took his final breath with the thumb still in the mouth. Then he cleaned up the corpse by turning into dust before leaving. Now as he made his way through the garden, which was shortcut he had taken and he was sure that he was trespassing on some nobleman's property as he had to pass through a large gate to get in, so he made sure to stick to the shadows where he was hard to spot in his black robe. He suddenly saw someone else standing a dozen feet away from him besides a couple of large bushes and surrounded by some candles, the figure was rather small and wore a finely tailored, hooded robe with the base color black and decorations in green that formed trees and other plants, though the decoration also had a pattern that gave a vague hint that there was something daedric about it. The figure, most likely a female judging by the body shape, also had a black pointy hat beside her, something that you would see in children books. She sat down on a bed of flowers, beside a pond, and in her hands were what appeared to be a frog. He could make out an arrogant, and slightly mocking voice. "Well Mister toad, why don't we do some practice now? I've drawled the incarnation circle, and all we need to do is recite the daedric text." As if to answer her, he could hear the "ribbet" of a toad or frog. The sight was so curious and quite bizarre that Skjari stopped in his tracks to watch what she was about to do. A pointy hat, a frog friend. She must be crazy. This could get interesting. The girl, started to mutter words in Daedric, and as she did, the "incarnation" circle started to glow bright fiery red. Until finally, something emerged from the circle, clad in flame. It was tall, muscular, and heavily Armored. It was a dremora, and by the girls surprised face, it isn't what she thought she was summoning, "WAIT? I didn't summon a dremora, where is the annoying scamp?! Go back to the Deadlands..." In response, the Dremora drew it's two-handed great sword, and silently advanced on the girl, who's surprised face was filling with terror. "I said go back to the Deadlands, I command you..." It laughed, and continued to the now backing away girl. "Oh shit, I think it's unbound..." What a novice. Skjari thought as he almost considered to leave her to her fate but having to clean up another corpse or facing the unrest the mutilated corpse would cause was not something he wished. He sighed and then sent a spell towards the dremora, banishing it right when the sword was a couple of inches from woman's face. The girl, face once again filled with surprise as the Dremora disappeared into purple light. She apparently recognized the spell, as she said, "Banishment..." She raised her voice slightly. "May I thank my savior properly?" Skjari took a step closer to the light so he became more visible but could still vanish in the shadows at a moments notice. "What do you mean by properly?" She turned her head towards him as she heard him speak. "Face to face." She said, playing with one of her long strands of golden hair. Skjari was curious about the crazy witch but was still suspicious. He let the dark veil on his fall but his face still mostly dark where he stood at brink of the shadows, ready to disappear in case the woman would try something, as witches could sometimes be very unpredictable. "My...my...aren't we handsome..." She cackled energetically, before removing her hood, revealing deep blue eyes, red lips, and attractive face. "I assume, you are a brother. Correct?" "Ah former brother then?" She cackled again, before picking up the frog. "Depends on what you consider 'brother'." He made a quick look at her little summoning circle. "And maybe you should practice something less dangerous?" "Ummmm yes, I think I should...." She chuckled, while rubbing the back of her head with a slight blush forming. "My mother is a master in conjuration, as is my grandmother and great grandmother. I think there slightly disappointed with my preferred choice of magic" "Conjuration is not for those that lack the will to command. And what is your preferred choice of magic?" "I like things to do with nature. Some alteration, but mostly from nature itself. I got the basics down by learning some from a non-hostile Spriggian, before I used books and my gut to teach myself the rest. "Alteration mixed with a little restoration in order to affect the living tissue? I hope you play with plants and not animals, they're less likely to try to eat you if you mess up and create an abomination." She cackled, before nodding her head. "I tried cloning a frog before, the results...weren't pretty..." "And about this coven? I haven't heard about a coven living in the city." Skjari tried to sound curious instead of like he was interrogating her, as he was still slightly in that mindset after the elf. "There isn't, not to my knowledge at least." She petted her frog buddy, before putting it on her shoulder. "My coven is located in the forest near Chorrol." He gave the surrounding garden a quick look. "Judging by your clothes and this garden; you're part nobility. Why would a noblewoman be a part of a coven?" Her smile twisted into a coy one. "The females of my family have been part of this coven for generations. So naturally, I would be a member." "Interesting family. Why only women?" "The coven is all female, so males aren't allowed to join." "So you're a bit like some temples of Dibella in that sense?" "Similar... though we don't spend all of are time screwing with each other and worshiping sex." She mischievously smiled to herself, before cackling. "Though I do have some "fond" memories with my "sisters", are coven's main function is practicing conjuration rituals, preferably when the moon is out." Sounds like a bunch of novices. "I was referring to the 'only women allowed' policy." "Ah. We of course know, it doesn't do anything to help with the spells. But the earliest members of the coven thought it did, so we kept the preference to only women. Same with doing rituals under the moonlight. It's out of tradition." She stretched out lazily before, chuckling, and bowing slightly. "Oh, mind my rude manners. In my coven, i'm known as Millinerius, sister of the Daughters of the fallen moon." "I'm the man you met in the garden." He said in a pretentiously, courtesy manner. "But now I think I'll be leaving. Unless you want me to stay, that is." He smiled small smile with the right corner of his mouth. She returned the suggestive smile, before toying with her hair with her teeth. "Would milord wish to ravage the helpless maiden, here with the flowers and frogs watching?" "Do I?" He took another step closer and was almost fully revealed in the light. "Your certainly very handsome...and muscular, and that beard of your's is very nordic..." He quickly crossed the few feet between them and put both his arms around her waist, pulling her body close to his. "You talk too much." She cackled, and brought her lips to his before saying. "Why don't you show me some of your magic, brother."

Boldir Iron-Brow Silent Moons Outpost Late morning Despite the chilly breeze, Boldir could feel sweat accumulating on his brow. His muscles were tensed up, and he could feel his heart beating heavily in his chest. Come on, I can do this. Just relax and breath. He let out a slow breath and closed his left eye, focusing hard on what was ahead of him. Finally, after what felt like forever, he was certain that he was ready. Boldir loosed the arrow from his longbow. The twins, Langley and Fiora, who had been watching from a few feet to his left, both let out obnoxiously loud laughs as the arrow flew far above and to the right of the steel helmet Boldir had been aiming for. Sad as it was, this was his closest shot so far out of five. "I think the Commander needs a little more practice Sis!" said Langley between gasps. "Yeah, maybe he should start with a bigger target. Like the ruin walls!" "Whoa now Fiora. Baby steps. He's not quite on that level yet!" That set off a whole new wave of laughter between the two, making an already frustrated Boldir even more annoyed. He threw down the wooden bow. "Bah! I had it aimed perfectly. It's the damn cheap bow's fault." "Really?" Langley picked up the bow and took a steel arrow from his own quiver. He took aim and fired, hitting the helmet straight in the eye socket, and knocking it off the wall it'd been sitting on. He turned around, grinning. "Seems fine to me." "Phhht!" Fiora accidentally spit as she started laughing again. "Alright! Alright! I get it!" Boldir snapped. "I can go to Fort Greymoor and be back with some practice swords in just a couple hours. Want to test my skill with that too? I haven't fought anyone with one of those in a good while. Should be fun." That shut the twins up. Poking fun at Boldir was entertaining, but not so much that they were willing to risk actually pissing him off. And neither of them wanted to see if their large Commander was serious about fighting them. "Now if you're done making fun of my archery skills..." "Or lack thereof." muttered Fiora. Causing Langley to have to stifle another laugh. "...I really would appreciate one of you telling me what I'm doing wrong so I can fix it." Langley shook his head, still chuckling at Fiora's comment. He walked up to Boldir and held up the bow and drew back the string, pretending like there was an imaginary arrow in it. "It'd be easier to list the few things you did right Commander. Most importantly is the way you drew. See here? My whole body moves with the string. You need to use your back. Not just your right arm." "I see." said Boldir. "That puts a lot less strain on your arm too doesn't it?" "That it does. You can't tell it so much with this dinky bow, but if you were to use a powerful one with more draw weight, you'd just about have to use your back." he eased the string back in and pointed at Boldir's feet. "And you were standing as if going into an axe fight. Don't do that. A standing archer faces sideways." Boldir changed his stance to match Langley's instructions. "Good." He handed Boldir the bow and one arrow from his quiver. "Now use your back to draw like I showed you." Langley ran over to the wall and stood the helmet back up on it, then quickly got out of Boldir's way. Boldir looked down at his feet again, making sure that they were properly aligned as Langley's had been. Then he nocked the arrow and pulled back, using his back rather than just his arm. That feels better. Easier. All right, yeah, I've got this! Boldir closed his left eye again and took aim. He released the string and let the arrow fly. The helmet was about twenty five feet away. This time, the arrow soared about three feet above it, and was lost amidst the grass of the tundra. "By Ysmir! What did I do wrong that time?!" Fiora walked up from behind and patted him on the back. "That was just bad aim." she said, grinning. "Nothing we can do to help you there. All that can fix that is practice." "I think I'll just stick to the axe." said a defeated Boldir. He'd never used a ranged weapon before, and it looked like it wasn't for him. "Fair enough." She answered. She felt a little bad for him. Boldir had seemed excited when her brother mentioned teaching him how to shoot. "So how long until the dagger is done cooling?" "Oh right!" Boldir had almost forgotten the dagger resting in the cooling oil up in the forge room. He'd spent the past two days perfecting it, and today would be the last. All that was left was smoothing, polishing, and some carve work, which he'd be spending most of the day doing. "It should be ready by now." Fiora walked with him up the ruin stairs towards the forge. She and Langley both liked watching him work the forge. It was interesting to see a skilled craftsman at work, and indeed, Boldir was a skilled smith. Morseso than he let on. She wasn't sure if he even realized it. He didn't act like he was very good. He didn't boast about it like he occasionally did about his skill with weapons during combat training. Though what Nord doesn't do that?" Langley hurried up the stairs to join them. "You know Commander, after seeing what your daughter did with that wooden sword, you giving her a real weapon is kind of scary." "How does Carlotta feel about it?" asked Fiora. "It doesn't seem like something she'd be all for." "I've talked to Carlotta, and she's fine with it." said Boldir. "It took some convincing, but she said that as long as Mila doesn't treat it like a toy, she would allow it. It's better than bringing her to a place like Riften unarmed." "That lass is growing up fast." said Langley. "I remember back when we'd get called on by Balgruuf to get her and the Battle-Born boy to stop climbing Dragonsreach. That happened more than a few times. Say, how did you and Carlotta respond when they would show up at your door with her? Never saw that myself. I bet it was funny." Fiora nudged Langley. All that had happened before Boldir had even known who Mila was. "Oh damn! I'm sorry! I'd forgotten... Gods, it feels like you've always been her father now." Boldir smiled sadly. "It's fine Langley." He was happy with his life now. Happier than he'd ever been. He'd never loved anyone like he did Carlotta, and no matter what, Mila was a daughter to him. But even though Mila called him her father, and seemed glad to do so, he knew it was only half true. He hadn't been in her life but for a few months. That's not enough time for a little girl to suddenly see someone as a parent. A guardian maybe, and a friend, but not a true father. It upset Boldir to think about, but he took consolation in the fact that he still had many good years to forge that bond. The trio entered the forge room. Boldir pulled the dagger out of the cooling oil and dried it off with a rag. Even unfinished, it was already a fine looking weapon. Most daggers are made heavier, with either the center, or one side of the blade wider to add some weight for chopping, and the other end of the blade sharper for the typical slicing and cutting. This was so that they could serve a double purpose as tools as well as weapons. This one however, was more slender, and double edged, but without the heavier center. Starting at the pommel it was only three inches wide, and it gradually became thinner up to the point. Both edges were sharp, but this dagger was made more for stabbing than it was for cutting, certainly not chopping. Boldir made it as light as he could without sacrificing stability. It was no heavier than the wooden sword Mila usually carried. "Now for the fun part." said Boldir sarcastically as he opened the nearby chest and produced a piece of what looked like rough parchment. He began polishing the dagger with it, making sure to scrub at it hard. "That didn't sound good." said Fiora. "Why is this the fun part?" Boldir didn't stop. He didn't even look up. "Because even for a small dagger like this, polishing will take at least a couple hours to do right. You two may want to go look around the ruins, try to find something to do. I'll be here for a while." He paused for a second. "Actually, go down in there and find me a chair so I can sit while I do this." *** Mila Iron-Brow Whiterun "Pssst! Mila! Up here." Mila looked up when she heard Lucia's hushed voice calling her. She spotted her orphan friend crouched up on the city wall. Mila herself was busy sweeping the area behind their house as one of the many chores she had to carry out during her punishment period. She replied in an equally hushed tone. "Not now Lucia! You're gonna get me in more trouble!" Completely ignoring her friend's wishes, Lucia climbed down from the wall and walked up to her. "Your dad's out of town and your mom's at the stand. Nobody will know. Besides, Braith told me to get you or she'd hit me." "That sounds like Braith." Mila stopped for a moment to think. She knew what this was about, she'd been avoiding it. After what had happened a few days ago, she was not looking for a chance to get in trouble again any time soon, especially with her birthday tomorrow. She and her mother didn't really do any celebrating for birthdays, and Boldir joining the family probably wasn't going to change that. But she usually did get a gift or two, and Mila didn't want to do any more to hurt her chances that. "Come on Mila. I don't want to go back to Braith without you." Mila knew that she couldn't let her friend do that. Braith was their friend, but she was also a bully, and she had no doubt that the larger girl would indeed hit Lucia if she went back alone. "Fine." she leaned the broom against the side of her house. "But let's hurry. I don't want someone to see us." "You don't have to worry about that. She and Lars are waiting back in that open area behind Lars's house down the street. There's no one back there." "Let's be quick then." Mila and Lucia hurried across the street. Mila was about to ask her friend why she'd been on the wall, but after a moment of thinking about it, she realized that it was probably just Lucia taking the fun way just for that, fun. Braith and Lars were right where Lucia had said they'd be. Lars was sitting on the edge of a low fence that had recently been put up and Braith was pacing around nearby blowing his ears off with loud complaints that he didn't seem like he could care much less about. "-and then she went and TOLD!" Braith stopped when she saw Mila and Lucia approaching. She had a big scowl across her face. "There you are!" "Uhh yeah... Here I am." said Mila as she walked up to her friend. She was a little surprised by Braith's hostility. The girl was pretty much always in a bad mood, but she wasn't usually this bad. "You told Lucia that you needed to talk to me." "Yeah I did! You told on us you snitch! Lars and I got back from that ruin and didn't get caught, but yo just HAD to blabber all about it to your parents when you got caught. Now I'm in lots of trouble too!" Mila felt bad for getting Braith in trouble. She didn't mean to. She hadn't even thought about it at the time, she'd been too shocked from what had happened to even think about the consequences for her friends. When Boldir had asked her to tell the whole story, she'd told it in full. "I'm sorry for telling on you Braith. I didn't mean to, but do you even know what hap-" "I don't care what happened after we left! And how can you tell on us without meaning to? That doesn't make sense! "I just didn't!" Mila looked at Braith pleadingly. "You've gotta believe me Braith! I didn't want to get you in trouble. Lucia had gotten grabbed by a bandit! And I stabbed him with that swo- Ummph!" Mila fell backwards onto the ground. The gut punch Braith had delivered showed how much she believed or cared about Mila's story. "Braith!" Lars and Lucia ran over to Mila to help her up. She pushed them off and stood up on her own, staring hard at the Redguard girl as she gasped for breath, trying to get her wind back. "Why did you do that Braith?!" cried Lucia. "She was telling the truth!" "Of course you'd say that!" yelled the girl, her fists still clenched. "You are on her side!" "There aren't any sides!" shouted Lars. "We're all friends!" Braith looked at Lucia and Lars, then at Mila, who was still holding her stomach and looking at her with a fierce gaze. Suddenly, Braith's own gaze turned soft, and she unballed her fists. "I'm sorry Mila... You're my friend. I shouldn't have hit you for that." Mila's face slolwly went back to normal, and as her breath returned to her, she nodded and said, "It's okay... I shouldn't have stayed. I should've come back with you." Braith walked up to Mila and awkwardly opened her arms for a hug, something she didn't often do. Mila hesitated, then joined her in the awkward hug. "So... friends again?" Mila brought her arm around Braith's head and patted her hand on the girl's head. "No." Mila yanked hard on Braith's hair, drawing a loud scream from the larger girl. "Mila!" Lucia and Lars shouted in unison. Before Braith could retaliate from the pain, Mila spun around her and jumped onto the girl's back, wrapping her legs around her and forcing her face first into the ground. She began rapidly hitting Braith on the back and sides of the head, both with her fists and the occasional smack. "Do you think I'm some kind of Imperial Milk-Drinker?!" she shrieked. Mila wasn't entirely sure what the words she used meant, or if the term even made sense given that she was an Imperial, but she'd heard both Boldir and Baldur use them before when describing cowards they'd fought. She wasn't so sure that race actually even really had anything to do with it. "I'm! Not! The others!" Mila screamed. You won't bully me and just get off with a hug! She continued to hit Braith until Lucia and Lars worked up the nerve to pull her off. Braith groaned and rolled over onto her side. When she looked up at them, Mila could see the beginnings of multiple bruises on the sides of her face, but what really caught her eyes were the watery tears that had formed up in Braith's own. The Redguard girl crying was something none of them had seen before. "You-" *sniff* "You shouldn't have done that!" "No Braith, you shouldn't have hit me! I didn't want to fight. This was your fault! If you still want to be friends, we can now." As expected, Braith didn't answer. That would be a difficult friendship to fix. Braith had always been the one in charge, and unlike the rest of them, she wasn't used to being hit like that. It may have hurt their friendship, but standing up to her felt good. Mila turned and started back to her house, ready to get back to her chores and put all this behind her for now. *** "I doubt Mila would ever actually get into a fight anyway, but still, do you think that little poker is sturdy enough?" Langley was sitting on one of the empty tables in the forge room, watching Boldir carve Nordic designs into Mila's dagger with his carving tools. Fiora was leaning on the wall beside him. "I mean, it's pretty thin. You'd think it'd break if you sat on it wrong." Boldir slowly and precisely drew his tools across the slender heated dagger. Both sides of the blade were going to have the design of a prowling fox sneaking through some tall grass. The fox was Mila's favorite animal, which Boldir always thought suited her really well. "I guess you wouldn't know a traditional carved Nordic weapon when you see one. This here dagger is made of hardened quicksilver. You see the black linings? That's ebony. I could break a steel sword in half with enough swings from this thing and you wouldn't even see a scratch on it when I'm done." Fiora eyed the axe at his side. "Like your axe? Did you make that too?" "Yes, like my axe. And yes, I made it too. Early on, the Stormcloak army was hard-pressed to make enough higher-grade equipment for the Necro-Nords, so much so that it is recycled when one of us dies rather than being buried with us as per tradition. They were more than happy to let me use my own equipment." "Well if you made your own axe, why didn't you make it look fancy like you are with Mila's dagger?" "Mila's is a gift that is tailored to her. A few months ago, I made an axe for someone that was tailored to her as well. They're beautiful weapons that suit their owners." Boldir briefly glanced down at his planer looking axe before going back to carving. "Mine suits me just fine." "Could ya make us something some time?" asked Langley, earning him an elbow from his sister. He couldn't help the stupid question. He was beyond impressed by this tiny weapon that could supposedly break his sword in half. "If you cough up a thousand or so Septims I might." answered Boldir without looking up. "I only make free stuff for family." "I don't think that my brother can afford that on the current salary." said Fiora. "Or any other that he'll ever be on for that matter." Odds are, that salary will go up soon enough. Boldir had already spoken with Vignar about raising the pay for all specialty forces in Whiterun. Scouts, bandit hunters, and the city's more experienced Stormcloak soldiers would all fall into that category. With the income that the city would soon be bringing in from the Lunar Forge, he was fairly sure that his proposal would go through. Boldir spent the next few hours carving away at the blade and it's hilt. He wouldn't be satisfied until every aspect of it was perfect. After finishing the carvings, he went back to polishing again, much to the twins' annoyance. They wondered in an out over time as he worked. They spent the time they didn't watch him practicing archery, exploring the rather small ruins, and trying in vain to find any leftover Lunar weapons that Boldir's troop might have missed. Finally, as it was starting to get late in the evening, Boldir left the forge room carrying the new dagger in a leather sheath he'd made the day before. "Langley! Fiora!" he shouted. "Get out here, we're leaving!" After several seconds, the twins clambered out the main door of the ruin, both looking anxious to get back home. "Next time you bring us, at least give us something to do." grumbled Fiora. "I only brought you because you asked to come." said Boldir as he headed for the horses. "We may be twins, but don't let my sister speak for both of us." said Langley. "I enjoyed being out here." "Well next time you can come alone." the woman muttered. Langley opened his mouth to retaliate, but was quickly silenced by Boldir. "Please, don't start one of your bouts. It'd be nice to have a peaceful ride home for once." He hopped onto his brown horse. He'd only just bought it a week ago. Boldir wasn't much of a horse person, but it did make the trips back and forth much quicker. "Now come on. I'd like to make it back in time to hide this dagger before Mila gets back in the house."

Gracchus, Catia The Laughing Fox garden Mid Morning The breeze lifted a few of the lavender petals, the fuzzy violet flowers floating over the wall, leaving nothing but their scent behind. Such was the sight in The Laughing Fox's garden, a private place tucked away behind the tavern. Not very large, it was a twelve foot square, just enough for a few flowers, such as the lavender, a small tree, a nice oak table, with matching chairs, and an outdoor couch, specifically enchanted by Gracchus himself to ensure protection against the weather. There they sat, hands clasped, watching the birds in the tree work on their nest. It's was a simple sparrow, mouth full of twigs, perched on a branch near the middle. Her white chest partner swooped down nearby, landing on the stone wall surrounding the haven. The male flew back up into the air, a fresh meal in its beak. He dropped the caterpillar in the half-finished home, allowing his mate to have the first go. Gracchus envied the sparrows, innocent as they were. They knew nothing of politics, kings and queens and empires and rebellions. The closest they would ever come to war was the occasional cat that roamed the alleyways, and even they choose not to frequent the nicer districts of the Imperial capital. If only our lives were so carefree, not having to worry about the Thalmor, magical bindings, provincial rebellion. And I could have that life, just retire and be done with it. That's what Pilus would say, after all I am about to be married, and my mother is alive, even after all these years. Gracchus turned to his wife to be, adjusting on the couch so he could face her. Catia had taken the day off, and dropped the aproned gown she wore to work the tavern in favor of a new blue dress her fiancée bought her. Instead of the usual bun, she let her hair fall down just below the shoulders, the puff of wind gently brushing it out of her face. Even now, in her early fifties, Gracchus marveled at the beauty she possessed. Not the kind High Admiral Rebec had, a rugged style Gracchus saw the moment he met her, the kind even battle couldn't contain. Nor did she possess Magdela Bathory's charm, something almost everyone noticed the first time they met her. Dales, even with her childlike innocence, had a certain grace about her, a trait which led to her ability to command attention. No, Catia's beauty was different, simple, not elegant, but there, plain as day. She didn't charm anyone, or have grace like the empress, but just seeing her made most turn their head. Back when Gracchus first met her, that brought about conflict on more than one occasion, even before they were romantically involved. So stunned was he by her, Gracchus lost the question he meant to ask, if only for a moment. He finally snapped out of the trance, still turned to better converse with her. "What do you think about me retiring?" If Catia was shocked by the question, it didn't show. She's thought about it before, and joked about it as well, so she had an answer prepared. "Well, if I actually thought you would go through with it, I'd say go ahead. But we both know that won't happen, not with a war looming over us like the White-Gold Tower." Gracchus scoffed at her insistence that her wouldn't retire, as if he was challenged by it. "Really, you don't think I would? I'm am old you know, and war is a young man's game." Catia chuckled, not so loud as to disturb the sparrows as they worked on their nest, however. "Please. I've considered asking before, but even if I did you wouldn't. And I wouldn't want you to. You need it just as much as the Empire needs you." The general hung his head momentarily, ceding defeat. "I know, but it's a nice though. You, me, just sitting out on our balcony watching the birds fly by and the clouds float high above our heads. Maybe grow some crops, raise some animals. You could start painting again if you wanted, I'm sure there would be some great views of the city." "Oh, don't worry, I'll be painting while you finish mopping the floor with those elves." Catia stopped, and they both turned to watch the sparrows again before she continued. "So, with the wedding, are you going to push back your departure time?" Gracchus nodded, rubbing the top of he hand with hi thumb. "Yeah, that's what I decided. Just a day or two, three at the most. Don't want to anger the Empress. Speaking of her, i planned on inviting her, if she has the time. Did you want to add anyone to the invitation list?" Catia pulled out said list, reading over it as she just now remembered that's what she was supposed to do. "Sorry, slipped my mind......" Her eyes scanned it quickly, being short as it was. "Well, Ena, and her husband, Relan. Plus my friend Erina Liore." "Is she the one with the furniture store?" "Yeah, I think it's called Furniture and Finery." Gracchus nodded again, remembering that's where the couch came from. "So, Tullius, Lorgar and his wife, Dales, Ena and Relan, Erina and.....oh yes my mom as well. Can't forget her. So it shouldn't be too many. Where do you want to have it?" Catia looked around, sizing up the garden. "I don't think our garden is big enough, so not here. How about....well, I can't think of anywhere. We can always decide later, we're in no rush." "I know, I know, but I like having a plan, as you very well know. I think it will fit here, with as many people as we're having. And it suits me just fine." Catia reassessed the garden, a satisfied look crossing her face, as her eyes lightened and her smile grew a little. "You're right, it'll do just fine. We can have the reception in the main room, and we already have plenty of alcohol. Looks like the Fox will be hosting its first ever wedding." "And what a wedding it will be..." Gracchus leaned over to his wife, planting a kiss on her cheek as the sparrows tweeted and chirped overhead.

Lorgar, Whiterun?, Night “HOLD, HOLD THE LINE!!!!†Said the man, mounted on a silver white stallion with a horn on its head, a unicorn. Lorgar looked around his surroundings, crumbling walls and wooden barricades filled his vision. Flags of yellow, with a horse were visible on the gate, which was on fire. Dozens of other imperial soldier’s stood behind him swords and shields drawn. The man mounted on the unicorn, shouted, while drawing his imperial gladius. He wore red/gold armor, along with a crimson cape, and had grayish hair. What the ****, Tullius? “I SAID HOLD THE LINE- Unexpectedly, and quite suddenly, the air around the assembled legionaries was suddenly heated, and red filled everyone’s vision. With a “WHOOOOSE†everyone was thrown to the ground, and the man on the unicorn, including the Unicorn, disappeared, with only a pile of ash remaining in there stead. Before the various legionaries could scream like little children, the gate was destroyed by a towering foot, crushing the archers on it along with the wooden barricades. Crossing over the ruined gate was a giant golden figure, a massive Dwemer Centurion. Its face however…was the face of a bearded Nord, an old Nord. It starred down upon the puny insect-like imperial milk-drinkers, and laughed in a robotic voice, “Destroy…Destroy…Destroy…for the sons of Skyrim…†HUH!? GALMER STONEFIST?! The soldiers bellow started to scream and yell out for mercy. “Please Galmer Lazer-Vision SPARE US!!!†they pleaded, the Centurion’s response was its eye’s turning red, before it launched another barrage of heat rays at the pathetic imperials below. Most were vaporised in an instant, just like there officer. Lorgar was gone before that could happen. He ran into the Plain district, intent on surviving the carnage. Civilians were fleeing, along with Whiterun guards and imperial legionaries. Before Lorgar could plan his next move, he heard the voice of Galmer Laser-vision, “All Rieklings charge in…†Wait, what?! ******* Rieklings… With those words, dozens of small blue-like creature’s armed with spears rushed into the city, while shouting lines like “BALLOW†and “MELAPAOSO†as they attacked civilian and soldier alike. Some of them rode boar-like creatures, which snorted and gouged any enemy in their path. Lorgar ran as fast as his legs could carry him, not wanting to be speared by them. They liked spearing things, in more way’s the average person could imagine who wasn't from Solsthsiem. With that thought, Lorgar ran even faster. As he progressed through the sky district, Lorgar began contemplating what the **** was happening, What the hell is happening? Why are the Stormcloaks attacking Whiterun when they own it, and why are there legionary’s guarding it? Why the hell was Tullius riding a unicorn? Why the **** are there Rieklings in the Stormcloak army? Why is General Stone-fist a fricken robot? WHAT THE **** IS GOING ON? As if to answer him, massive ravens started filling the sky. They croaked…but the croaking sounded like a cow mooing. They swopped down, and tore at the fleeing civilians legionaries with their razor sharp talons. As they neared him, to Lorgar’s horror, he could see their faces…they were the face of Baldur Red-snow. Before Lorgar could scream, all the ravens in union, shouted, “Lorgar watch out for the spears.†Just then Lorgar, turned to see the faces of the rieklings with their spears drawn, “ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHH†****** Lorgar suddenly awoke from his sleep, covered in a cold seat. He glanced around him, he was in his room. Beside him, sleeping like a baby, was his fiancée. She was snoring. Lorgar let out a sigh of relief, his wedding was tomorrow, but most of all, “Thank the all-maker, they didn't spear me.â€

Gracchus, Tullius The Laughing Fox Midday Gracchus sat in the study, dressed in his simple house garb, in the same spot he'd talked to the court mage earlier in the week. A map stretched over the low coffee table, held down on the corners by small books and coasters, one of which held a steaming cup of tea. In the general's hands were several small pins, some colored gold, others red, blue, brown, and green, signifying the armies of different nations. As he began to place the army pins, a rough knock reverberated from the door. "Come in," Gracchus said to the yet unknown figure. An older man stepped in, he was clad in the red and golden armor of the high-general. It was Tullius, "Gracchus, do you know what the hell is wrong with Lorgar?!" Gracchus lifted the tea from its saucer as he blew lightly to cool it off. The slow sip that accompanied it probably pissed of Tullius, but Gracchus didn't care. He set down the tea, along with the pins. "Nice to see you too, Tullius." "Yeah, yeah. You look good too . How's the Fiancee?" Gracchus smiled, a slight grin that was almost a smirk. "You seem to have finally gotten this whole small talk thing down. And she is good. She loves the house as well, and thank you for helping me get the labor sorted out." "Whatever. I was bored" He tried to shrug it off, waving his hand putting on his dickish face. "Sure. Now, about Lorgar, he was....different? First off, he showed almost no emotion, he lied, but then he finally told me he thinks the court mage has bonded his soul to Dales'." Gracchus put extra emphasis on bonded, as if he still didnt wholly believe it. "Bonded? As in magic?!" Tullius's face became dead serious. Gracchus nodded, his smile faded away. "Through some ancient Nord magic apparently. I'm not sure exactly how it works. The worst part is, Lorgar agreed to help him so as to save Dales from her father." "Ah, lesser of two evils..." "It would appear so. I-" Gracchus started to speak, but instead took another sip of tea, stroking his goatee before continuing. "I don't know what we do. What can we do, without directly opposing the Empress?" Tullius yawned before stretching out, "I think you should stay out of this matter." Gracchus leaned back in his seat, obviously weary. "It really isn't my choice anyway. With Dales sending me to Hammerfell, whatever happens here is beyond my control. The best we can hope for is he comes to his senses, or you talk him down. I have a feeling we are dealing with forces beyond our control, and I don't want to see the Empire wretched apart." Tullius simply said, "He wont." "I know. Whatever he has planned will either bring about his downfall, or fracture the Empress' advisors." Tullius chuckled a bit, Before saying, "I think it's safe to say, that things are already fracture. Dales court mage seems like a danger..." Gracchus grabbed the empty tea cup, and walked over to a desk and sat the cup and saucer there, so that when he returned to the couch he could prop his feet up on the low coffee table. "And so is Lorgar. Both, because they hate each other, are in danger of splitting the royal court in half. It's very worrisome." Tullius contained to grin, in a mockingy sort of way, "Lorgar can only do his duty, which is to the empire. His duty is the thing that keeps him going. If he see's this wizard as something that will cause harm to the empire, he wont give up." "He is relentless. I just hope it doesn't cost him his life." "Meh, we all die eventually." "His death will undoubtedly bring an end to curing Dales of her bondage. But, I suppose that may happen whether he lives or dies." Gracchus sighed, before continuing. "If another war didn't loom over us, I would just retire." "You should, while you have the chance." Tullius said, with a look of concern on his face which was uncharacteristic of him, "You have a chance to start a new life, raise a family, become a farmer." Gracchus smiled, glad that Tullius was actually concerned. "I should, but I would just come our of retirement once the next Great War started. I couldn't stay away just like you couldn't. I want to be there when we send those Altmer bastards to their graves, and I can't do that planting potatoes." "Ah, but unlike me, you haven't had the taste of being a mercenary. It gets into your blood, the feeling of you cutting down enemy combatants, and the smell of fresh corpses in the morning." He stretched out his arms, "Even better, after the glorious carnage, you get to whore around and drink all night." "You definitely have me outclassed in whoring and drinking. I guess you're right. Maybe I should retire, just settle down. I may do that, once this Hammerfell business is over with." "Consider it." And with that Tullius stretched a final time, before leaving and waving his hand behind him as he left. "Goodbye Gracchus." "I will." Gracchus stood, and grabbed the tea cup. "Goodbye, Tullius." With that the general took the cup down to the kitchen, handing it off the the Redguard Ena before going back upstairs to finish up his map.

Maggie, Jem, Samuel Imperial City early evening When Maggie arrived back at her house, she heard Jem's voice from the salon. "The ape vampire came at me and I had to use a telekinesis spell to slow him for the strike, then strengthened the spell to blast him into the tree behind him... What do you think of that, Gervy old boy? She's got a ripe imagination, dear sister." He was still laughing when Maggie threw open the salon door. She took in the sight of Jem with his foot propped up on Gervais lap, and her journals and notes spread out between his own lap and the table. Gervais was polishing the count's boot and didn't acknowledge her entry at all. "What do you think you're doing?" "Maggie, hello. I was just reading one of your yarns. This part about how you went into a jungle alone and single-handedly created an alliance with the Keerilth, that's really good. Creative, even for you." "There's nothing there you need to see," she said, keeping her seething below the surface. "Nothing you need to run back to Father about. He knows all about Gedras, and was grateful enough with the result." "Oh come on, Maggie. Don't be angry. You were going to show me these anyway, if I asked for them." "Was I." "How many times do I need to explain it? I'm the heir, not you. What's yours is mine. Anyway we always did share everything. I'm proud you used the code we worked out together, for the sensitive stuff you didn't want the Thalmor to find out about. Good bean." To his valet he added, "It was really I who worked it out. Magdela was always shit with mathematics. Weren't you, Maggie? At least you've got other talents. Though, reading your list of bed partners... I hadn't realized how many Thalmor you had to go through to get those contacts. Good thing you're infertile without magic or we'd have elven bastards running about the countryside." He glanced sidelong at her, obviously hoping for a reaction. She wasn't about to give him that. "It is a good thing, yes," she answered coolly. Jem chuckled. "Well, there's Sofia for the breeding. It wasn't I who decided which one of you would be matron and which one would be whore. You were the pretty one. Tough luck, that. Though, I do take back my offer to sample the wares. I'd forgotten how low a bid it actually takes to get hands on Maggie Bathory's famous cleavage." She knew he was trying to humiliate her, and to remind her of where the real power in the family lay. Maggie controlled her anger enough to work the scenario through logically. He wouldn't be trying so hard to rattle her if he didn't feel insecure about his position relative to hers. The interaction at the palace had obviously upset him more than she'd realized. Recognizing this, she smiled serenely and said nothing. "Janus, out. I need to talk to your sister," Samuel walked through the door to the salon, looking right at the man. He seemed less hospitable than usual, but not unfriendly. Jem was just changing position to let the valet polish the other boot. He glanced up at the information broker as he settled back again. "Samuel. I'm glad you're here. I needed to speak with you as well. Maggie, leave us." She didn't move, only glanced at Samuel. "Rose, you stay," with a dismissive hand gesture, he brushed Jem's objections to his orders. "Dog; get out. I doubt that the matters you want to concern me with are more important than the ones I concern me with. Had they been, your father would have made sure to notify me." Jem's eyes narrowed, and he gave Samuel a half-smile. "That's very cute. I am my father, as far as you're concerned. Maggie, out. Now." She did move, but only so far as to an armchair near the window. Reclining sideways in it, she regarded Jem calmly. Samuel walked over to Maggie's brother, leaning in over him and looking right into his eyes. "Had you been your father, I would have dealt with your message for me first. But tell me, is that what is going on here? Am I patiently waiting for Maggie to get out so we can get down to business?" Jem returned Samuel's stare at first, but even for one such as him, it was unnerving. Kicking at Gervais to get him out of the way, he stood and reached for his walking stick. For a moment he gripped it as if he meant to use it. Then he seemed to measure the situation again. Not concealing his anger now, Jem pointed the stick at Maggie. "This isn't over. Far from it." He flung her journal back onto the table and gave Samuel a hateful glare as he left, Gervais hurrying after him. Maggie waited, hearing Jem's stomping footsteps going up her stairs. Above them, a door slammed, shaking the window next to her. A little smile playing at her lips, she looked up at Samuel. "He's had a long day." "He always has a 'long day' when I get involved. I think it kills him that no matter how much he barks, I am the one who gets the final say," Samuel took a seat as he spoke and gestured for Maggie to move closer to him. "We need to talk about the court mage. Now, I don't want to insult your intelligence, I am going to assume you have an idea of why I am bringing him up." Maggie rolled her eyes and sat back in the chair. "You too? Yes, I'm sleeping with the court wizard. I'm a courtesan. He's a powerful man. I should think it wouldn't be necessary to explain to everyone how this works." "Something I have noticed over the years: I choose not to state the obvious out of respect for my companion's intelligence, and it always leads to people insulting my intelligence. No, Rose, it is not about you sleeping with him. I wouldn't be so obnoxious as to tell you who to spend your time with, only offer advice. It is about you spending so much time with him alone. The keyword here is alone. I assume you have some knowledge of what he has done to our dear Empress?" She sobered. "Done to her? Surely you don't mean..." Maggie recalled Dales' reluctance to marry. "He hasn't forced himself on her? She seems very free with him, and he's been nothing but gentlemanly towards me." "I see. It appears you've been held in the dark quite a bit when it comes to our friend from the North. He is not one to force women into his bed, as far as I know, any more than any man of power would under normal circumstances. That is not the issue. Dales might appear to be free, but as far as I have been able to gather, she is unable to go against his commands. In other words, Rose, he is the actual ruler of the Ruby Throne through ancient magic. I assumed he had told you a thing or two about it. I was under the impression that he was quite... taken with you." "The empress is a thrall." Maggie absorbed this, running her interactions with Dales and her teacher through her mind. "I had no idea. They even argued about how she lingered over the execution." Standing to her feet, Maggie walked a few paces, thinking. "The magic must be very subtle indeed. Do you mean to tell me that the entire 'alliance' with Skyrim is a ruse? It was engineered by Skjari?" "Maybe, but I am not sure. But that is not important right now, we have lived through worse than a puppet-Empress. So has the Empire. I am more concerned about you." "You think he might attempt the same with me?" Maggie shook her head. "I can't see what he would gain by it. As Father likes to remind me, I have no power or standing of my own. Even if Skjari could bend my will, it wouldn't benefit him at all unless he was allying himself with our Order's interests anyway." "I don't expect him to complaisant with your role, should he do so. He turned a naive girl sent to Skyrim to die into the Empress on the Ruby Throne. Turning you into someone Darius can use shouldn't be a problem once he removes your freedom to object and resist. My educated guess, in the case of him doing anything like it, would be to play a game to get at either myself or your father. If you want to spend time with him, do so. But you need to be aware of the dangers involved. He is in Cyrodiil now and having control over us would be a great help to him. I don't know him, but I wouldn't place my bets on him valuing your happiness over what he can attain from you bowing to him." Maggie considered this. "I am no innocent mortal girl, and you're wrong about him being taken with me. I don't think that's possible. There is a woman he lost, who still has a hold on him. Yet, this is something to think about. I knew all along that he was the most danger to us, and the one really ruling the empire. I simply had no idea it was in such literal fashion." She walked over to her journal and notes spread out on the table, and flipped through them thoughtfully. "I wonder how he did it. To have such persistent control of an unwilling mind, even a mortal one, must take a great deal of energy." "The Duke of Blackwood seems to have some information on that, but I've been unable to find a copy of the tome he supposedly have acquired. I suggest that you persuade him to let you read it, one way or another. But, as I said, I am not concerned with the ramifications this has for the throne; the true power of the Empire has lied in the Elder Council and the nobility, and in the Legion. It is our future I am here about; if you lose your free will, all is lost for the both of us." "I truly doubt he has any such interest, even if it were possible." She thought back to their long conversation the morning she woke him from a nightmare. His questions about her family had seemed simple curiosity. It was information he might be able to use against them someday, regardless, and she had given it up freely. The thought of him doing so made Maggie very sad, and suddenly very tired. There was no respite from the game, anywhere. She had been a fool to think there could be. Yet, it didn't really change anything. She'd always known that Skjari had the potential to be a dangerous enemy. Turning her attention to Samuel again, she said, "I will keep your warning in mind, but you should heed mine. The wizard has made it very clear that anyone or anything that would betray the sources of his power, he has destroyed. Obviously, he has succeeded. Right now we have no reason to jeopardize the alliance he's made with us. If the spymaster wants to pursue such a course, let him do it." "How many times have I mentioned that I feel I am the only one who listens to what anyone says anymore? Two? Three? I never said anything about going against the court mage, nor about jeopardizing an alliance with him. I am talking about you being careful and not letting your guard down, regardless of how much you enjoy the nights with him. If he does what I fear he might, I will lose my life, but you will lose much more than that." "Do you listen to your own words, guardian?" Maggie gave him a slight smile, accustomed by now to his impatience. "You suggested I ask the spymaster about this book he's found, which you've searched for yourself. I doubt very highly that such knowledge is contained in any normal book. Lorgar must have pried deeply to uncover this information himself. Between the two of them, they are on a path to destroy the empire." She paused again, then shook her head. "I cannot see that this changes anything for you and me. Darius has his own ways of uncovering betrayal, including..." She pointed towards the upstairs, where Jem could be heard stalking around. "And if Skjari wants to ensorcel me, he will try regardless of what I do. Haven't we got other things to be worried about? My meeting with Trym Heart-Hand is tomorrow. Do you still want me to give him 'Maurice'? The name Samuel has been getting a bit of attention this week." "You wondered about the how's of the magic involved, I directed you to a source. I never told you to do anything. But you're right, we should focus on the Hunter for now, before the Dog comes back down. Ah, the Rose, the Master, the Dog, the Breeder and the Guardian. One big, happy family. But what is there to discuss? Trym will get Maurice and likely leave you alone for a time to come. Then he'll spend a few weeks chasing a shadow that is just out of his reach, even though he believes he can still see it. Unless there was something else you wanted to bring to my attention?" "Too bad we can't give him..." She glanced towards the upstairs again, and smiled. "No, if you are sure of the plan, then I'll carry it through and we must hope he doesn't press me. I planned to have it in the shadow of the palace, hoping he'll be intimidated. Not all of the executions Amaund carried out were as pointless as killing his mage, after all. I whispered a name or two in his ear, as well, and it is known that I gave up more than one justiciar under the new regime. I'm hoping the hunter has spent enough time in the city to hear such rumors, and start to think about his own self-preservation." "The Hunter is driven by vengeance, and has acted unpredictably. And he is cunning. Death doesn't frighten him because it would only mean more resources to the Hunt, or so I would phrase an educated guess on him. Be careful to not underestimate him; I am not fully aware of all he can do. If he does press you, you need to betray that I am watching from afar and that you are risking becoming a thrall by telling him. When he sees me, that should buy you some credibility." "Zealots. If only we could rid the world of them all." Maggie sighed, and said, "Very well, guardian. I hope this works. I find that I'm not so much frightened for my own life." She turned her eyes on him. "If anything happens to you... There is something worse than being destroyed, and that would be knowing that I have no chance ever to be free of my father's control. The empress seems perfectly happy with her lot, but she's likely unaware of the puppet strings. I have to watch mine move, and even with my will intact, am powerless to stop them." "Yes, but you've been given a chance to cut them. Our dear Empress' only chance, on the other hand, lies with a brute from Solstheim who have showed an extraordinary low aptitude in the games necessary to even get near a solution. Should you fall prey to her strings, I am not sure even I could get near a solution, unless I secure the needed information from Lorgar before he is a memory." Samuel gave her a smile, one of the ones that made him seem like a very old man. "Losing one's life is the least of our worries. And we need one another. That much we have in common." "Being honest, I still have doubts. Father is good at what he does. He allows me enough freedom to want more. And putting selfish concerns aside, our Order is successful. I have to wonder if I could do half so well without him." "What made you believe that you would be chosen to lead at all? I offered you my personal network of spies and informants, not the matriarchal position of the Order itself. There are others standing ready to take over, centuries older than myself. Maybe, in another 500 years or more, you will be asked to lead, but you are still little more than a youngling in the eyes of most people. Mine included, though I mean you no ill will or condescension when I say it." "No, I didn't mean that. I mean even in my own work. My father opens doors for me, and he has protected me. Those others likely have benefited from him, too. Are they just going to accept his demise, or your replacement? It seems ill-advised, like Lorgar pursuing some collision course with Skjari even if the empire is brought to its knees because of it." "My replacement? My dear, do you think that I will be involved in that? I am one of the most powerful players in the Order, to be sure, but I've no interest in playing a part in the choice of a new top dog. That will be your job. But, there are certain risks involved with his demise, to be sure. But this isn't the Empire. Each member, at least the more powerful ones, are largely independent. Your father was a judge for settling internal conflicts and uniting us in case of a major outside threat. Your father's power doesn't come from formally being recognized as the leader, but the influence he had separate from that. I would be surprised if the people who matter would risk an internal conflict over someone who are already gone; No one would gain anything by it. Instead, most members should be more interested in filling the spot and winning favor with them. I'm sure that in your years, you've learned that we do not look to the past when we have such a long future to watch instead." "No. No, you're right," Maggie agreed. "They'll accept it, if it's fait accompli. And in the end, I think I'll have no choice. Jem almost made me think that if I cooperated a little more, my father would let me alone, but he won't. That means he'll destroy me, sooner or later. I'm more like him than he wishes to acknowledge, and seeing my dear brother again reminds me that I am the only one who could do this." She glanced uneasily at the door. Jem wasn't stomping around anymore, and could be listening. Switching to a neutral topic, she said, "About the hunter. I wanted to ask about the sunfire spells. Can they be defended against? Do they react to common wards?" "Yes, they can be blocked by wards, with the exception of the aura he surrounds himself in. And I have reason to suggest that this is his preferred way to use it. Rumored to be a skilled warrior, I believe Trym would go for a more brutal approach than casting spells. His henchmen might be more in the casting business, but I know not who they are. Trym himself will not be stopped by wards, as far as I know." "Does he use magic resist equipment? He won't get far if he tries to slice my head off, not in a public place with royal guard nearby." "Doesn't matter. I doubt he will attend the meeting alone; so I doubt you'd come from that without being revealed as a vampire. How long do you think the royal guard will be on your side, if sunfire harms you? These spells have become more famous ever since the Dawnguard re-surged. And this will attract more of them, maybe even the Dawnguard itself. Your only chance is to not get in intimate contact with it, simple as that." "Talking with the man requires me to be close to them, whether I want to be or not. He seemed tempted to do a little demonstration on me in the tavern and I fear he could try to do the same. All I need to do is defend long enough to get away. Casting a harmful spell at someone is an assault and the royal guard won't tolerate an assault on anyone, let alone a courtier. If he's aggressive towards me, he'll go to the imperial prison. Lots of people never come out of there." "And when he demonstrates to a Legion Battlemage that his spells can only harm the undead, a test that is ridiculously easy to set up, he has sealed your fate in the Imperial City and the whole of Cyrodiil. Probably beyond. You don't think that the news of the famous author, Magdela Bathory, being exposed as a vampire will travel fast? You'd be ruined. I'll say this one more time; you can not come into contact with this magic. It is not fair in any way, but it is the situation you are in and you have to accept the hard truth of it, without trying to talk around the point." "I would never let myself be captured by imperial guards, if the man managed to convince them to try. I only want to know my options, that is all. Simply telling me not to come in contact with his spells is to rely on only one strategy, one that can fail on his whim. I already said I was willing to go underground if needed, and I will, if my position in the palace is compromised. The tables can be turned on anyone, however. The instruments of empire are ours to use as well." "Don't you understand anything about Trym and his cronies, the Vigilants? If you use the Empire against them, you're living up to the typical depiction of the Order. That alone will cause more of them to investigate. If you come into contact with the spells, you can easily be exposed and even I won't have the influence to protect you if that becomes the case. This whole situation rest on his whim, which is why I am trying to give you someone he can hunt that will also take the attention away from you. You only have one strategy to rely on here. Any other approach will make it worse." Samuel looked tired as he rubbed his thumb and index finger against his eyebrows. "The tables can be turned on Trym, in the War. But this Battle cannot be won; the best you can hope is to come from it unharmed. He has every advantage he could possibly have. I plead with you; don't try anything rash. Anything. Do you understand?" She raised her eyes. "You say yourself that he's unpredictable. What is rash, to him? He thinks writing a book about a vampire means I must know who is in the Order. The man is clearly unstable. I already told you that I'll do just as you suggest. I need to know what to do if he doesn't buy it." "I don't believe that the book is the only reason he thinks you know something. In his stead, I would have gambled and tried to put you in a position where you had to reveal that you did know or that you were innocent. Alas, him being right about you knowing something and knowing sunfire magic rigged the gamble so it could only come out in his favor. He no longer needs the book, because you admitted to knowing something, when you had no options left. But what to do if he suddenly turns hostile? Assuming you're not instantly engulfed in the fire and either killed or harmed to a severe degree; you flee and go undercover. That is all you can do, and I am lying if I said I didn't assume you knew that. As to how to avoid that; you have to rely on your skill for reading people. It is your one chance." "Do you think someone gave him information about me? Someone in our Order?" "No, I think his gamble paid off and that there might be more than the book behind it, but I have nothing to indicate that any of our own have helped the Vigil. If I had anything to go by, I would have brought it up at the earliest convenience. But I've got nothing." "Sometime I would like you to tell me about this Dawnguard and their encounter with the Volkihar. You said you knew the Volkihar clan leader personally. Right now, however, I must leave you, if you have nothing else for me. My stores are low, so I must be hunter tonight. I don't wish to spend the night here anyway. It's suddenly become very crowded in this house." "I will, when we have the time. Here, take this," Samuel pulled out a bottle, at the size of your typical potion, from his jacket and held it out for her to take. "All things considered, I think it is better if you don't Hunt tonight. But I will not object to your wish to stay somewhere else. Which reminds me, your brother has a message for me I should attend to. God night, Rose. You will see me tomorrow, when the meeting has started." He got to his feet and bowed. For a moment it looked like he wanted to do something more before they parted, but instead of doing whatever it was he turned around and started to walk up the stairs. Unlike Jem, Samuel didn't make any sound as he did. Maggie took the bottle, thanking him, and watched after Samuel a while. Finally she unstopped the lid and took a long drink, closing her eyes to savor the sensation of vitality it gave her. She then considered where she might go for the night. The thought of Jem chasing her out of her own house infuriated her. At last, she went through the house to the back garden, and locked the door behind her so that Jem couldn't easily follow. If it was her last night, she wanted to spend it among her flowers, with the sound of water trickling. Maggie sat in one of the garden chairs and forced herself into a half-sleep trance. *** The other Bathory sibling had found Maggie's voluminous bathtub and was soaking in it while Gervais cleaned his fingernails. "She'll come around," Jem was saying breezily. "Always does. A little whining, a little door slamming, then she does exactly what Father tells her to. Magdela got Mother's artist temperament. Oh, I bet you didn't know old Anna fancied herself a painter once, did you? Father's got a closet of her paintings stashed somewhere. If you can call them that." "Do you always ramble like that when your pride is wounded?" Samuel said mockingly as he entered the room. On his way up the stairs it had been all to easy to hear him. "Licking your wounds by telling yourself that she will eventually follow the orders of the man who orders you around as well, to distract yourself from the fact that it isn't you anyone listens to?" Jem regarded Samuel coolly. "Do you enjoy pretending you're some kind of lord when you're no better than a lackey yourself? Now, do something better with your time and explain to me this incident at the general's funeral. Obviously you got yourself out of whatever trouble you got into, but we need to know if things here are under control. With Maggie's hysterics, it's hard to tell." I don't need to be a 'lord', little man," he just shook his head with a chuckle. "A title means nothing. Power means something. You merely borrow the power of your father; I built my own over hundreds of years. Which is why you will never be anything more than a glorified messenger and figurehead with a fancy title as long as your father is alive. And if he is gone, you will still be a glorified figurehead, because then someone else will take the reins of your life. Maybe they even agree to let me do it. Wouldn't that be fun?" Samuel rubbed the ridge of his nose. "Speaking of power; power and influence is why I knew about the arrest moments after it was planned, and why it was little more than a slight inconvenience of my time I was willing to put up with to attend the funeral. That this is even something you bring up speaks volumes; I informed you father that this was going to happen and that it was not going to be anything more than a common nuisance." "Slight inconvenience. It's not a slight inconvenience when one of our own is splashed on the Black Horse Courier for suspicion of murder or whatever it was. But if you informed Father, that's all you needed to say. No one here cares about your speeches. Well, I suppose Magdela might. You two are obviously very tight." Jem gave him a crooked smile, obviously implying something lascivious, then laid his head back on the bathtub rim and closed his eyes. "As for who's more important, blah blah, save it for her. I'm not the one who needs put in my place constantly." "Of course you're not one who has to be put in his place; you leave all the thinking to your father after all. That is why you're the Dog; obediently following your Master without question. Now, unless there was something else you wanted to talk about, I'd prefer to leave you to your fantasies. While I am usually not one to judge, fantasizing about me and your sister registers as strange even in my books." Jem freed his hand from Gervais' grasp and brushed Samuel off with it. "That's all for now." "And one more thing before I go," Samuel's face remained as it was, humored by the "little man" before him, but the intensity of his eyes said that whatever came next was dead serious. If they had been unnerving when he had been told to leave him and Maggie alone before, they would be down right petrifying now. "Tomorrow morning you are going to apologize to your sister for your behavior since you arrived in the Imperial City. There are not going to be any sarcastic comments or follow-up insults of any kind, and you are going to leave this house with a bow to her as you thank her for taking you in. Am I making myself understood?" Slowly, Jem's eyes opened and he gave Samuel a black stare. "Am I?" He appeared to consider a while before he gave a little laugh and closed his eyes again. "I was planning to leave tomorrow anyway if the little empress dawdles. Can't let her think we'll just wait around to lick her slippers. As for Maggie, she knows I was only joking. I love my sister and would never hurt her. I'll tell her that, in case you decide to convince her otherwise." Samuel didn't seem as amused. Instead of leaving he walked over to Jem as he lied with his eyes closed and leaned in beside his ear, whispering. "You may think this is a game, Jem, but if you try to challenge my direct orders one more time... I will make sure that you'll pay dearly for it." With that, Samuel left the room. Jem didn't move until Samuel was gone, then he opened his eyes. Instinctively the manservant backed off toward the far wall. "You didn't hear that," Jem told Gervais in threatening tone. Bathory stood up from the tub, water spraying everywhere. He began to furiously towel himself, wondering how he could get revenge on the information broker without his father noticing. There was no safe way. Not yet. Throwing the towel on the floor, Jem barked, "Come on, you imbecile. Dress me to go out. There are a dozen whorehouses better appointed than this rathole anyway." *** Samuel walked towards the entrance, stopping in the company of Maggie's guards. "Gentlemen, I would ask a favor of you. Magdela's brother is probably going to try to leave soon, but he has been a terrible house guest. Would you be so kind as to make sure that he does not leave this house before he has issued a proper apology to Magdela for his manners?" The guards looked at each other for a moment, before they nodded. Samuel smiled. "Thank you. I'll see if I can't sneak in a little bonus to you in your next paycheck."

Lorgar, Imperial Palace, Afternoon “A Daedic worshipping were-man that is insane!? You do know that contradicts? That would paint me as a follower of Hircine and Sheograth, and someone with knowledge of the princes would know that doesn’t make sense.†Said Lorgar, with his voice slightly raised, rumors have been flooding around about him being some sort of were-creature, which was admittedly not far from the truth. “I don’t make the rumors, just report them to you.†Samuel most likely…fuck… “In other gossip , apparently, the royal advisor, Countess Magdela of Skindard is seen in the quarters of the court mage at night.†“So what if she’s whoring around with that bastard?†Lorgar didn’t give a shit who Maggie apparently spent her night’s with, it’s just natural for the Nord to be attracted to every attractive girl in the palace, and all of the girl’s attracted to the admittedly ruggedly handsome Nord the mage is. “But sir, if she has a connection with this “Samuel…†Lorgar had refrained from telling his second in command, Commander Mario, Samuel and Maggie’s “afflictionâ€, but told him his suspicions about the imperial man, and the fact that she and him were connected in some way “…Then she’s secretly plotting my downfall along with mage and the information broker, right?†Lorgar said, in a sarcastic tone. Mario, while being an excellent officer and soldier, was extremely paranoid. But that had certain benefits, “I wouldn’t go that far sir; I’m just saying we shouldn’t place our trust in her, or that man Samuel.†Under his hood, Lorgar started to stroke his brown beard, “I of course agree, she is a politician first and foremost, and despite how nice she appears to be, she could be plotting to stab me in the back.†And she’s a who knows how old vampire that writes romance novels… Mario nodded his head in agreement, before taking out a scroll and placing it onto Lorgar’s desk, he said in the voice of professional soldier, “Sir, all of your money and assets has been transferred to the safe location as ordered, and as I predicated, palace guards under orders from the “Empress†tried to “appropriate†them for the “war effortâ€. Luckily, the bank had nothing to give to them.†Mario said, with a devious smile appearing on his lips, As I said, certain benefits… “Good…good…†Mario’s paranoia was surprisingly right and justified most of the time, which was useful to Lorgar. Lorgar placed his arms onto his desk, before taking out a pen and quill. He had much more work to finish, but expectedly, Mario remained, “Anything else commander?†“Sir, I think we need to proceed with plan B.†Lorgar sighed, he knew today was going to be about that. Noticing Lorgar’s discomfort, Mario spoke up, “Sir, I know you know it. The best outcome we can hope for is a stalemate. We can’t win this. As competent as you are, facing Samuel, the court mage/the Empress, and possibly countess Magdela is suicidal. We need to proceed with the plan you devised.†Lorgar nodded his head in agreement, “Your right. Your right…†Mario continued, “Sir, this gamble you tried to take with Samuel, most likely failed. We both know he’s most likely informed him of your plans and forged an alliance.†The timing of Lorgar suddenly getting piles and piles of non-important and mundane paper-work was too convenient; the final nail to the coffin was Witchie attempting to seize his assets and money. “Then, I hereby order you to cancel the transaction of money to Samuel’s agent. Inform her or him that my business with their master is officially over. “ “Yes sir…†Lorgar breathed in a mouthful of air, before ordering, “Then as Spymaster of the empire, and Lord-Major of the Pentuilas Occultus, I sanction Project Bloodwolf. I want you to gather a list of candidates and have it on my desk as soon as possible, and I want you to set up a meeting with the ship-building guild for tomorrow. Mario crisply saluted, before running off. Things are going to get interesting…

Brutus, Endar Kvatch Great Hall Noon Endar watched as Brutus's hands began to glow green. They had been working on the mass paralysis spell for a few hours now, but this was the first time that the Count had successfully managed to conjure up the power in his hands. Neither the Count nor the onlooking guards knew that Endar had begun secretly channeling their magicka to him, fortifying his reserves so that he'd have enough to cast such a high level spell without accidentally hurting someone in the room. If he gets good enough, it won't be necessary later on. As the spell charged, Endar's own fists clenched, and a red aurora formed around them. Four clouds appeared around Brutus, and out of them walked several short little creatures with pointed teeth and ears. Endar had always hated scamps. The disgusting little vermin from the realm of Mehrunes Dagon always filled whatever room that held them with an unpleasant odor, but they were perfect targets for training spells on. If Brutus could successfully cast this paralysis spell, the scamps, as well as the three onlooking guards would all drop like stones. Endar folded his arms, waiting to see if the Count could pull it off. One does not paralyze a target. One makes them think that they cannot move. The trick is simply to impose your will, your illusion upon the target. That isn't the problem. I can do that. The problem is doing it to multiple targets. But wait...is it really any different? Is it multiple targets? The world is but an illusion. A illusion, not many. Therefore I am not imposing my will on targets, it is simply a target like any other. So instead of focusing on the many, focus on imposing my will on the world itself! You cannot move world. I demand it be so! Brutus whose eyes were closed yet still smirking even while deep in thought held his clenched fist before him, his hands shaking from power he was not accustomed to having at once within his hands. Slowly he drew his hand back and began chanting as he did. "Not many, but one. Not many...but one. NOT many but ONE!" Finally, Brutus cast his spell to the floor, and as he did, the the scamps and guards stiffened and glowed with green auroras as they all fell face first into the floor. "Ooh, that may leave a mark, hehehehehe!" Endar didn't smile, or show any emotion at all for that matter. He just watched as the surprised men and creatures fell like rocks on the ground. He could see some blood under some of them, presumably from their noses smacking into the solid stone floor with no resistance. His own magics were more than sufficient in keeping him from even feeling the spell's effects. "Not bad. You're one of the few humans I've met who were able to cast a master level spell when not yet a master." Endar snapped his fingers, and his scamps all vanished into the same purple clouds they'd appeared in. He has an interesting way of focusing. Now to see how much he can do with low magicka. Endar summoned a dremora. Not a well dressed and silent one like his butler. This one was fully kitted out in Daedric armor, and had a nasty looking spear on his back. It stood still for a moment, looking forward into nothingness. Finally, after a moment, the Dremora seemed to grow restless. He was bound to the wizard, but he was kind of hoping that Endar had summoned him for combat. He'd been in the middle of slaughtering pathetic weaker Daedra in his lord's name until this cruel mortal had forced him into his world once again. He didn't like to be pulled out of Oblivion just to be left standing there. "What is your bidding master?" Endar didn't answer, instead, he looked at Brutus. "Frenzy this one. Make him try to attack me." Brutus scratched his chin thoughtfully as he considered the task. "Hmm, that should not be terribly hard. He is a Dremora after all." Brutus walked forward to the large Daedra that stood before him, observing him curiously. Brutus tilted his head to the side, like dogs do when perplexed. Although perplexed Brutus was not. He was just put off by the smell of sulfur. "How do you feel Dremora, being commanded by a mortal?" The Dremora looked down at the soft, pathetic weakling of a man who now spoke to him. "You dare ask me of these things mortal?! I am NOT bound to you! And so I have no reason nor need to address such a pathetic weakling! NO SIR I have no obligations to you! In FACT, if I could right now, I would COVER the floors of this room with your BL-" "Shut up and answer his questions." interrupted Endar. "Honestly. Your master commands it." The Dremora glanced at Endar with a fiery look in his eyes. "Yes master, your will is my... desire." He looked back at Brutus. The smugness of the human's face angered him, but he had no choice but to comply. "How do I feel about being commanded by a mortal? IT. IS. DEGRADING!! I am ALMKOTETH! I have spilled the blood of ALL races and pathetic weaker Daedra! I am a Valkynaz of Lord Dagon! If I were not bound by this terrible plane's laws, I would rip out both of your ENTRAILS and decorate this hall with your BONES!!! If I could, I would paint your bodies with the BLOOD of the other's, and I would display them, along with all your organs over the FURNITURE! Even the expensive things! If I could, I would-" Brutus placed his hand up, indicating that the Dremora should cease his rambling. "Hehehe, how wonderfully demented! That's enough, I get the point. I see you like monologues! As do I. You see, you are clearly a fly, thinking yourself better than mortals but the truth is I feel sorry for you. You may live forever, but you are subject to the will of your master. Mehrunes Dagon. Not just you, but all lesser daedra are even lower than the maggots of our world because your will, your mind and even your very appearance, or in other words your illusion is completely at the mercy of the fool whose forces were defeated in this very city! Yes I said fool, which is why I worship Sheogorath. He constantly reminds fools that think they are better than others that they are NOTHING! Even other Daedra Lords! You heard the story of he and Hircine's werebeast yes? In any event, to further my point, here you are, bound by a mortal. Forced to obey his every whim. If he wanted to he could have you on your knees servicing him like a common whore, only he wouldn't need to pay one Septim. Which is why even as immortals, you are lower than us. You can't summon us and lock us to your wills after all. You have no power over us. What say you to that, Daedroth?" Brutus was testing the mental strength of the Daedra and the power of the bond he was bound to, although to anyone else it may have appeared that he just simply couldn't avoid the chance to speak with a daedra. Or to just talk. Brutus had his arm folded with his other hand on his chin, smiling as he observed the Daedroth before him. Almkoteth listened to the little man before him jabber on. Everything he said made sense, and it made him angry. But it was all ridiculous. A mortal could NEVER be superior to him. Then, when Brutus mentioned his lord being weak, Almkoteth tried to interrupt, but some force from the wizard behind him prevented it. He could only stand here and listen as this mortal degraded him. "What do I say to that?! You are a brave mortal! Brave and stupid!" He turned to his master. "Please master, by the blood of all whom I've slain, I ask that you let me kill this man!" Endar simply shook his head. "CURSES! CURSES TO BOTH OF YOU!!!" The Dremora looked back at Brutus with fury in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, when suddenly he felt the familiar clouds of the void engulfing him. YEEESSSS. THANK DAGON, IT HAS EXPIRED! As the clouds cleared, Almkoteth felt the familiar heat of the Deadlands surrounding him. He opened his eyes to see a small army of weaker Daedra, like scamps and hungers, battling with his Dremora brothers. He looked up at the blood red sky of Oblivion and smiled. He charged into the fray, his hands surrounded by flames as he burned scores of the pathetic beings before him. "Hahahahahah! YEEEEEES!" He closed his eyes, reveling in the smell of carnage around him. This is what he lived for. THIS is why he existed. Suddenly, the heat and smells and sounds of battle left him. They were replaced by a chilly draft, the lingering smell of scamp piss, and an indoor silence. Almkoteth opened his eyes to see the same mortal from earlier standing before him, still looking at him with that smug mortal grin. NO NO NO!!! "I'm sorry about that." said Endar from behind. "I used a longer lasting spell this time. My apologies." He waved a hand at Almkoteth. "Same orders as before. But please talk a little more quietly this time. Brutus, same for you minus the loud talking. You haven't done much of that today. Now frenzy him." Brutus kept his smirk, indicating that the spell wearing off was his intention, or at least that's what it seemed. He rarely ever lost his natural smirk. "I purposefully waited to make my point more clear. You are at the mercy of this mortal." As soon as Brutus said this, he cast a red ball of light on the Daedra before him. Suddenly the Daedra could hear his thoughts in his head, or at least that's what the illusion made him think. Brutus tilted his head down and stared into the Dremora's eyes still smiling, but menacingly. See? You do not even have the solace of having your mind to yourself! Feel me writhing inside of you! Feel me wiggling through the rotting meat that is your mind....Do you hate me? Do you hate mortals? Do you wish to end your enslavement? Wish to prove me wrong and show you are above me? Then do it if you have the strength! Attack him! Kill the one who summoned you! Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill..... Almkoteth's vision immediately began to blur. I... I AM NOT BOUND TO THE WIZARD! I AM FREE!!! The massive Daedra turned to face Endar. "Yeeessss..." Suddenly, he drew his spear and lunged at the wizard. "I WILL DESTROY YOU!!!" Endar calmly raised his hand and sent a green bolt at the Daedra, causing him to stop in his tracks. "No you won't." Almkoteth's mind immediately eased. Why had he wanted to destroy his master? That would've broken the rules of the binding, something that Almkoteth knew was absolutely impossible to do. Endar snapped his fingers, casting the Daedra back into Oblivion. He looked at Brutus. "You already know the illusions of the world well. You worship Sheogorath? He has blessed you it seems." He motioned at the spot the Dremora had been standing in. "What you probably already know, is that even their binds to their masters is an illusion. You saw the way he turned on me when frenzied. Had I not stopped him, he'd have gladly chopped me up and gone through with his decoration plans unhindered. He is bound to me, but only in mind. As soon as you frenzied him, and took his mind from him, you temporarily pushed him through that bind." Endar grabbed his staff off the wall where it'd been resting and leaned forward on it. "Now tell me, how long has it been since you paralyzed those guards over there?" He motioned at the three guards, all of whom were still laying face down on the ground. Brutus's face lit up with delighted surprise as he clasped his face with both of his hands. "Oops! I had forgotten about them. Poor sods, I'd say it's been...around ten minutes? I'm sure the spell had worn off by now. The saps must still think they're under it's effects. I always say there's no better illusion than the ones you naturally perceive." "It would seem so." Endar walked over and poked one with the bottom of his staff. "Yep. They're alive." Endar casted a healing spell on the two with broken noses. Then he proceeded to knock each of them out with a simple strike to the noggin with his staff. Better for them to be asleep for the upcoming conversation. He walked back over to Brutus. "So you follow Sheogorath. What do you know of the Mad God?" Brutus straightened his back and placed both his hands behind them before he spoke in a student like manor. "I know enough to know that he is not a he. The Madgod is simply the personification of what is in all of us, which is why he is so powerful. Even that daedra whose sphere is not madness per say would certainly fit the bill. Even the other daedra, Azura, Boethia, Clavicus Vile, Hermaeus Mora, Hircine, Jyggalag, Molag Bal, Meridia, Malacath, Mehrunes Dagon, Namira, Nocturnal, Peryte, Sanguine, another of my favorites and Vaermina...All of them to a mortal man could be considered mad. Dead set focused on one particular set of spheres. Sheogorath is simply the most honest of the bunch. Oh and, he enjoys frantic strolls on the beach on stormy nights and he loves artisans and musicians. Ironically, he normally hates people of my station, but...I think he'd reconsider. Hehehe. At least in my case." "Hmm, interesting. Well I do believe that he has certainly taken an interest in your life. Tell me, do you dream much Brutus?" asked Endar. Brutus raised an eyebrow, curious at where this was going, but happily so. "Indeed, but that is the domain of Vaermina. Perhaps the two are in cahoots?" said Brutus to Endar. "Perhaps. Vaermina's domain is indeed that of our dreams. Nightmares in particular are to be taken as a sign of her presence. But unless she takes a specific interest, our dreams are our own. Or rather, they are influenced by our experiences and dealings. Whether this is controlled by the Dream Lord or not is a mystery, as are many things associated with her. We sometimes see things in our dreams that we have not seen or even thought of in our lives. This is the result of meddling... or perhaps a blessing." Endar pulled his journal out of his bag and opened it to a blank page. "Do you recall any such dreams?" asked Endar. Brutus closed his eyes thoughtfully, trying to recall his past visions. "...Sometimes I do, yes. It's how I got the idea that everything was connected somehow. That everything was an illusion. I get very lucid dreams sometimes where I can actually do what I want before I awake. I remember that I had those even as a child. Nothing in particular that would be of any interest to you comes to mind though. Why is it that you ask?" Brutus's smirk for once had faded. He truly had no idea where this was going, but it made for interesting conversation for sure. As Brutus had spoken, Endar carefully, yet swiftly wrote down what he said word-for-word, so that he'd have an accurate account later down the line. Most people wouldn't be able to read his handwriting, as it was often quickly scrawled, and resembled a scribble more than eligible words. "I ask for the sake of knowing. My price for helping you is a chance to learn some things myself. Your dreams are influenced by another force. If it was through dreams that your philosophies came to you, and those philosophies align to favor the Mad God, I do believe that he is that force. I asked, because I already thought I knew the answer. You just confirmed it for me. You are a favored child of Sheogorath, and that makes this conflict you are in with... What was his name? Jacob? ...that Skingrad fellow, the annoying one who ate your grapes and called my robes moldy... It makes your conflict with him much more interesting." Brutus's face flashed with a quick picture of annoyance before going back to his happy nonchalant manor. "Ah yes...Jem. I am not worried too much about him. I looked to your help because I noticed my illusion magic does not work on him and I hope for that to change, but if not I will simply cast on those around him...The people. That is how I've stayed in power for so long. But in any rate, I do enjoy the thought of bringing him down a peg in the name of Lord Sheo." Endar closed his journal, tucking it back down into one of the many pockets of his bag before closing it and slinging it back over his shoulder. "Not too worried about him eh? You should be. He is not alone after all." Endar wasn't going to go any further into detail into that. He'd let Brutus figure out Jem's secret on his own. If he would at all that is. "His mind is trained to not be effected by typical illusion magics. Not as well as you'd wish at least. You will have to work outside the box to defeat him using illusions." Endar regarded Brutus for a moment. "Fortunately, that box doesn't seem to exist for you at all... Now if you wish to use methods of Sheogorath, I can assist. I have more experience in that regard than most people, even Telvanni. I will help you, but I will not tell you what to do. You must make your plans yourself. If you need me for them to work, I may be willing to lend a hand, depending on what it is that you want." Brutus's eyes suddenly brightened when he said methods of Sheogorath. "My plan was to simply let things unfold as they will and come up with what to do as I go. This makes me unpredictable and hard to read. And perhaps, that may have just happened. Tell me Telvanni wizard. It occurs to me that your summoning techniques may give you better insight to the ways of Sheogorath...what methods do you refer to? No one is better suited for bringing someone down to size than he." Even his plans... Or lack thereof, reflect the fabled methods of the Mad God. "You already use his methods on a seemingly regular basis. You prefer to twist the mind rather than to crush it. You don't break, or even change the rules. You find unexpected ways to make things work within them. Your lord is the same way. He is entirely unpredictable. You seem to be as well. I have never been to the Shivering Isles. I'm not mad enough to get in freely or fool enough to face the Gatekeeper. But I have been to the Fringe, a smaller pocket of Sheogorath's plane that touches his greater kingdom. I have met and spoken with people of the Isles, and even maintained contact with some for a time. My third journal has quite an extensive account of the various flora and fauna, as well as records of well known events there during the last Graymarch... More on that another time I suppose. My point is, I have at my disposal, spells, tools, and knowledge of the Isles that most people don't. I'm willing to lend any if you just ask... and pay of course. Maybe you'd like to take a look at that journal?" Brutus's grin grew from ear to ear now at this point. He had a feeling that he had just struck gold. All that he had to do now was dig it up. "Let me see that journal and tell me everything on him you know. And of course you'll be paid well, courtesy of Jem, hehehe! I'll beat that imbecilic worm and show him what happens when you underestimate a madman. And Sheogorath will show the way..." Once again, Endar's fist glowed red, and in beside them appeared his Dremora butler. The creature of Oblivion silently turned away and knelt down, exposing to them the massive bag on his back. Endar reached in and shuffled through some things that were laying haphazardly throughout it. I really need to remember to have Elara organize this bag later. Maybe tonight? After a minute of searching, Endar finally found the old worn out journal. He dismissed the Dremora back to Oblivion and handed over the book. "Most of what I know of the Mad God is recorded in my notes and journals. This journal in particular has the most useful things. It's all from my time in the Fringe and my associations with the residents of the Isles. The later pages detail the creatures and plants, and the last three are a spell index. I'll want that book back, but you can hold on to it for now. Study it. You'll find much of what you want to know in there." Brutus excitedly reached for the book and began flipping through the pages feverishly. For him it was like an admirer just found the secret journal of his beloved. Brutus was determined to commit this journal to memory. After all, Shivering Isles will be his eternal resting place. He might as well learn what he can of the land now. "I'll be in this book for a while, Master Endar. Please, feel free to indulge yourself in my guests in my room. Try not to bloody them. They tend to complain if that happens." said Brutus with his eyes completely glued to the pages, wide eyed as if looking at it through a magnifying glass. "Even if there's nothing directly useful in here, surely I will gain some inspiration from the god of Madness by better understanding his creations. They are just a more direct extension of himself after all." "I'm afraid I don't have time to indulge today. I have a few studies of my own to conduct you see. Perhaps another time." Endar watched as the mad Count hungrily poured over the pages. He didn't seem to have any trouble reading them, which was a first in Endar's experiences. "I'm sure you will get plenty out of that. Come to me if you have any questions." With that, Endar started for the door. He had a lot to go over himself, much of which was a result of today's experiences. Brutus sat there reading through Endar's book all night with no sleep. Remembering every word, every detail. Much of it was very extensive notes taken by Endar, strange conversations with the citizens of the fringe. One of the things he picked up from the book was something called the fishstick. A delicate state of mind. Some records say it was an elegant dance, another said if asked if one liked fishsticks it could tell the inquisitor through it's unique magical properties if the person he or she asked was a homosexual fish depending on their answer, and another said it was simply a way to greet newcomers to the land of Shivering Isles. Brutus wasn't sure what to think. It was absolutely mad, even for him. Perfect. There were also many many pictures and sketches done by Endar himself, including pictures of Sheogorath's personal daedric assistants. The "Dark Seducers" caught his eye especially. "I need to learn how to conjure those next...hehehe!" The spells were especially interesting to read about, although most of it was well beyond his comprehension, as the details were written in a special unique way that likely only Endar could understand immediately due to the unique way he organized the steps. He had his own system of how he wrote and organized things. A system he would be only too happy to crack if only he had the time. But Brutus committed all of this to memory as well, talking to himself as he did. His head was pounding from eye strain and going over sentances and phrases over and over again. This was especially challenging when so much of what was written defied all logic of this world, most of it useless to him here but all of it fascinating. Finally Brutus was about to call it a night and get some rest, but as he got up to leave, the air from his body moving flipped a page in the journal. Brutus's extreme curiosity made it impossible for him to resist. "Just one...last...page..." Brutus obeyed his curiosity and instantly was very thankful that he did. There were two very interesting things on this journal entry and not because of anything crazy, relatively, like finding out that beard hair was an abomination and an enemy of madness, and that Sheogorath wore one simply as a battle trophy after slaying the concept of truth, but interesting because he could actually use it. "The Madgod provides." Brutus spent the rest of the night skipping, laughing and singing in celebration, and as a thanks for his good fortune, Brutus made yet another painting in the name of Sheogorath, one that would be the centerpiece for his throne and be an ultimate testament to the power of illusion.

Skjari Imperial palace Noon Skjari was standing at the enchanting table as he was putting the final touches on the new dragon statue. The dragon statue he had right now on his desk was somewhat bigger than his hand but as the crystal had grown in power and thus also in size and was now as large as his hand it had become difficult for the little dragon to hold on to it. This new dragon statue was as large as a grown mans head, if the man had a rather head that is, and would take over the duty of holding and guarding the crystal. When he was done he put the new dragon next to old one the desk and the big one attacked and grabbed old one by the neck with it's jaws and ripped the crystal from it's somewhat poor grasp. The smaller statue hissed desperately as it lost the crystal and then the was simply thrown to the side by the larger dragon, they growled at each other for couple of seconds before taking up grandeur poses and freezing back to solid stone, with their backs turned at each other. Skjari couldn't help but chuckle a little at the sight of the two dragons fighting but was suddenly interrupted by voice from his bedchambers. "What was that my lord?" Said a female voice. "Just a little magic. And shouldn't you get back to work?" He answered a casual and slightly friendly voice. "Sure, we'll get back t work." Said another woman in rather playful tone. "But we aren't quite satisfied yet and we would like..." "One more then, but after that I'm afraid I'll have to kick you out." Skjari interrupted as he walked into the bedchamber and saw the three women lying on his bed, one of them had a bracelet on her left wrist and that was as far clothing any of them had. Their real clothes was strewn out across the floor in a mess. Two of them had long hair, one had brown hair and the other's was black, both Bretons. The third was a Imperial with shoulder long black hair, but her appearance said she had some Breton blood in her. "Of course my lord." Said the woman that was lying on the foot of the bed in rather seductive way. Afterwards when the servants was getting dressed, Skjari sat at his desk, dressed only in pants, looking at the smaller dragon statue and wondered what to do with it. Destroying it felt like a waste and he had no use for so that left the option of selling or giving it away. The servants walked out bedchamber and was now going back to work, several hours late. "Raine, I need you to do a delivery for me." He said before the last woman, the Breton with black hair. "Of course my lord." She answered with more formal voice but Skjari could swear he heard a hint of a seductive tone. "I need you to deliver this statue to Magdela Bathory's house." He pointed at the smaller dragon statue. Raine frowned for a second. "As you wish my lord." Her voice seemed to make an attempt at sounding casual but couldn't help but sound a little bitter. Skjari knew that the other women he bedded were a little jealous at Maggie because he spent more time with her and less time with them, but she was a better mistress so that was simply how things were. Raine picked up the statue and walked out of the room nonchalantly and closed the door in rather hard and loud manner. Skjari leaned back in his chair and sighed, this wasn't something new to him and he remembered how it was his old days, and hopefully these women wouldn't try to kill each other. Even if it was a bit too early for him he decided it was time for a drink. He rose up and walked over to what appeared to be rather empty wall that lied to the right of the door to his bedroom and close to the window. He could feel the magic as he put his hand on the wall, shoulder high up and in the middle. A large square part of the wall dissipated into thin air and revealed the hidden storage of the previous court mage, it was filled with a large variety of alcoholic beverages. He picked out one bottle that was wrapped up in paper and had twine wrapped around the bottleneck with a small folded note attached to it. Skjari opened the note and read. "I know that you're a collector of rare beverages and I would like to thank you for all the great lessons you'd had with me and for being an amazing teacher. Your former student, Arvatus Ceno" I wonder if this fella is related to Gracchus Ceno. Maybe, but the name can just be coincidental. Skjari removed the twine with the note and all the paper and saw a bottle in the shape of a dragon, the wings and tail was wrapped around it's body that made up for the main part of the bottle and head and neck made up the bottleneck, the opening was was the glass dragon's jaw and in the jaw was a cork that was partly shaped as a flame. The label read "Divine Fire 71 of the 4th Era". Skjari couldn't believe what he had just read. Could it that simple? And why was the it still wrapped up? Had the previous court mage known what he had been given or had the mage opened the gift and then wrapped it up again? Several questions raced through his mind but suddenly came to a stop as he realized that there was only one way to find out. He pulled out the drawer containing the book and opened it a random page somewhere in the middle of the book as he put it down onto his desk. Reading the label two more time just to make sure his eyes wasn't deceiving him, he sat down in his chair carefully uncorked the bottle, as carefully as he could as the cork sat rather firm in it's place and he had forgotten about using magic in his excitement. The cork flew as it left the bottle and then landed in a corner on the other side of the room. Luckily none of the bottle's content was spilled. But the smell of the content could definitely be felt as cork was removed and Skjari could immediately see, or more like smell, why it was called Divine Fire, the smell was strong burning aroma with a hint pleasant warmth. Curiously he took a small sip that he regretted directly as he spat the content out, the liqueur was burning at the touch of the tongue. He suddenly heard a low wheezing and noticed that it came from the book he had accidentally just showered in liqueur. The liqueur didn't wet the book but was instead vaporized as it touched the pages of the book. So as he looked he didn't see wet dots covering the book instead letters and parts of letters dotting the pages. He poured more of fluid onto the book and he could see the liqueur get vaporized into thin air as the secrets of the book was being revealed. Judging from the pages he was staring at, the book seemed to be some sort of address book. Little of it made any sense to him and he started to go through the book page by page to see if there were any instructions on what all of this meant and where the key was. After several minutes of skimming thorugh the books content he found himself at last pages of the book. There he found the instructions on how to use the scrolls and what the content of the book actually meant. The very last page told about the key; it was a combination of three alteration and illusion spells that needed to be cast of the scrolls. Skjari knew the spells as they were of simple novice spells and all he needed to do was to memorize in what order he needed to cast the spells. He closed the book and put it back into the drawer before he left the room in a hurry and forgot to get properly dressed as he walked in a fast pace through the corridors and up the stairs to the top of the tower. It didn't occur to him until he was two thirds on his way to the top that was only wearing pants and he decided to keep going because it such a long way down and up again. When he finally reached the door with moth carvings he sat down to relax his legs for a couple of seconds before he banged on the door, no need for knocking as the hagraven woman probably wouldn't open in that case. What surprised him was that he didn't have to wait long enough to start banging on the door again before it opened and a lovely imperial woman that looked to be in her mid twenties, with blonde hair and slightly round face and dressed in the plain grey robe he remembered from his last visit, appeared in the doorway. She eyed him up and down for couple of seconds. "I know it's along walk up here but I don't think you don't need to shed your clothes for that." She said with a hint sarcasm in her voice. "I'm here for the moth scrolls." He said after a few seconds of not knowing on how to really respond to the woman's remark. "Well come this way then." She started to walk across the room. "And close the door behind you." Skjari stepped inside and once again saw the small trees spread throughout the room with furniture in between and the large glass walls between the pillars at the edge of the room revealing a view of almost the whole of Cyrodiil. The moths was flying through the air and sitting on the trees, Skjari could swear that a few even landed on his back. He closed the door behind him and followed the woman through the room to the old man, wearing his blindfold, that was sitting at the root of a tree, and luckily the hagraven woman was nowhere to be found. The blind man didn't seem to notice them as they approached. "Do you have the key?" The blind man said in a dreamlike voice. "Yes." Skjari answered while trying to not sound too triumphant. "Where is it then?" "It's in my mind. It's a combination of spells." "So you do have it." The man now spoke more casual and sounded slightly surprised as he rose up from the root he was sitting on. "Well then. Initiate, bring the moth scrolls." The woman ran off the the side of the room disappeared behind a tree and then reappeared with three large scrolls in her arms, the scrolls were tied together by three threads made up of red cloth decorated with golden runes. She carefully handed them over to Skjari. "Thanks." He said and then made his way towards the exit. As he reached for the handle of the door despite the large scrolls occupying both his arms, he felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned around to see who it was. It was the imperial woman again and she looked rather shy as she put both her arms behind her back. "We rarely get any visitors up here and..." She tried to sound seductive but failed miserably and sounder more shy. But before she could finish her sentence Skjari felt the palm of a hand smack against the right side of his face and when he looked for the source of the slap he saw the hagraven woman standing on his right side, looking as ugly as ever. "You will not bed my sister." She said loudly in her voice that could crack glass. They're sisters?! The don't even look like each other. He thought as he looked back and forth between the lovely woman and the hagraven in disbelief. "But sis..." the young woman tried to protest but was cut off. "Enough!" The hagraven woman almost screamed in a strict tone and she then looked back at Skjari. "Best for you that you didn't get any ideas." He chuckled a little as he looked at the hagraven. "There is something I've wanted to tell you ever since we met." He said in slightly mocking tone. "Really? What is that?" The hagraven practically spat out the words. Skjari back his upper body and then put one foot forward as he charged his head into the hagraven woman, headbutting her so hard that heard a crack coming when he felt his forehead make contact with her pointy nose. The woman fell back on the ground swearing and screaming as she covered her nose with both her hands. The young woman looked quite shocked at what she had just witnessed and didn't say a word as she simply stared at Skjari and then at her sister and then back at Skjari again. "Well that pretty much sums up all I wanted to tell her." He couldn't help but sound amused. He looked back at the woman that was now staring at him in a slight shock, she didn't seem angry or sad but more like confused at what to do about the situation. "Sorry for the inconvenience." He calmly said to her. And he then opened the door started walking down the stairs and didn't even bother to close the door behind him and he could hear the screaming and swearing from the hagraven for a good solid minute before the door was closed. And Skjari couldn't help but to smile the whole way down.

Jem, Maggie, Skjari Imperial Palace afternoon Maggie found Jem lounging in the palace foyer talking to a herald about the new empress. Jem's valet, Gervais, stood nearby staring straight ahead with those black, empty eyes she hated so much. "Ah, here's my lovely sister now," Bathory purred, standing. "Kept me waiting long enough, didn't you? Never mind, there's always something to see in the imperial palace. Lots of juicy news to be had these days." "Jem. What a surprise." Maggie dismissed the herald with a glance. He slunk off without another word. "Have to keep you on your toes." "You're here to see me?" "And to meet our new empress. I don't suppose you could arrange an introduction." "Possibly." Jem tilted his head. "Why so cool? Ah, you're upset about the publisher business. Father believes you're too distracted. That Crescius woman is a bad influence." At the burning expression in her eyes, he laughed. "Come on, Maggie, you know how it works. Play along and be a good girl. In a few years you may get another chance to pursue your little hobby. In the meantime there is serious work to be done." "My writing is serious work. It opens doors for us." He made a talking motion with his fingers. "I've heard it all before. Father's made his decision. It's for your own good, you know." As she began to walk off into the palace, Jem grabbed her arm. "Damn it, Maggie, why are you always so willful? Everything you do reflects on all of us." "Take your hands off me." Withdrawing his grasp, Jem said in an exasperated tone, "I don't understand you. You're supposed to be the sweet one, but you're such a colossal bitch. Always testing the limits. I think you just like the attention it gets you." "If you wanted to meet the empress, why didn't you come to the coronation? It reflects poorly that none of us were there except for me." Contrary to what her brother said, Maggie wanted the subject to be on anything else but her. "Had business in Skingrad and Kvatch. Just returned from there. Brutus sends his regards." At her expression of disgust, Jem laughed. "Ah, sister. You've never forgiven him for that little incident at the Zenithar summoning day party. Don't worry. He'll soon be reduced to begging at his own city's gates. Our city, that is." Maggie loosened a little at this topic. "I'm glad to hear it, though you should've let me worked the matter from here instead of confronting him directly. Insolent fool, trying to undermine Skingrad's wine festival with a merchants' fair the same week." "Gold Coast trade is picking up again. It was actually more astute than I'd have imagined for the old boy. The tradesmen have to stop somewhere along the Gold Road." She smiled a little. "I had a little prank all planned out for him after the coronation, but he returned to Kvatch before I could see it through." "Yes, well, his own citizens are playing better pranks on him than even you can devise. They'll soon be begging us to step in." Jem paused, then said, "It's good to see you smiling, Magdela. You're so beautiful when you smile. In fact, it's good to see you full stop. I missed you these past years. It was always you and me, you know. You and me against the world." Maggie was almost touched at this speech until she remembered that this was one of Jem's strategies. Her wall went back up. "I'll see about getting you that audience. Where are you staying?" "With you, of course. I already sent my things around to your house, hadn't they arrived?" Her expression hardened. "When they do arrive, I'll send them on to the Tiber Septim Hotel." "Come on, Maggie. You know that isn't safe for us. Don't be such a spoiled brat." "Then go to Sofia's! You'e only here to spy on me, we both know that." Now it was his turn to scowl. "Maybe I am, but that doesn't change the facts. The house isn't yours. Everything you have belongs to Father, and that means it belongs to me. Don't think we don't know what's going on here. Father thought Samuel could handle it, but apparently that's not true, either." Maggie blanched inwardly at this, though her expression remained unchanged. Did Darius suspect something? Jem cast a muffle spell and continued, his tone angry. "I know all about the hunter. He's asking for you, Maggie. Do you know what that means? How serious that is? Then I arrive here and hear about some incident at a military funeral that landed Samuel in prison." "Stop. Don't say another word." Maggie re-cast the muffle, a stronger one, since she had the key to the wards. "I shouldn’t have to say anything. If you weren't so reckless, you wouldn't need someone checking up on you all the time. Even so, it's just normal protocols. They're for your own good. For the good of us all." "As you keep saying. I've got matters with the hunter under control." "Do you. What are you going to do, seduce him?" When Maggie didn't reply, he laughed. "You thought about it, didn't you? Honestly, you can be such an idiot. So who are you screwing these days?" "You already know." "I heard a rumor. A Nord wizard, sister?" "He's the greatest power in this empire right now." "You just don't get it. It doesn't matter at all what goes on here in White Gold, not in the long run. Father is the greatest power in the empire. That makes me the second greatest." Jem's smile changed, and he took a step closer. "Doesn't that mean I should get a crack at you, too? Don't look at me like that, Maggie. You gave yourself to me willingly enough before." Her expression was rapidly turning from disgust to hate. "We were curious children. The fact that you don't understand the difference speaks volumes." Maggie dispelled the muffle and walked away. He called after her. "Get me in to see the empress. And that Nord mage, too." Jem heard a casual male voice behind him. "You wont see the empress. But turn around if you want to see that Nord mage." Bathory whirled around, his expression cool. "Ah. A sly one. I should have expected that." He held out his hand. "Janus Bathory, scion of Skingrad. You are?" Maggie had also turned at the sound of Skjari's voice. She waited, not intervening. It was incautious of both siblings to speak of family matters where the wizard might overhear, but she couldn't resist a little smile that he'd caught Jem off guard. Skjari simply crossed his arms at the notion of shaking his hand. "Didn't I just tell you that. Or do you see anyone else behind me?" Jem withdrew the hand, eyes flashing. "I assume you've got a name. Or do you answer to 'Nord'?" "I thought you already knew my name. It's Skjari." He then changed to slightly more mocking tone. "Do you know the name of the empress? Or do I have to tell you that as well?" "We all know the little Breton from Sutch. Well, those of us who pay attention. All knees and elbows, as I recall. I hear she's blossomed quite beautifully. Magdela must be jealous." This he had said half over his shoulder, knowing that his sister was listening. "You're a newcomer here, Skjari. Obviously you don't understand some things. I represent Skingrad when my father's not at court. That means I can demand an audience with the empress, if I so choose. Requesting one was just a courtesy." Skjari who'd had a long day couldn't help but to do a long yawn that lasted almost throughout the whole of Jem's little speech and he found the man quite annoying. "You'll have to seek an appointment like everyone else. I think she got some time to meet you next week. So unless it's urgent you'll simply have to wait." A week was far too long in Maggie's book, so she stepped forward. "I'll see if there is something we can do. My brother is right, Lord Skjari. Skingrad is accustomed to certain privileges." She turned a pointed look on Jem. "Privileges usually accompanied by greater courtesy. Moderate your tone, Janus. Lord Skjari has been an ally to us, and so has Empress Dales. You'll do well not to speak of her in such informal terms." Jem looked from one to the other, thoroughly annoyed. He'd been trained in court manners, however. "Very well," he replied stiffly. "I suppose we should be grateful that you kept Magdela on as advisor, considering her association to the late emperor." Maggie pursed her lips at this, recognizing it as a subtle attempt to undermine her, and perhaps a reminder to Skjari that she had been in Motierre's bed first. She remained silent. Skjari shrugged. "Well he's dead now. And Maggie was nice enough to help out with the Thalmor. And she and I had already met once before so she wasn't a total stranger." Jem's brow raised. "Really? Care to tell me about that?" This was directed at Maggie. "Another time," she answered with a fake smile. This made her brother visibly suspicious. He turned back to Skjari. "It's wise for a man in your position to keep powerful friends. I guess you've heard about what happened to your predecessor. The empress may be a sweet thing now, but at one time we all thought Amaund Motierre was just a harmless social climber." "I'm certain she wont turn out like her father though." "What makes you so sure?" "Call it a gut feeling. And with the relation she had with her father I would dare say that becoming like him is something she's actively trying to avoid." "There are many kinds of zealotry. Some would say her pursuit of Thalmor supporters is just like her father's only in reverse. Others say that's just what you get when you let Bretons on the throne. Elven blood taints them, that sort of thing." Jem flashed a smile. "Not me, of course." "Unless you want to go back to the time when most humans of Tamriel were slaves to the elves, I think her hunt for Thalmor supporters is a good thing. And with the empress being a Breton, she would know what the elves are capable of." "She also lost Skyrim for good. That's what some will say. Others that she brought back war where there had been peace, even if a compromised peace." Jem regarded Skjari quizzically. "You speak sensibly for a wizard. Some of those doddering fools can hardly say a thing that's not gibberish. I heard you were Synod, is that right? No one can quite remember what chapter you came from." "That's right but I barely keep in touch with them these days." Jem made a thoughtful noise. "Wizard of obscure origins near the throne, that sort of thing makes people nervous, you understand. Your qualifications are important to establish." "As I'm sure the empress is quite capable of pursuing on her own," Maggie broke in, laying a hand on her brother's arm to keep him from antagonizing the mage with such questions. "Weren't you eager to get settled at the house, brother darling? He cast her an amused smile. "Of course. I wouldn't want to keep such an important man as this for long. I'm sure you've both got things to do. Gervais, come along." The count took his walking stick from the valet and tapped it once as farewell before leaving. Maggie watched until her brother was gone, then took a deep breath as she turned back to Skjari. "I'm sorry about that." "Grik pahlok nol gein mal diil mey. Zu'u laan wah krii tol sos lun." Skjari looked down as he shook his head before looking at Maggie. "Sorry, people like him go on my nerves. At least he's gone now." "He's a pompous ass. No need to sugarcoat it, in Tamrielic or your old tongue." She smiled. "That's why I wanted to get him in to see the empress. The sooner he does, the less excuse he has to remain. Jem has his uses, but the cost for them is high. At any rate, I wanted to ask you if you've made any progress on that little project we discussed. The dreamsleeve protocols." He chuckled. "I was far from sugarcoating it." His face got a thoughtful expression as he stroked his beard. "And I'm stuck concerning the moth scrolls. Though don't worry, I think I will make progress soon enough." "Can I help in some way? I would like to do so, if I can. Some of those agents were contacts of mine when I was in Valenwood and Alinor. I'm curious as to their fates." "What do you know about divine fire?" "Divine fire?" Maggie thought a moment. "Various spirits are known to use ethereal flames, even to be made of them. The daedra would not be referred to as divine except by one of their own, however. Almalexia was thought to be a goddess in Morrowind, and is said to have taken the fire from Numidium. A Dunmer spell of some sort? Sunlight is also divine fire, if you believe the stories about its origins as the god Magnus." Something occurred to her, which seemed unlikely, but she added, "The Dawnguard are said to have concentrated sunfire into a spell that affects the undead. Don't ask me to perform that one." Her lip curled in an ironic smile. "Already tried that sunfire spell. And the last court mage wasn't a Dunmer so I highly doubt it's anything from Morrowind. Anyway I'm sure I'll find the answer soon enough." He smiled a small devious smile. "With your brother living in your house I guess you would rather stay in the palace?" "You overheard that, I see. I've been staying mostly in the palace lately anyway. I do need to go home now, however. I keep the door of my room sealed by magic, but Jem will get through that soon enough, and there are things I'd rather keep private from him if I can." She thought of the reason why she had been keeping to the palace. Her meeting with the hunter was the following day. That meant she also needed to feed that night, to make sure she was as strong as possible the following day. Maggie pondered telling the mage about her problem. He might be willing to observe the meeting, for instance, and could intervene if it went badly. After a moment's pondering, she decided against it. She would have royal guard nearby in case the hunter tried to muscle her away. If matters got to sunfire with Trym Heart-Hand, however, her time at the palace was over anyway. Understanding Skjari's suggestive smile, she said, "I have other things I must do outside the palace tonight. Tomorrow night, however..." She moved to leave, but stopped with her hip brushing against his side. "You might consider starlight, my lord." Laughing, Maggie explained, "I don't mean for tomorrow night. I mean for your divine fire. The Ayleids considered it holy. Their wells still contain star metal and give off a greenish glow. They are also said to have used star glass in their lamps. I could take you to a ruin near the city where we might find some, if you wish to test it." Her finger moved along Skjari's sleeve, playing with the fabric. "Clearing ruins is a specialty of yours and mine." "Weren't you also supposed to show me these magic stones as well? You said that you really wanted to show me the Lover's Stone," he said as he moved his hand suggestively along her waist. "That I do. In the Nibenay. It's lovely country, but a good ways from the city. Do you like to ride?" She smiled, enjoying the little game of innuendo. "My horse is quite fast and I can make do with a ride." His smile got a little bit wider and his hand moved slightly downwards. "And you don't have to leave just yet, right?" Laughing, she replied, "There is something to be said for a fast mount." Maggie pulled him toward a side alcove. There she cast a cloak spell and kicked off her shoes while she waited for Skjari to likewise cast. A passer-by might get an earful, but unless they were very talented mages themselves, would not be able to see where it was coming from. If a peeping tom were so talented, he would deserve the show. Her worry about the threats closing in on her abated, though in the back of her mind Maggie felt that time was waning for her like sand moving through an hourglass. For the moment, it was still hers. The only thing that was really hers.