TheCzarsHussar

Gracchus Ceno Northwest of the Imperial City Late Afternoon Gracchus, seated on Lil Ceno, rode across the field, the flowers brushing by his boots as they hung in the stirrups. Catia rode next to him, on a smaller brown mare that Gracchus noticed was always hanging around Lil Ceno. He discovered they'd taken a liking to each other, so he bought her and gave her as a gift to Catia. She loved her, and named her Lady. Together, Gracchus and Catia rode northwest of the Chestnut Handy Stables, out to an area that had a few cranes and scaffolds set up. As they neared Catia looked up quizzically at the structures. "What is that?" Gracchus stopped and turned to her, reaching out to grab her hand as he said, "It's a surprise, now come on!" Like kids, they raced to the construction site, the big warhorse narrowly losing out to the quick and speedy mare. Catia dismounted, walking around the site. "Okay, so what is this?" Gracchus came up behind her, taking her hand and leading her around. "It our new house. I had it commissioned after the coronation, on the land the Empress have me." The couple walked around, looking over the workers as they finished up the days work. All that was built of the house was the stone foundation, and the wooden framework. Gracchus led Catia onto the foundation, as he dropped her hand so he could spread out a set of plans on a saw horse. "This will be the entrance way, followed by a large open living area, with the dining room behind it. Then the kitchen will be here to the left, while the library will be to the right. Up stairs are where the bedrooms are. So what do you think?" Catia watched Gracchus explain the layout, looking like a child given their first wooden sword. She loved it when he got like this, so excited. She truly loved him, he was her best friend and closest companion, and seeing him happy filled her with joy. "Sounds great honey. This is the best surprise ever." Catia leaned over, wrapping the general in a hug that lasted for what seemed like days. When they finally separated, Gracchus pulled out of his pocket the ring from the Argonian jewelers, it gold glinting in the sunlight and the emerald casting a greenish hue on his hand. Without saying a single word, Catia grabbed the ring and slid it on her finger, tears dropping onto the building plans, causing the paper to shrivel up and wrinkle. Gracchus grabbed her in another long embrace, his arms softly wrapping around her as tears fell on his shoulder. Outside the house, the horses chased each other through the flowers, but neither Catia nod Gracchus noticed, both lost in moment. Catia finally pulled away, looking Gracchus in the eyes, which matched the emerald in the deepness of the green. "Yes. I'll marry you. I love you more than you can imagine." Catia's voice was joyous, and the tears that'd stopped moments before came fishing back out again. Gracchus grabbed her hand, stroking the ring with his finger. "I know. I love you too, ever since I first laid eyes on you." He laughed, still holding her hands. "I know how cliche that sounds, but I did. I just never knew this is what I wanted. It's time for me to settle down, and I couldn't have picked a better person to do it with." Gracchus dropped his gaze momentarily, causing Catia to plant her hand on his cheek. "What's wrong?" "I have sole news you probably won't like, though. The Empress wants me to go to Hammerfell, solidly some sort of an alliance between us. I told her I would leave in two weeks, but now that this has happened, I'll push it back. Now, what kind of wedding do you want?" Catia nodded as he spoke. "No, I understand. I wouldn't want you to miss this because of me. And a simple wedding will do. Nothing too fancy. I just want us to be together." "Thank you. And don't worry, I already have my mother working on some stuff. She's been getting better since I've arrived, and has been able to leave the tavern at times. Not without supervision of course." "Thank you again. I'm beyond happy. Now lets go home, I think it's time you get a surprise as well." With a wink, Catia ran back to her horse, Gracchus in close pursuit. I hope you can see this Pilus, wherever you are. I've kept my promise, and I couldn't be happier. Thank you, for everything. Thank you... Gracchus hopped on Lil Ceno, pulling on the reins and chasing after his soon to be wife, unable to contain his excitement at their marriage, and the reward waiting back home.

Eduard Laenius, Levik Long-Swing- Candlehearth Hall, Windhelm, Early Evening Eduard walked into Candlehearth Hall, seeing the innkeeper up on the left. He ignored her, other than a quick greeting. He will most likely be upstairs. Once he was on the second floor, the real scouting began. He eliminated groups of people sitting together, along with those sitting in the middle of the room. Finally, it looked like he spotted a potential candidate. A man sitting alone near the corner of the room. He was an older Nord wearing a fine set of noble clothes. He was bald and was sporting a trimmed black beard. Time to test the water. He walked up to the man, and sat down. "I'm looking for someone. Maybe you could help?" The older looking man blinked a couple times before looking up. He looked like he'd been very deep in thought before the interruption, and hadn't even noticed Eduard's presence until he'd spoken. The man looked at Eduard for a moment, seemingly studying him. "I'm sorry." His accent wasn't any kind of Nordic. It sounded like he was from eastern Cyrodil. "I'm not from around here. Perhaps you should ask someone else." Eduard was reassured by the accent that he had found his man. He began to speak, in more of a hushed tone. "Actually, I think I'm asking the right person. What's your name?" The man looked up at Eduard. He had one eyebrow raised. "My name's Levik. Are you the-" He suddenly stopped himself, as if realizing the danger of what he was about to ask. After glancing around, he went on in a more hushed tone. "Who wants to know?" Eduard had to think of a way to word what he was about to say. Didn't want to have anyone listening in on him. "My... mother. So yes Levik, I believe I am who you think I am." "Good. Good." said Levik, satisfied by the answer. "Please, take a seat." he motioned for a nearby chair. Eduard complied, and took a seat. He was glad that he was able to find his man so quickly. "So, now that introductions are out of the way, why don't we get right down to business. What is it that you need, Levik?" The old man folded his arms. "You know what I need. I need someone dead, and I am willing to pay good money to make that happen. There is a Redguard in the Imperial City named Kaye. Though most people call him The Eastern Blade. Are you familiar with the title?" The Eastern Blade? I think I've heard of that. "I was aware of that. I simply meant who. Anyways, yes I believe I've heard of the title. Arena Grand Champion, right?" "You are correct. Not only is he the Grand Champion, but he also killed the previous one, and has slain thirteen champion challengers. Kaye is one of the most skilled swordsmen in Cyrodil, so I wouldn't reccommend fighting him up front.". Levik paused. He looked like he was just remembering something. "You're probably thinking right now about how the Brotherhood doesn't operate outside of Skyrim aren't you? Trust me. I will make it more than worth your while. After all, in the end, it's all about the money right?" I'm well aware of how dangerous he is. "Exactly. The money is the important part. As long as the pay is good, I'm willing to travel pretty much anywhere." Levik leaned forward in his chair. "And kill anyone apparently. Now listen closely, because this next part is important... I am paying you well for the kill, but there is a bonus in it for you, and a good one at that, if you do the job correctly. I want you to kill Kaye, but I want everyone to think that it was done by someone else. Specifically, it has to be the current Champion. He is a yellow team Altmer whose name I do not know. The man is jealous of Kaye's skill, and is next in line for Grand Champion if he dies. You need to make it look like the Champion killed Kaye in the only way that he could ever hope to: outside the arena, but he failed to effectively cover it up." Really? That's an interesting request. He wants someone framed for it. Kind of makes me wonder what his real intentions are. "Fair enough. Frame him, and I get paid more." That's certainly going to make things interesting. "Yes. You'll get paid more in coin as well as a little something else. But it's important that you don't screw up. There will be no need to return to me here when you are done. I ought to be back in Cyrodil by then. I'll be in the noble section of the arena stands watching the afternoon fights every Loredas. You can find me there for your payment." A little something else? Interesting. "Well then, I guess I'll see you at the Arena then, right? Unless of course you have anything else you want to tell me about." Levik smiled for the first time since Eduard had entered the building. It wasn't a warm smile, or even a truly happy one. It just looked cold, like the old man was willing to do the deed himself if only he were able. "No, no there's nothing else. Good luck to you, assassin. I will see you at the Arena." "Have a good trip back to Cyrodiil, Levik. As you know, I've got some work to do. I'll be seeing you." Grand Champion as my first contract? Of course that happens to me. Should be quite a bit of fun. If only Jon knew. The old man only grunted in reply as Eduard headed out the building.

Baldur, Mazoga Afternoon Reach Baldur was in the woods with the men who at this point were still watching the girl, who was just standing around waiting for some reason. She had been in that same spot waiting for a few hours now. Baldur had one of the soldiers find him a piece of wood big enough to carve out a rough flat Morris board to play with Mazoga while they waited, using rocks for the pieces. They sat criss crossed with the board on their laps as they played. "Ever played this game before Mazoga? I figure sailors have a lot of spare time on their hands for this sort of thing." "We've got a board on the ship. Had a board on the ship. I'll never get used to the ship being gone. I bet Cap says stuff like that all the time, too. Anyway, we stick pine gum on the pieces so they won't pitch off when the ship rolls and you can't move pieces on the sly. Sailors, always cheaters." Mazoga had a sly little grin. "Damn, I'll keep that in mind when we get on the ship. That's how I always win, heh. Don't tell Rebec that though. The way I see it, a board game's no different from a battle. No such thing as cheating in war. In war the cheater is the smart one. The smart one isn't the one feeding the crows." Baldur kept one eye on the board and one on the girl, making sure she didn't run off without him being able to see, which was easy to do where they were. Baldur made another move still watching the girl, wondering how much longer they'd need to wait, and if they were just wasting their time. "I've got you now, Mazoga. Lets make this interesting. Five hundred gold for the winner, deal?" "Five hundred?! How well do you think Cap pays us?" Mazoga pulled on her tusk thoughtfully. "No deal, boss. I'm saving up for a ship of my own someday. Five septims and a friendly handshake." She was already plotting how to get her piece out of trouble. Baldur smirked a little when he realized his mistake. Baldur picked up black spiky caterpillar that crawled on the board, which he held on his finger as he spoke. "Sorry, I forgot everyone doesn't get my pay. It's not fantastic, but it's more than my men. That on top of the fact that I travel and never had to buy a house or anything means I have a good bit saved up. You say you're saving up for a ship. I guess Rebec never told you..." Mazoga's brow was furrowed in thought. Even more furrowed than its usual state, that is. "She doesn't have to tell me. I know she can't keep to our agreement. All that kind of went overboard with the war and losing the ship. That's why I'm going to buy my own. Cap's done enough for me." Glancing at Baldur, she saw his puzzled expression and said, "What, you were talking about something else? Cap's family, they have a kind of tradition. If someone stays on as first mate for ten years, they'll go in half on a new ship for them, in return you agree not to steal their contracts and you pay five years of a small commission on whatever you earn. It's worked real good for them. Builds loyalty, trains good sailors. I've almost served my ten years but I know Cap can't pay. I stayed anyway, because I want to sail for her." Baldur looked down at the board and realized in his distraction that he made a stupid move that would allow Mazoga to steadily take his pieces. The rocks were mud covered to differentiate between hers and his. He already had three of hers, but she'd soon catch up at this rate. But Baldur had an idea. "Silly orc, no. We have plans on making a town based around a naval port for the Stormcloak army. When we do, she's going to do whatever it is her family does from the port and turn the ship over to you. It's going to be the best ship we have in the Stormcloak navy. And your loyalty will have made it yours. No gold required." Mazoga's face lit up as she saw her opportunity on the board, but then she had to stare at Baldur. "What, just like that? Turn the ship over to me and she's not going to sail anymore?" The orc thought about that a minute, then laughed, shaking her head. "General, you sure did turn her head. I half think you're lying just to throw me off my game... " She struck a blow on his game pieces, then sat back, grinning. "Don't try to cheat a cheat." "Damn!" Baldur's plan was to dazzle her with the news and move the pieces while she was distracted, which almost worked...but the news was too good to be true, even though it was. "Ok, you got me, but she really is turning over the ship. I couldn't believe it when she said so myself. You'll be Captain Mazoga of the Black Wisp. Or Black Harpy, or whatever she decides to name it." "You pulling my tusk? By Stendarr. I've been waiting a long time to hear those words." Mazoga looked about ready to cry. Meanwhile her hand was slyly moving one of Baldur's pieces into better dying position. Baldur couldn't believe his eyes. A teary eyed orc was the last thing he ever thought he'd see. "Aww Mazoga, I can't wait to tell Rebec how...how...you moved my pieces didn't you you sly bastard! Oho, that's good! That's good, flipping the script on me like that. Know what, here's your five gold. There's no Sovngarde at the end of this battle." Baldur took out five gold pieces from his coin pouch and dropped it on the board. Standing up from the board, Baldur looked back at the girl who he never kept his eyes off of completely, thinking it was just about time to move on, or bring the girl in for questioning. Just when he was about to mention it, a group of another twenty or so men came up out of the woods and surrounded the girl. It was Forsworn just as Baldur thought. Baldur couldn't tell completely, but he could swear that the one talking to her who seemed like the leader looked damned familiar. Mazoga laughed, but as the Forsworn started appearing, she was all business again. So was her crossbow, which was loaded and ready. "Is that...?" She pointed at the male leader, who looked very much like a man she'd dropped with a shot to the head. "No, that...that can't be right? I saw the bolt stick through his face. Looks pretty damn good looking for a dead man. Alright, they're moving out. Mazoga, you take five men and ambush them from the front. When you do, I'll take my team and attack from the back. You got it?" "On it. Don't be late." Mazoga picked some light and fast fighters and hurried ahead of them to make it out in front of the Forsworn. They had to be quiet, as well, but as they were almost ahead of the prey and about to swoop down into the valley in front of them, their passing sent some rocks tumbling onto the Forsworn's heads, alerting them to the ambush. They started yelling and lost all order, some turning to run back the way they came, and some trying to climb up on the rocks to meet the Stormcloaks. Mazoga cursed and put a bolt in the eye of the boldest climber. "Attack!" she yelled at the other Stormcloaks. Baldur's group would be the front lines now, but she wasn't going to let them fight unsupported. Baldur cursed when the Forsworn started to attack. They lost the element of surprise, but not their position, which was advantageous. Mazoga had higher ground to pick off targets and the Forsworn were in disarray, unorganized. Baldur's men put shields up and walked in a line towards their attackers, who had no shields of their own. Five were in the back shooting arrows at them while another seven charged. Baldur hadn't brought his shield, so he had to use the men as cover. "Charge through!" The five men ran forward with their shields raised and attempted to cut and run through the group to get to the archers. The ones that went around the wall were taken care of by Baldur. Two of them tried to flank them and Baldur easily sliced open one's belly through his furs, and the other was none other than the same leader from when they first entered the Reach. Baldur's axes collided with the man's dual steel swords and the two stared eachother down trying to get the upper hand in this death lock. "I see you upgraded from twigs and bone. How the hell are you alive?" "I am Briarheart. The Matron provides!" Baldur was confused by the man's crazy talk but paid him no mind. The man was a lot faster and stronger than what he appeared to be. Baldur swiped horizontally at his face, but the Briarheart ducked under and did the same thing. Baldur parried with his right axe then followed up with a swipe from his left that almost hit him, but only managed to cut the furs he was wearing. Baldur was shocked at what it revealed. In the cavity of his chest was exposed broken ribs with a strange yellow orange shiny thing like a pinecone where his heart should be. That how he's still breathing? Baldur let himself get distracted, which the Briarheart took full advantage of and did a powerful spinning attack that knocked both of Baldur's axes out of his hands. Baldur cursed and tried booting the man down, but he backed up, then ran forward with a downwards swipe. Baldur blocked the incoming attack with his metal gauntlets and sent a furious kick to the Briarheart's gut. Baldur's spiked shin guard on his boot left bleeding holes in his belly, but the Briarheart kept fighting like nothing was amiss. Baldur continued parrying his blows, letting the loss of blood and fatigue do its work before Baldur saw his opening. Baldur purposefully left his guard down so that the Briarheart would attempt to cut off his head. When he did Baldur ducked and sent his hand straight to the bullseye glowing in the man's chest. "Do me a favor and stay dead this time." With that, Baldur yanked the object as hard as he could from his chest. The Briarheart fell to his death instantly. Baldur slipped the object in his pouch before he charged back in to help the others. Baldur looked up to Mazoga who was firing off bolts when suddenly something literally from his nightmares made him freeze. "Mazoga! Behind you!" Mazoga heard the wheezing as Baldur yelled, and when she turned, the hagraven was already pointing a crooked stick at her. Its end was glowing. The orc had just enough time to dive out of the way of the fireball. Rolling, she fired the crossbow while still on the ground. The hag shrieked as a bolt caught her in the arm and she was forced to drop her staff. Enraged, the hag scurried towards Mazoga and fell on her before the sailor could get another bolt loaded. There ensued a rolling, shrieking, clawing fight that ended up with the hagraven pinned under Mazoga with one arm bent back. The hag shrieked again as her arm snapped. She wasn't done fighting, however, and as soon as Mazoga released her to reach for her sword, the creature got up and reached claws out to swipe her in the face. Mazoga ignored the pain as claws pulled skin off her face, and with a bellowing war cry brought the orcish sword around and took the hagraven's head off its bony shoulders. Baldur was running up to give Mazoga a hand when the stray fireball that missed her came hurtling in his direction. The blast missed as he jumped to the side of it and it hit a tree. The tree immediately was knocked over being rotted and dead and the fire started spreading to the other trees. Baldur saw his men cleaning up the remnants of the Forsworn, ignoring the fire.The girl was on the ground crawling backwards from the scene and getting up to run away. Baldur finally made it up to Mazoga and the hagraven, then he offered his hand to get her up. "You alright Mazoga? That thing...ugh, I hate those ******* things! I think these Forsworn make them, maybe even revere or worship them or something." "Never seen one that close before, I..." As Mazoga was talking, she felt a tickle in her mouth and pulled out a feather. There were feathers stuck in her hair and leathers, too, which she batted at like insects. "Agh! Disgusting. And they say orcs are ugly." Despite the dead bodies, the blood, the hagraven and the fire gathering behind them, Baldur couldn't help but laugh. Not much beat the sight of feathers stuck in an orc's mouth. Not much at all. "Pfff, hahahaha! Oh, oh that's funny! Oh, this has to beat whatever Rebec is doing right now. Hey look, I got her a battle trophy. I think it's what was used to keep the Forsworn leader alive. He said the "matron" provides. I think that's her. If she's a leader of some sort it could explain why the Forsworn had the balls to try a hit and run on Markarth. Here. What do you think?" Mazoga took the briarheart and turned it over, inspecting it. "A magic pinecone was keeping him alive? Horker shit. You're telling stories now, boss." She was about to go on, but glanced around at the burning brush. "Hey, uh, we might want to get back towards the river." "Huh?" Baldur took a look back to the growing fire behind them. His men were already making their way out, but they were watching him and Mazoga waiting for them to move their asses. "Oh, right. Well, lets get a move on. I'll tell you about what happened with the zombie man on our way back to Markarth. Think Rebec will like it?" "I think she'll like that you're in one piece and won't notice much after that." Mazoga makes a mooning face complete with kissy noises, then picks up her crossbow, chuckling, and walks off toward the Stormcloaks. Baldur started tossing the Briarheart in the air and catching it while chuckling at Mazoga's childish antics. "Yea, laugh it up, Mazoga. We'll see whose laughing when I get that story about those feathers in your mouth. You still got one on your shoulder by the way. Lets wash up in that stream before we head on back. Wonder what they did to Rebec while we were gone. I swear if they tried changing her to a Dibella priestess, I'm gonna pluck their feathers....Can't wait to give this thing to her. You want a good laugh? Wait til you hear what I say to her when I give this cone to her. I bet you the five gold I lost that it'll make her blush redder than the Empress's undergarments. Wanna take that bet?" "You make the captain blush? You're on. Ten septims." "Challenge...accepted!" ***** "Okay Rebec, almost done with your feet. Shila, you got the make-up?" said Ysana. "Yep, all done." "Hows the hair? I was going to put it in a style but I think her natural long wavy hair will be best left out. What do you think Hulga?" "I agree. Married women usually have the hair wound up to keep from instilling lust. But lust is the goal. She's all set for the final step." "Good. You can stand up now, Rebec. We should hurry before Baldur gets back." Rebec hadn't minded much after the bone-cracking and skin-hacking stopped. In fact, she'd gone into a blissful half-sleep while the Dibellans fussed over her hair and face, dreaming about playing horseshoes in her father's yard and going sailing with Baldur and not worrying about wars or having to heel to Erikur's call. "I feel fine," she said, surprised. "Better than fine. Like a new woman. But Baldur sees me in these robes and he's going to get really worried." She wasn't looking forward to getting back into her dirty old leathers, but there was nothing for that. "What do you think the final phase is? Girls, get her my wedding gift." When Ysana gave the order, Shila and Hulga went to the packs and pulled out a rather elegantly designed red dress with gold lining and decorations, as well as a golden veil like fabric that went around the hand area. The dress was something fit for a princess. "What do you think? Normally we only rent these out, but for my son's wife, I'll make an exception." Rebec gaped at the dress. "You want me to wear that?" She hadn't ever had such a thing on in her life. Suddenly realizing she was being rude, she said, "Uh, I mean, thank you, Ysana. I'm surprised, that's all. I thought about buying something like this. I even walked around this shop in Solitude with a couple of snooty elves making comments. But it didn't seem right. That's not me." Despite her reluctance, Rebec was of two minds. She could never have bought such a dress for herself, but seeing it, she really, really wanted to at least try it on. Then again she was afraid that she'd look so ridiculous in it, not only the women would laugh but Baldur would, too. Normally she wouldn't mind being a joke, but what Baldur had said about her being like a man still stung a little. "Rebec, we can do this the easy way...or...." Ysana pointed to Hulga who began cracking her knuckles with a smile on her face. "we can do it the hard way. Hulga's dealt with warriors before who didn't think something was "them". Until they put it on anyway. Here." Ysana pulled out an ornamented circular silver mirror from her pack and handed it to Rebec for her to see herself. "Still think it isn't you?" "Back off, you hulking lunk," Rebec said to Hulga, laughing. Her laughter disappeared when they put her in front of a mirror. What she saw did look like a different person. A really beautiful lady like something out of a story. In amazement she touched a curlycue hair at the side of her face. It glistened as it bounced. Her lips weren't dark red like the redguard had made them, but a natural color that was more like her own skin, and they had only put little smudgy eye makeup rather than the thick kohl. It didn't seem like much to make such a difference, but the proof was in the mirror. "Well stick a tail on me and call me a Khajiit," she said, taking the dress. Without any further ado and not even minding that a bunch of Dibellans were watching her, Rebec stripped down and started putting the dress on. She needed help for that and got scolded for messing up her hair, but when they had put her all back together again, Rebec stood and stared at herself for a long time, turning to see the back side, and playing with the little ribbons. Finally she turned to look at Ysana, and gave her a big, genuine smile. "You're alright, Ma." Ysana got a little misty as did some of the Dibellans. A few of them tried to move in for a group hug, but Ysana put her hands up telling them to freeze. "Not so fast, no one's laying a finger on my daughter in law and messing up her hair and dress!" "Until Baldur gets his hands on her anyway." One of the Dibellans made the comment under her breath which caused an eruption of laughter from Ysana and the other girls. "Okay, put these gold colored sandals on and lets get moving to the temple before Baldur gets back! We have a room that you two can stay in for the night. The only non stone bed in all of Markarth lies there. Ready to make Baldur step on his tongue?" "You lot won't be watching through a peephole or anything, will you?" Rebec's suspicions about priestesses weren't totally alleviated, though the day had been a revelation. She came along meekly, at any rate, and enjoyed the stares of the men out on the street a lot more this time. ***** It was starting to get dark by the time Mazoga and Baldur made it into the city. They made a short pit stop at the Stormcloak camp to have lunch which sidetracked him longer than he wanted when the commanding officer there wanted to talk with Ulfric's favorite general. When they got in, Baldur was feeling tired and wanted more than anything to simply be with his wife. "Mazoga, you coming up with me to the temple? Still got that bet remember?" The last place Mazoga wanted to go was a temple, but she couldn't miss out on seeing Rebec blush or at least to see Baldur try to make her. "It's your ten septims," she said, resigned to the long climb. *** Rebec was waiting nervously in the prepared room. To pass the time, Ysana had let her pick out a few other garments out of a special closet. These had to go under the dress, which caused a lot of general giggling and even catcalls from the priestesses. Then the Dibellans went about their own business, leaving her alone in the room. She'd eaten about all the grapes on the fancy tray that was set out, and was trying not to touch the rest of the supper. It wasn't just wondering if Baldur would laugh at her, but also worry that it was so late. The thought that the Forsworn might have gotten them almost set her to chewing on her manicured nails, but remembering Ysana's stern look kept her from doing it. Baldur and Mazoga made their way into the temple and was greeted with a crowd of annoying giggling and laughing Dibella women standing by the door with his mom in the front. When they came in, the crowd swarmed the two warriors hugging and hopping up and down all talking at once about how shocked they were going to be. "Uh, mother! I don't think Rebec would appreciate the...circumstances...right now? Where is she?" Ysana was smirking while biting her fingernail as she paused to take in the moment. She was quite proud of herself and what she managed to do for Rebec and her son. Ysana clapped her hands twice to make the girls scatter and leave to fetch Rebec, herself included. Baldur readjusted his outfit after the girls had stopped pulling on it in their excitement, then he lightly rubbed his buttocks. He was pretty sure one of them snuck in a pinch on his ass in the confusion. "....Wow, not what I expected when I came up here. It's got me a little worried, Mazoga." The Dibellan priestesses started talking about what they'd do to Mazoga, and that brought out the orc in her. They got the message when she snapped her tusks at them. Turning to Baldur, she said, "You left Cap alone with these harpies? I didn't realize I was the lucky... Stendarr save me." The orc had broken off when she saw Rebec coming up the stairs. At first she had thought it was another of the priestesses, this one in a fancy dress instead of robes, and almost didn't recognize her. Mazoga had to pick her jaw up off the floor to speak. "Captain? That you?" "Yes, it's me. Did the Forsworn eat your brains?" Rebec looked from Mazoga to Baldur and waited nervously for his reaction. Baldur was at a loss for words. He had tried to picture Rebec before in a dress and drew a complete blank. This was.... Holy shit..... Baldur was still staring dumbly until he realized Rebec was waiting for him to say something. It was a good thing Mazoga was still staring at her, because then she'd start laughing at him for how strongly his face was flushed. Baldur slowly walked his way forward to Rebec, feeling a little self conscious from not being dressed up to match her. The contrast between the two was like a princess standing next to a savage barbarian. Baldur took off his dirty gauntlets and placed them in a pack he was carrying, then dropped it on the floor to grab Rebec's hands. "...your hands...." "Like a baby's, aren't they? Useless." Rebec smiled, however. She hadn't seen Baldur blush that much since the night he found out she'd read his journal. "You said you couldn't picture me in a dress. I guess this ought to help?" Baldur was still staring in amazement at the woman who he thought was his wife. He always knew Rebec was beautiful, but this...beautiful didn't cut it. She was...radiant. "What are you doing here? Your throne is in Solitude." "Did they turn me into Elisif?" Rebec laughed. She was touched by Baldur's obvious dumbfoundedness. Brushing a hand over his cheek, she said softly, "I'm glad to see you, too, Red-Snow. I was starting to worry." A little scuff drew her attention to where Mazoga was slowly backing towards the door. "Thanks for bringing him back, Maz. It wasn't all bad today, but these Dibellans are more bloodthirsty than Forsworn by a long stretch." Baldur shook his head to snap out of his current state. Baldur took out the Briarheart and presented it to her in both of his hands. "That horse Elisif wishes she looked a tenth as good as you do even without all this. Mazoga and I encountered an interesting person today. The Forsworn she put a bolt in at our camp was alive. This was somehow keeping him alive. I ripped it out of his chest and thought of you. Because you stole my heart a long time ago." The cheesier, the better. That gold is mine. Hehehe. It was just grotesque enough to make Rebec feel gooey inside. Tilting her head, she was about to kiss him when she noticed Mazoga lurking closer. Before she could question what in Oblivion her first mate was doing, the orc cursed. "You got me, boss. Ten septims is worth that, though. Wait til the other crew hear about this." Rebec looked from Mazoga to Baldur and realized they made some sort of bet, but she was too happy to be mad, even for play. Besides, she had a secret weapon to turn the tables on him. Leaning up, she whispered into Baldur's ear, "Wait til you see what's underneath the dress." Ha! Who's blushing now?! Baldur covered his face with his left hand to cover his cheeks. Baldur's ears were even starting to flush at this point. The blood pumping through them made it feel like a fireplace was just lighted in his head. Making sure not to turn his head for Mazoga to see, Baldur said to the orc, "Hey, uh its...its getting late...s-so you should uh...go." The door was slamming shut before he got the words out. A fool, Mazoga was not. Rebec smiled slyly and pulled on his armor strap to lead him back down the stairs to their room. She thought about making a crack about his mother knowing best, but decided to leave parents out of it for now. Baldur could be grateful to Ysana later. Content 14+ When Baldur and Rebec got into the room, Baldur saw in a basket on a mini table to his left a bunch of potions next to a whole tray of strawberries and a jar of honey. In the middle of the room was a steak dinner on a table fit for two, but dinner was the very last thing on Baldur's mind right about now. Baldur took a look at some of the potion labels. Potion of stamina regeneration. Self explanatory. Why not? Ok, potion of deft hands...sure. Ok, potion of fortify one handed. Why would I need to fortify my sword sk- oh...right. One handed, I see. Fortify two handed? Oh, that's not for me.... Baldur downed a couple of the potions figuring while he didn't need them, it couldn't hurt. Baldur then picked up the tray of strawberries and the jar of honey and walked over to the bed which was a red and gold pattern that went along with Rebec's dress. Oh Talos, it's not stone! So squeaky though. Somehow I doubt that's not by design. Baldur placed the food on the bed and walked back to Rebec, placing his left hand on her hips and pushing hers to his while he fondled the straps to her dress with his finger. "You know, I almost don't want to take this off. You look like a gift from the gods. But the best part of a gift is the unwrapping of it. But not just yet." Rebec was ready to take the dress off, too, but she had enough Dibellan in her to know the value of making both of them wait until they couldn't stand it any longer. She'd already had a laugh about the potions, and had taken a stamina one for herself. Couldn't hurt. Being scraped to the bone and spit-shined by priestesses was hard work. She nibbled on a strawberry, trying to look seductive. The dress and Baldur's hungry stare helped. "You better eat something. It's been a long day and it's not done yet. I take it from that present you brought me the Forsworn didn't give you much trouble?" Baldur took the strawberry in his fingers then rubbed the tip gently around her lips letting the juices drip into her mouth before letting her take another bite. Smiling, Baldur said, "I guess you can say that. No one died. Mazoga killed a hagraven. So glad I have you to wipe the memory clean. I guess dinner couldn't hurt. Here." Baldur took a seat at the table, but instead of letting Rebec go to her seat, he pulled her by her hands to sit in his lap. "Notice its just the one steak. Come, tell me about your day." Rebec laughed at his playing. Baldur could be quite romantic himself for a soldier. Must be a bit of Ysana in him after all. She let him cradle her in his lap, ruffling at his beard with her fingers and kissing his ear lightly. "You don't really want to know the agony that went into getting me this way. Horses getting shod have an easier time of it." She kicked off the little sandals to show him her soft "new" feet. He was still in armor, but she brushed his leg with one of them anyway, leaving the rest to his imagination. "Your mother is quite something. You wouldn't believe it, but she's scary when she's determined." "I can imagine." said Baldur as he started pushing off his boots with his feet. He wanted to feel them for himself. "Wow...I shouldn't take off anything else or we'll never get through dinner. You smell amazing. Much better than me when we were all covered in mud for an ambush." Baldur picked up a fork and knife to cut a large piece of meat for the two to eat, letting Rebec go first. Baldur noticed some red wine as well on the table, which he had to admit was more appropriate then mead at the moment. "They have public baths here, did you know that? But I can wash you up if you want." Rebec smiled and took a bite of steak for herself, then speared another and held it up for him to eat. "Your ma and the priestesses ordered everyone out of there but us. It was still embarrassing. I guess it was worth it, though, judging by the heat coming off you even through that armor. Unkindled." Her smile turned more teasing and she reached for the wine to pour them a glass. Baldur was watching her like one would some exotic animal. Whatever the Dibellans did, she really was like a new woman, not that he didn't like the old Rebec just as much. In another life, Baldur could definitely see Rebec as royalty. He thought back to what his mother said about her having so much "potential". Baldur realized now what Ysana's gift was. It was quite amazing to behold. It was like discovering everything there was in the known world you loved and discovering there was even more beyond the horizon. "Don't worry, I washed up in the streams twice before we came. It's funny, Imperials before they come here always think we're savages that stink, yet when they get here they comment on how much we clean ourselves. Savages...if they could see this...I feel like any minute now my wife's gonna come bursting through that door with axes raised for having a strange woman in my lap." "I can get out my axes if you want." She laughed and took a sip of wine. It was getting harder to concentrate on either talking or the meal, with Baldur's eyes burning a hole through the nice dress. It made Rebec glad she hadn't bothered buying anything from those snooty elves in Solitude. It wasn't just the fabric that mattered. It had taken all Ysana's encouragement, and Hulga's muscle, to wrench her into believing that she could pull it off. Baldur had one hand on her back, and that suddenly wasn't enough. "The fabric feels nice, too. Why don't you see for yourself?" She didn't intend to take the dress off yet, but that didn't mean they had to be chaste at their dinner. Baldur gladly accepted the invitation and slid his hands down the middle of her breasts, grinning as he did until they came over her thighs, where he kept them, rubbing firmly, dangerously close to Rebec's center. "You know, we never actually had a chance to do this. A dinner date. I think this is technically our first actual date. I wonder if this is how it would've been if we did this first. You playing me like a pawn with your smiles and taunts. Me powerless to resist. For all my bravado, I am weak. Subject to your will. Only yours. That makes you a very powerful woman. Admiral of the navy and a general in the palm of your hands. You look the part..." Baldur took a sip of her wine before returning his hands to his comfortable position. Rebec didn't feel especially powerful, rather the other way around, weak-kneed and weak-willed ever since her first conversation with Baldur- least of all when his hands were on her- but she played along. She smiled slyly, as if that had been her plan all along, and went back to the wine cup. Better to let them both come back down from the high before building it up again. "We never had time for such things. Or we didn't make time, since we could have, in Solitude. Just have to say no to Ulfric and Galmar more often." "Without a doubt. Galmar will hate it, but to hell with Galmar. He sees this as a weakness. Maybe it is. No more than the weakness that a man relies on his arms and legs. He can't understand that, then too damn bad." Baldur rested his head on Rebec's arm as he pulled her closer to him and closed his eyes. "I love you so much, Rebec. So so so damn much that it aches." She touched his cheek, understanding exactly the simultaneous happiness and need in his voice. "I'd say there's a cure for that, but the cure seems to make the sickness deeper. Guess we've got to live with it then." "Gladly. I think it's time for my treatment. I'm starting to overheat. Is the caterpillar ready to shed it's cocoon and reveal it's real beauty?" Baldur was already working at the strings slowly as he spoke. "Dinner's up, but I hope you saved room for some strawberries and honey." Rebec slapped his hand away. "I'd say we need to start working on your cuirass first. You got a nice feel of me and there you are hiding under all that armor." She stood and pulled him with her, starting on the armor straps. "No touching," she reminded him sternly as the free hand started wandering towards her again. He'd already gotten a few of the laces on her bodice open, but he'd have to live with the little peek of red lace that revealed underneath. "Damn it, woman this is worse than Thalmor torture." Baldur grinned slightly but complied with her game, powerless to do otherwise. Baldur slipped off the bear furs that lay on his shoulders and then lifted the officer leathers from his chest, revealing his toned chest and abs. Baldur already had his boots and gauntlets off. All that remained was his kilt. "Your turn, Miss Red-Snow." said Baldur while rubbing his stomach. Rebec was in no hurry. The "no touching" rule didn't apply to her, since she was making the rules, so she ran her hands along his chest, letting him feel the fabric of the dress on bare skin now. While she did so, she began kissing him with gentle pulls of her lips on skin and on his mouth, never letting him capture her. Holding his gaze, she then tugged at a few more bodice strings. Beneath was a garment more fitted than her usual wraps, and of a fine lace that only allowed a hint of the skin beneath to show. Breaking her own rules, she took his hand and guided it there. As much torture as it was for him, with the friction of the lace on her skin it was moreso for her, an entirely different sensation than skin to skin. Her kisses were more urgent after that, and moreso when his hands slipped down her back. Eventually she couldn't wait to be rid of the dress and wriggled her shoulders out of it, letting it fall. There was a slip of matching lace at her thighs, only just covering what it was meant to cover. Baldur took her placing his hands on her as the signal for him to say to hell with the rules. Baldur was wide eyed now at the lacey under garments she wore, never seeing anything like them that accentuated the female body in such a way before. These Dibellans really know what the hell they're doing! Baldur moved his hands to the back of Rebec's breast covering, kissing and sucking hungrily at her neck as he did. As they dropped, Baldur pushed her back to the bed as his hands rested on her bosom. Baldur took a strawberry from the tray and opened up the jar of honey. After dipping it in, Baldur brought the strawberry to her lips, letting the excess sweet thick material fall on her tongue as he lowered it for her to lick. He didn't let her bite it however. Instead he pulled it back as she tried to and ran the strawberry down her jaw, then down her neck, between her breasts, down her rising and falling stomach, all the way down to where her lacy garments just barely covered her center. Baldur then ate the strawberry and sucked lightly at her sweetened lips then ran his tongue down the path of sticky sweetness that he laid out until his mouth came to the border of her fancy underwear, which he pulled down further with his teeth, all the way down to her feet, which he then kissed, feeling the softness of them in his hands, then he moved up to her ankle as he lifted her leg. He continued on kissing her leg until he reached her thighs, torturing her with the tickle of his beard and going near her pelvis, but stopping short of her core, going past that now back up to her lips again. Baldur's rules are nice, too, Rebec thought as she closed her eyes to let his touch and the soft sounds be more intense. "You missed a spot," she whispered finally, guiding his hand again. Baldur complied to her wishes and put the potion of deft hands to good use. Baldur dipped his free hand into the honey jar again, then he brought his finger to her open mouth, letting her caress it with her tongue. When Baldur's finger was clean, Rebec immediately kissed him, letting the taste mingle. Finally she broke off and began undoing his kilt straps, watching him as he watched her. Her hands were softer now, more like the touch of her lips, which she also let him feel in generous amounts. Returning her lips to his, she kissed him again, then said, "If I'm a queen, then you have to obey me." She slid their hips together and, hooked one leg through his, leaving him little choice. "This is true, my lady. And I'm only too happy to oblige." Baldur kissed at Rebec's ear as he whispered in it with his hot and heavy gasping breath, "I love you, Rebec Red-Snow." She could only manage his name at first, but a few minutes later breathed out that she loved him, as well. Then briefly, before her mind was carried away from itself, Rebec thought of Dibella and understood why the Nords revered her.

Baldur and Rebec Red-Snow Silver-Blood Inn Morning Baldur was sleeping soundly still set atop of Rebec's stomach, perfectly content to stay that way forever. The warmth of her soft body on his face was just pure bliss. It wasn't until he started hearing a strange noise suddenly that he finally woke up. It was already nine in the morning, a bit later than what he was used to sleeping to, but both of them were just worn out physically and mentally from the previous day. Mmm, what...what is that? Sounds like, bear? No...fire...heat everywhere.... "Dragon!" said Baldur somewhat loudly but muffled from half his face being buried on Rebec. Baldur slightly leaned his head up and waited in that position for a while for his vision to come into focus. After it did he heard the strange noise again coming from Rebec's stomach. She was clearly quite hungry. Baldur snickered and laid back down, waiting for Rebec to wake up on her own. Rebec was having a less than pleasant dream about being stuck in endless passages of a Nord tomb with draugr chasing her, but stirred with the tickle of beard hair on her stomach. She mumbled Baldur's name and put a hand on his head, the dream receding into the pleasant warmth of waking next to him. She dozed a while longer, then woke up more fully, stretching and letting out a yawn that sounded like a horker being strangled. Her hand was still on her husband's head, and she petted his hair, saying, "Baldur, your ma..." A reminder that she was supposed to meet Ysana that day, and if he stayed where he was for much longer, she'd be very late. Baldur while he was waiting for Rebec to wake was about to fall back asleep again before he heard her bear call of a yawn. Purposefully rubbing the side of his beard on her stomach playfully, Baldur said, "Oh, look who's finally awake. Don't worry, I have the feeling those priestesses aren't early birds, although mom did come here earlier to talk to me. As did your favorite tavern girl." That got Rebec awake in a hurry. She sat up. "Does that girl want another beating? I'll happily oblige." Baldur leaned up in the bed smiling mischievously. He expected the reaction. "Don't worry, she just came to tell me mother stopped by. She asked if her and I had any chance of working before you came along. I made it clear it didn't and that she needed to move on. She got the message. Got to give it to her, she's persistent. After that beating...Anyway, I got a letter also from a legion messenger. Marius is dead." Their eyes met. "Moon Balls," Rebec said, knowing that was what Baldur was thinking, too. With a groan she stood up, and immediately regretted it. Barfights, draugr fights, finding her husband's bones, and killing traitorous guardsmen had left her feeling like every muscle had a hangover. She went over to their mead stash and started pawing through bottles, trying to find one that wasn't empty. Over her shoulder she said, "That means he could be coming for us someday, too. I get the feeling Moon Balls isn't one to leave loose ends." "Yes, well...that was always a possibility. It's possible, but we're not actively hunting him down. Maybe he won't try it, but if he does, so be it. I sent a letter to the Princess letting her know who actually killed Marius. I'll spare you the details on his death, but basically they didn't know who did it. Now they will. And if he's in Cyrodiil, my letter may catch him off guard. I doubt it, but I made a promise to Marius and I kept it. It has a poem with a description of who he is and what he's done, along with my thank you to Marius. Dales will read it at his funeral. It's not much but it is the best I can do for now. It won't be enough, but who knows. Maybe someone will slip a dagger through his ribs." Baldur got up from the bed as well now, going to his pack and pulling out some dried meat and some cheese for the two of them. "Here, I know you're hungry." "Someone will have to find his ribs before they can stick a dagger in it." All the mead bottles were empty, so she tossed the last one back with frustration and resorted to the meat and cheese. In between bites she said, "You wrote a poem for Marius? I guess you staked a lot on him, but still... You're an odd one, Baldur." Baldur started to laugh, remembering the whole debacle the imperial caused. All the trouble in the end was worth it. He played a large role in making that agreement work, with both his men and the Imperial's. "He deserved it. It was mostly about what Samuel did, but I put in Marius's role in our alliance as well. And also how he helped rescue me. Never thought I'd consider an Imperial soldier a...I don't know. Can I call him friend? I guess so. I respected him for what he did. Eventually I could have grown to like him. I suppose that's enough. He helped bring me back to you, which is funny since I thought you'd leave me before we became a we because of him. Glad that wasn't the case." "I wish he'd never set foot in our camp. Hindsight's perfect, but we never needed him and he only brought us trouble, including getting you captured to begin with. So I can't say I give a toss what happened to him. Anyway I guess this was more about sticking a finger in Moon Balls' eye. You just couldn't leave that alone?" "We're not going to get in another argument, are we?" said Baldur while smiling. "If things didn't pan out the way they did, the alliance would never have happened, we'd still be at war with the Legion and the Thalmor would have a much easier time invading both of our lands. As for Moon-Balls, maybe. I was angry when I wrote it." Rebec shook her head. "Remind me to tell you about the pirate lords I battled. Sometimes you have to call it a draw and go about your business. As for Marius, if what that wizard said is true, Witchie won our alliance. Marius should've stayed and turned other legion against the Thalmor and Pale Pass might've been very different. I'm sorry, Baldur, but we see this differently. I guess I ought to be glad that you've got a soft spot for lost causes, though." She grinned a little and looked at herself in the small mirror. "Planes of Oblivion. Your ma has her work cut out for her. What did she want, anyway?" Baldur thought about that for a while, staring at the stone floor beneath his bare feet. Soft spot for lost causes. Perhaps he saw himself as a lost cause once before he was given a second chance. There was a pause before Baldur spoke up to answer Rebec's question. "She just wanted to see if we could stay or if she could come with us. She wanted to get to know me more. I wonder why she asked for this...'Girls Day' if that is what she wanted. Perhaps she feels safer somehow finding out through you? Or perhaps she knows you likely know me better than I do. Hopefully she doesn't spend the whole time asking about me. That would get boring I'd imagine." "Maybe she wants to show you about what she does, which obviously has to be through me. She wants you to be proud of her. I don't know what I think about this, though. Speaking of lost causes." Rebec gestured at herself, roughened even from her usual condition because of travel and their battles. Slowly, still aching, she began putting on her bits of armor. Even a walk through Markarth meant you had to be armed and ready for anything. Baldur raised an eyebrow in surprise at her observation. "That's rather astute of you. I forgot I called her...well, you know. As far as your appearance goes, it's a bit like gilding the lily if you ask me." Baldur walked over to Rebec and hugged her waist from behind, kissing her cheek as he did. "How do you decorate something that already is perfect?" Smiling, Rebec nuzzled his cheek. "Your poet ways might get us into trouble, but it gets you into me, too, I'll give you that." She laughed and pushed away from him. "Now let me go. If I don't get up there to the temple soon, Ysana's going to send the Dibellan infiltration team to drag me out. So what are you going to do today?" Baldur went back to his pack, realizing his mother was likely anxiously waiting for the two and went to put on his Stormcloak Officer armor, starting with the kilt, then the chest piece. "Well, I figured I'd go hunt some forsworn with the men. I'll take a small team and do some guerrilla warfare. Do some good while I'm here. I was hoping Mazoga would come too. Where is she?" Baldur now slipped into his boots and placed his gauntlets on, afterwards putting chunks of meat and cheese on his bear claws before consuming them. "She knows some orcs in town and has been bedding down with them, but she usually comes over here for breakfast." Rebec finished putting her own armor on, slyly watching Baldur as she did so. She never got tired of that. Though when he started using his gauntlets as a fork again, she had to shake her head. "Alright, wish me luck." When she opened the door, there was a figure there with his hand up, about to knock. Rebec jumped, expecting it to be one of that guard's friends, but it was Hjarn, the sailor she'd picked off an imperial ship. "Sweet Mara's teats, Broadhands! It almost came to axes. What do you want?" The sailor looked nervous. He glanced in at Baldur and nodded a greeting, then looked back at Rebec. "Admiral Rebec. I was hoping you hadn't left town yet. I got no right to ask it, but I was wondering if I could come back to Solitude with you." "You aren't staying longer? You helped us with the Forsworn, so as far as I'm concerned we're even and you're free to do as you please." "I'm done here." He said this heavily, implying things hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped with his family. "Fair enough. I'll be stopping in Morthal this time." Over her shoulder, Rebec explained to Baldur, "Toki's got some kin there. They hate me, but I feel I ought to tell them in person what happened." Hjarn nodded. "That's fine. Safer traveling in a group. I'll find you then, before you leave." The morose sailor walked off. That done, Rebec grabbed Baldur by the cheese-studded gauntlet, pulled him to her and kissed him. "You be careful, Red-Snow. I don't want to spend my evening pulling Forsworn arrows out of you." Baldur grinned before hugging Rebec, biting off a piece of meat behind her back as he did. "You know what I always say. I'll be back before...." "Don't say that cursed word!" Rebec still didn't know what it meant, but she didn't want to know. Mazoga was indeed out in the tavern area, eating her breakfast. She was more than happy to take Baldur up on his invitation to go hunting. "Better than what she's doing today," the orc said, grinning and gesturing with her head towards Rebec. "Not another word or you're coming with me to the Dibellans, too." Since she was leaving Baldur in good hands, Rebec felt better about their plans, and made off for the temple, hurrying since she was late. Gotta remember to ask her why Toki's family hates her. Baldur was excited and ready to get under way for the day. Turning to Mazoga, Baldur said, "Okay, Mazoga! It's just you, me, our weapons, soon to be dead Forsworn and a river of blood to be spilled below our feet. You ready?" "I'm an orc, boss. Ridding the world of fools, that's what we do." The orc stood up, strapped on her crossbow and patted her sword. "Let's do it." Baldur nodded his head and headed off to the gates of Markarth where a team of ten new soldiers from the Stormcloak camp nearby had awaited. Baldur had the remaining men from the previous night go there and cycled them out. Baldur wouldn't admit it, but he was a bit relieved to go killing separately from Rebec. He had no idea how much he worried in combat with her around, which honestly made him fight better. But it was harder for him to enjoy it. **** Ysana was indeed waiting for the two to hurry up and get to the temple. She watched the entire time from above, impatiently tapping her foot as Rebec made her way up the stone steps. Rebec was right on the money about her. This was about getting to know Rebec, but it was indeed also to show Baldur that what she did was a good thing. The best way to do that was through the woman he loved, just as Rebec said. Ysana never did go back to sleep. She had to force herself with some herbs the night before and even then it didn't come. She wasn't tired though. Most of her life was spent relaxing, which was why she looked so young. So sleepiness did not burden her. Anxiousness and excitement however was practically murdering her. Finally Rebec reached the top of the steps and Ysana wasted no time in squeezing her neck once she did in a hug. "Oh you finally came! We have so much to do, we have to do your hair and and your nails and a dress and your face and and...oh I forgot everything! No wait, I got it, bath house first!" Ysana was clearly up all night thinking about everything, but her ideas became jumbled up from her excitement. Rebec was a little overwhelmed at the hug and Ysana's enthusiasm, but she smiled and took it well enough. At mention of the bath, her smile wavered and she lifted an arm for a sniff. "Good idea. Look, you probably can tell, I'm more into axes and rope than... whatever it is you do. Just don't get your hopes up." Ysana pulled back and looked into Rebec's eyes with a stern determined look in her face. "You sound like the husbands women used to bring up here for a fix up. They all end up leaving singing a different tune once we're done and their wives are all over them. You'll see. Hold on." Ysana poked her head into the doorway to yell inside. "GIRLS! Lets move out!" Ysana started pulling Rebec along down the stone steps now in the direction of the stone bathhouse which was built under a waterfall that fell through the building. "Oh and keep your hand on your axe. It's not safe in the streets at times." Ysana revealed two steel daggers hidden in her priest robe sleeves. "Shame that I have to walk with these, but you gotta have 'em. I'm no soldier, but even a Dibella priestess has to know how to use these. Sometimes students are too strange in their tastes even for us and try to force the issue. We're priests of Dibella not Molag Bal afterall." "My axe and I, we're tight, don't you worry," Rebec answered. Then she had to shut up and watch where she was going, because if you stumbled in Markarth, you could end up flat as a cowpie at the bottom of some long stair. When they got on a level place, she piped up again. "You aren't going to make me pray or anything, are you? Because the last time I talked to a priestess about religion, it ended up in a brawl. It was actually..." Catching the look on Ysana's face, Rebec said, "Uh, never mind." "I'll do the rites for you I suppose. Normally we do have the people who come in thank Dibella for the beauty bestowed on us, but since you're my son's wife, I'll make an exception." The other Dibella priestesses, ten in total caught up to the two and surrounded them in a crowd. The sight got a lot of stares from civilians nearby. Most hadn't seen the Dibella priestesses in a large group in years and some had never seen it at all. Some people were gossiping when they recognized Rebec and thought she was getting initiated. If Baldur were able to hear what some of the men had to say about that possibility, it would not have been good. They were careful to keep their comments quiet enough for the group not to hear however, lest they got relayed to him. There were guards posted around the bathhouse to watch for anyone trying to assault someone while inside, whether the victim be male or female. There was a decent amount of people inside, mostly single and there were a few inside getting well acquainted. It wasn't unusual, in fact it was the norm for bathhouses. Sometimes this lead to diseases, in which case a city could put a ban on licentious activity within bathhouses if it got widespread. Ysana heard the short lived couples from outside the bathhouse, as did the guards who weren't shy about watching. "That is why I had the others come with us among other reasons. I know my Baldur wouldn't appreciate me bringing you to a bathhouse without him around. We have an understanding with the guards, so it's no worry. We'll have the whole place to ourselves for a while." Ysana signaled the guards to clear everyone else out of the bathhouse. Ysana was laughing at all the commotion from inside as they tried breaking up the happy pairs reluctantly. "Pretty ironic, huh? Us of all people stopping the sex. Anything for my son." "Uh, yeah. Ironic." Rebec was still as bewildered as the onlookers to find herself in a flock of Dibella priestesses talking about "rites" and public baths. Sailors were frank about sex as well, but that was an entirely different color of horse. Once the group walked their way in and the guards and people were cleared out, the priestesses began pulling up tables near the water in the middle of the room and unpacked their supplies. Ysana closed the doors after slipping some coin in a guard's hands for the favor and then began to strip. The room itself was stone with a square space around the medium waterfall coming through the bathhouse. The house was illuminated from outside through narrow rectangular opeings in the ceiling. The water went under a stone path to a longer rectangular strip that carried the rest of the water out of the bathhouse, the exit being sealed off with a dwarven drain that had long rectangular narrow openings that went up and down vertically. There were also four different circular bath tubs big enough for four people each. Ysana decided to hop into the square space by the waterfall and waited for Rebec to do the same. The other Dibella priestesses took their places elsewhere. The admiral looked around at the Dwemer architecture suspiciously as she stripped down. Then, glancing down at herself as she climbed in the pool where Ysana waited, she was self-conscious of her scars and the roughness of her hands and feet, calloused from her highly physical lifestyle. There were a couple newer scars, too, darker than the others. As she settled into the warm water, however, it was so blissful on her tired, sore muscles that she soon forgot everything else. "Shor's balls, I could get used to this," she muttered, resting her head back on the side of the pool. Ysana watched as her daughter in law climbed in and laid back her head, laughing at her comment before agreeing and doing the same. "Mhmm, Shor's balls indeed." ***** Thirty minutes out from the city, there was a group of twenty men and women walking their way to Markarth's front gates. These men were donned in animal skins and furs, bone fragments carved into shapes for jewelry or weapons and some even had animal heads on theirs as head ware. Their faces were covered in various painting styles and patterns and this distinct appearance made it very clear to anyone in Markarth, nay Skyrim who they were. Forsworn. They were moving on Markarth for a quick hit and run on the citizens living outside the city before taking off. Normally the Forsworn in this area wouldn't have had the sack for an ambush like this, but something for the people in this area had changed. The leader of the group looked typical of their people. Furs across his chest, back and legs with bone ornaments all over him, as well as his two bone spiked weapons he was carrying in his hands. Flies were swarming around them trying to settle on the blood from the past kill he made the night before. A family of nords on a carriage. Mother, father, brother and sister. They made the father watch as they killed the others. Then instead of granting him the mercy of death, they tied him up to a tree and forced him to stay there among his dead family. Forced to watch them decay and be set upon by animals as he slowly wasted away. This was the realities of their life. This was the Reach. In the middle of the Forsworn was a breton woman of about twenty one years. She was bound and gagged, apparently their prisoner. She was wearing a torn green blouse with brown trousers and no shoes. Her hair was brown and shoulder length. Two braids hanged on each side of her head, although one was partly undone. It wouldn't be clear to anyone but the Forsworn as to why they were bringing a prisoner on an ambush to Markarth, but it soon would be. The leader called back to the group now to make sure they got the plan. "Okay, this is a hit and run. We hide under the bridge of the road nearby while two of us go and get the guard's attention. When they come, so do we and ambush them." The leader stopped momentarily as his foot stepped in something that made a loud squish and almost made him slip. The group was making a pass over a rather muddy part of the road caused by a recent high tide of the stream it was next to. The leader tried walking over the less muddy part of the road where the stone was exposed. Finally he continued. "Then if things go south, we have our back-up plan. We use that then leave, got i-." The man stopped in his tracks. He wasn't sure what he was looking at in his confusion, but to him it appeared that the mud just got up and stabbed him through his stomach. The group of Forsworn were frozen for a while before they snapped out of it and drew their weapons. As they did, loud shrieking cries came from the ground causing a complete confused response from them as some men tried to run, only to be set upon by the mud as well and others either fought or sat there frozen. More of the mud started popping up now. Suddenly it was clear what had happened. The ambushers had been ambushed by men hidden in the mud. But it was too late to do anything once they realized the truth. Almost half their men were killed from the ambush including their leader. A forsworn woman who was about to run away ran smack into another of the ambushers. Her face and front were now completely caked, but now her blood from the open wound in her skull ran over her face also, mingling together with the mud as her body twitched and spasmed from electricity. "Kill them all! No mercy!" said Baldur, completely unrecognizable under the vesture of wet earth that enveloped him. A Forsworn man came running in his direction as he heard his order and tried to cut Baldur down with his two bone spiked swords, but even covered in mud, Baldur was able to move quickly and parry his blows. Afterwards Baldur flung some mud from his hands and arms into the man's eyes by flinging his arm horizontally as if he were trying to slap him. Then the general quickly decapitated him in a spinning swipe before the man had the chance to clear his eyes, leaving his head to fall flat and plop face first into the mud, where it would remain for quite some time. Mazoga had come up out of the mud aiming for arms. Sword arms, to be specific. Her mother's hand-crafted sword took three of these off in the confusion, then the orc ran to some nearby bushes where she had hidden her crossbow and bolt quiver. From there, she picked off two targets near Baldur. As she was loading another bolt, her attention was drawn by one of the Forsworn trying to drag a bound woman back the way they came. The Forsworn was backing away with the woman in between, and Mazoga couldn't get a clear target. The orc knew she might end up hitting her, but if she didn't try, the woman was done for anyway. With a deep breath she aimed high. The bolt skimmed the man's head and sank into his scalp. He released the captive with a yell, reaching for his wound, and in the next instant got a bolt straight through the mouth. Satisfied as he dropped, Mazoga searched for another target. Baldur was laughing as Mazoga picked off some of his targets before he could engage them. He was starting to admire that weapon her and Rebec used more and more. Despite being outnumbered, the element of surprise and fear was enough to tip the scale in their favor. Baldur watched as his men were finishing off the remainder of the forsworn. Three of them had one cornered and she slipped from the mud and managed to trip over a corpse, landing on her stomach. A stormcloak soldier put a boot over her back and sent his steel blade straight through the back of her skull. There was one left trying to run away, but unfortunately Baldur had him in his sights. The lone forsworn saw Baldur making his way for him, which made him stumble briefly as he wasn't watching where he was going. First mistake. Baldur took the opportunity to throw his dirty axe into the back of his leg on the other side of his knee. The man tried crawling away but Baldur grabbed him by the back of his neck, then flipped him on his back. "Don't worry. I'll make your death quick. Tell me. What were you planning on doing with the girl? What gave you all the confidence to strike so close to Markarth?" The Forsworn gave Baldur no answer. Baldur thought briefly about forcing it out of him, but he just really didn't have the urge to like he would have before. There was no need. It wasn't a pressing matter. But that doesn't mean I've gone soft. Besides, I have another idea... "You're lucky I'm a man of my word. Gods have mercy on you." With that, Baldur sent his muddy boot through his skull, ending the battle. Baldur made his way back to the rest of the men and Mazoga now, along with the girl. "Mazoga, can you watch this girl while the rest wash up? We'll do it quickly and four at a time so the others can watch for ambushers." "Sure thing, boss." Mazoga turned her attention to the girl as the others went to wash. "How did they get you?" The captive said nothing, and the orc figured she was traumatized so didn't press it. She waited her turn and when Baldur came back, went to wash herself, saying,"Couldn't get anything out of her. Stendarr only knows what they did to her." Baldur who was soaking wet stared at the girl for a while as he combed out his hair with a horker tusk comb. The girl could have been traumatized as Mazoga said, but he wasn't so sure. Baldur whistled for one of the men to go and watch the girl, then Baldur pulled Mazoga aside to speak. "You don't think it strange that they were walking towards Markarth with her?" The orc pulled mud clumps from her hair. "They probably meant to use her to get the guard to open the gates or something. You'd think by now they'd know the Nords in Markarth don't care if one or a dozen innocent people die, as long as they get their Forsworn. Dumb idea." "Hmm...I guess. I guess we keep her for now. Say, before you wash up, can I hold that weapon of yours?" said Baldur. He was hoping to try the weapon out for a long time now. After Mazoga took two of his kills with the thing, Baldur figured it was high time he get to try it out. "This? It's just a sword." Mazoga handed the sword over. It was an orcish style blade, with blunted barbs so that it was more of a hacking weapon than armor-puncturing. It had no adornment, the orc way being to let functionality be the only ornament you needed. "My mother made it for me. My folks retired to a shack near Riften and borrowed the smith's forge in exchange for some meat and hides. She destroyed ten blades before she got one she was proud of." "No, no. The bow, the crossbow! I've been dying to try that out for a while now. The power in that weapon is impressive. Not that I don't appreciate the craft of a good sword however. I heard orcs are excellent smiths." Mazoga laughed. "As much as I use the crossbow, it still doesn't seem like a real weapon. The captain got us using them." She picked up the crossbow and handed it over to Baldur. "I can't argue against what it does in a boarding action. Built by the Dawnguard. The odds were already against the imperial navy, but that right there tipped it even further." Baldur stared open mouthed as he rubbed his hands in anticipation of holding the weapon in his hands. To a grown man whose job was to kill, this was the closest thing to a toy as he'd get. Grasping it in his hands, Baldur tried mimicking Mazoga and Rebec, holding the butt of the handle to his right shoulder. "So...how does it fire?" "There's the trigger." Mazoga pointed at a lever on the underside of the bow. "The hard part is loading the bolt. It takes a bit of muscle, and it's not easy to do in the middle of a battle or when the deck of a ship is pitching under you. Go ahead, try it. Pull back here, slide the bolt in, wait til you hear the catch lock into place, then you just point and shoot. A baby could do that part." She handed Baldur a bolt and stood back to watch. Baldur never handled a crossbow before, but he saw Rebec do it a thousand times and figured it was a piece of cake. It wasn't. It took some getting used to. Baldur got it back though eventually. The strength it took to pull back the little string was surprising and the bolt slipped a couple times before he got it in. "Ok, and you said pull the trigger, like this? Oh, whoops!" Baldur wasn't paying attention to where he was aiming when he went to touch the trigger. It took very little pressure as the trigger required less of a pull and more of a tickle. The bolt went flying into some bushes off in the distance and a cry from what Baldur thought may have been a wolf could be heard coming from that direction. Baldur handed the weapon back to Mazoga. "....Uh...I guess I should stick to my axes. Tell you what, lets keep this between you and me. No need to go yappin to Cap'n eh?" Mazoga had been trying to keep from laughter while Baldur was struggling with the bolt, and finally lost it when his wild shot actually hit a wolf. Wiping her eyes, she said, "Even though Cap did the same thing the first time she picked up one of these? Took a fancy nobleman's hat right off his head in Solitude and pinned it to the wall behind him. Lost our drinking money for that night to pay the fine." Baldur wasn't quite as amused as Mazoga was of the mishap. The weapon didn't quite turn out to be what he thought it would. Mazoga's laughter made the matter worse, but he had to admit it was funny. "Yea, well...I'm always bragging to her about how great I am with my axes. Told her there wasn't a weapon on Tamriel minus magical ones that I couldn't handle...Glad I didn't make that a bet. Stop all your laughing and wash up you witch!" said Baldur, playfully shoving Mazoga towards the stream. "Your Nord pride isn't my problem," Mazoga called cheerfully as she plunged into the water. She came up yelling. "Agh! You didn't tell me this water was about to freeze over." The Nords hadn't been bothered by a snow-fed stream. It was now Baldur's turn to laugh at Mazoga's cries of the cold. One of the things that tickled Nords most was when outsiders or non Nords couldn't handle their liquor. The other thing was when they complained of cold. The other soldiers nearby were also laughing at Mazoga's comment. "Hahaha! Your Orc blood ain't my problem!" Mazoga stuck out her tongue at Baldur and plunged back underneath the water. They'd been under that mud a while, and she had mud in places where she didn't know she had places. She came back up yelling again, in singsong fashion, and shook herself like a dog when she was back on the shore. "That'll wake you up in the morning!" Squeezing water out of her leathers, she said, "Now what? We can't keep hunting with that Breton in tow. She's been through enough." Baldur forgot about the Breton girl temporarily. He still wasn't very sure about her. He didn't think the Forsworn would be stupid enough to try using her to get through the gates. Baldur wasn't quite sure what to do but he had a plan. "We'll just let the girl go then. She'll have to find her way back on her own. We don't have time to take her back to wherever it is she's from. Is that okay with you?" The little brunette girl simply nodded her head at Baldur's question. She was giving him a look of slight fear that the others seemed to dismiss as shock still. "You don't talk much, do you? Can I get your name? Where you live?" The girl still ignored Baldur's questions. "Well, fine. We don't have time to go back to Markarth. Stay off the road and make your way back there if you want. There's a Stormcloak camp fifteen minutes away in the city's direction. Have them escort you if you need to." Baldur signaled for the soldiers to let the girl leave. She took off in the direction of the woods however instead of Markarth like he thought she would. Baldur waited for her to be well out of earshot before he spoke up to Mazoga. "I think we should follow her." Mazoga was watching after her, too. Trauma was one thing, but she sure was acting strangely. "I'm starting to think you're right, boss. After you." She finished strapping her sword back on and grabbed the crossbow. Baldur nodded and signaled for the soldiers now gathered with them to move out. They had to be quick but careful. This may be their land, but Forsworn live out in the wood area a lot more than they did. ***** Ysana was floating up in the pool of water now face up with her feet kicked up on the stone. The other Dibellans were horse playing in the larger pool section that took the water out of the house. One of them was a rather large muscular woman with long blonde hair with arms that almost looked like a man's except there was no hair. She was man handling the other priestesses who were trying to dunk her head under water. Looking at her, one would wonder how in the world she turned out to be a Dibella priestess. Ysana had her eyes resting, but every now and then she'd peek to see their horseplay and glance at Rebec to see her facial expressions, which always made her giggle. "You can join them if you want. A soldier like you should be able to put her in her place." "That's alright," Rebec answered quickly, not eager to be in the middle of a bunch of naked, wriggling priestesses. She was still trying to figure all of this out, and was suspicious about when the sex was going to start. If it did, she was out of there. "How often do you lot do this, anyway? Is this part of your ritual?" Ysana couldn't help but blurt out with laughter which messed up her floating a bit. "No, this is no ritual. We're just relaxing. You need to be relaxed before you start getting fixed up. Otherwise it's like...how could I put it so you understand. It would be like getting a fancy new scabbard for a damaged sword. There's outward superficial beauty, but how you feel is just as important. Believe me, if this were a ritual, you'd know. As for how often, we haven't done this in some time now. A few years. Not much reason to since nobody comes around anymore. So when our priests go, they go with the rest of the citizens. No reason to send them all out then, if you catch my drift. But not me. Haven't done that in quite some time now. Since...well." "Right. Got it." Rebec wanted to ask more about Baldur's father, since she would never get to meet him, but that wouldn't be very relaxing for Ysana, so for a while she concentrated on washing her hair. When that was done, she said, "I never had much time for this sort of thing myself. Had to work like a dog to pay the bills, and ship's quarters don't allow for much luxury. My pa's got a sauna, though. Not as nice as this, but you..." She was about to suggest that Ysana could come use it sometime, but that might sound like she was setting up Baldur's mother with her father. And that was just weird. "Well this should be a good experience for you then. We'll get started soon. What's your pa like? Has Baldur already met him?" "No, we'll go there next I suppose. That might not go as well as meeting you has. Pa's a good man but not overly friendly, especially to men who hit on me. Not that Baldur did that, exactly." "He didn't? How'd you two get together then?" asked Ysana. She'd been dying to hear this for a while now. "He may have flirted a bit. It's kind of fuzzy. Well, it's like this. I was taking some supplies to Fort Neugrad, and... some other things. Ended up getting captured by imperials. Baldur was captain then, and his crew rescued me, sort of, and we attacked the camp. Baldur came to talk to me about all that and we ended up having a mead drinking contest with our other buddy, Boldir. I won." Rebec grinned, still proud of that achievement. "I got lost on the way back to my bunk and..." She had to grin again. "... and I ended up in Baldur's bed. He was passed out, you understand, and I was just looking for somewhere to sleep it off. He got quite a shock to find me there, but we got over it and... you know. The rest is history." Rebec wasn't about to explain the hagraven yet. Ysana should be eased into the ways of Baldur. Ysana started laughing pretty hard now and had to sit up normally in the water. "You mean to tell me my big bad Nordic General of a son lost a drinking contest to his wife? Hahahaha! Well at least you were nice enough to soothe his broken pride afterwards. That's quite a tale. Much more eventful than Ulrin and I. So you two just fell in love like that? After one night? I don't see it. He seems to care for you much more than that. And you him." Rebec grinned and even blushed a little, though mostly from being proud of herself. "No, not just the one night. We went back to Solitude and he helped me get out of some trouble and into the navy, then we went our own ways. I never forgot him, though. Naval battles, a lot of it is just waiting. I'd sit out there some nights in the freezing cold and think about him. I guess I had to go see if there was something there or just the mead talking. When I went back to Falkreath, landed right in the middle of the invasion. That hurried things up a bit for us, I guess. We got married in Falkreath." She skipped the part about Baldur being captured, which would be very upsetting for a mother. "That sounds so...romantic, Rebec. Going that far out of your way. I understand that you're the one that pushed him to come and see me. You have no idea how thankful I am for that." Ysana's vision started to get a little misty as she swam up to Rebec to give her a hug, momentarily forgetting about Rebec's feelings around other naked women. Rebec was alarmed, but Ysana was so genuine she couldn't put her off. Patting the woman's back slightly, she said, "Uh, you're welcome. That's enough of that." She smiled, however, and to ease the awkwardness started playing a little game of sticking one toe above the water and pretending it was a shark. "I don't know about romantic," she said as she did so. "It was a damn fool thing to do. Going into the middle of a war, I mean, not marrying your son. Baldur's sweet as honey. He'd have been married already if not for..." Oops. Shut your trap, Rebec. Ysana finally broke off from the hug, realizing she may have made Rebec uncomfortable. "Whoops, sorry about that. Gotta remember to control my motherly emotions. It's just I pictured my son in a war and you coming to fight with him and...It really is a great story. As for it being foolish, romantic things usually are, Rebec. I'm glad he waited so long to get married. I have a feeling I know what you were going to say and you're right. Our predicament probably turned him off to the idea. Funny how fate works, huh? If Ulrin and I had worked out, Baldur and you may have never been together. So knowing that is a bit soothing, if not bitter sweet. In any event it's time to start phase two." Rebec couldn't help thinking that even if that were true, she'd still wish that Baldur could have grown up with a mother and his parents would've stayed together. She was pondering that when Ysana's last words pierced the fog. "What's phase two?" she asked, suspicious again. Ysana was trying to hold back a laugh now, because she knew Rebec would be dubious at first, as were most people, until they fully understood what her next step was. "We're going to get out of the pool, put on some robes, yes Dibella robes, then you get introduced to a specialist of ours. Hulga. She's the large one over there you saw throwing around the others. Before you ask, there are men who have a taste for muscular women like her. And women too. Figure I'd get that out of the way. Anyway, go ahead and get dried up and into your Dibellan robes. HULGA! It's time! Go get dressed! Heh, at least you know this isn't some "ritual" since she's getting dressed huh? Hehehe." Rebec didn't know any such thing, and wasn't pleased at being turned over to a woman who looked like she could beat her in a fight. Now she knew how Hroki felt. She took one longing look back at the nice, warm, safe pool, and glared at the giggling priestess who helped her into her robe. Am I glad that Baldur can't see me now. Or anyone else I know, for that matter. Ysana stood back with the others to watch the spectacle. This was always a high point for these sort of things with them and they hadn't been able to see it in a while. Hulga, who was about Baldur's height, wound up her blond hair and placed her robes on as well. She never took her eyes off Rebec's even as she began cracking her knuckles and neck. "Hulga got fresh meat. Puny woman and Hulga have fun!" The other girls were cracking up at this now. Others didn't know til after she told them, but Hulga did not talk like this normally at all. It only added to the intimidation factor if people thought she was a big oaf. Hulga walked over to Rebec now so that they were face to face. "Ready, puny woman?" "You touch the funny bits and you'll find out how puny I'm not." Rebec figured talking tough couldn't hurt, though Hroki had probably thought the same thing. Hulga started to grin now after Rebec spoke. Starting to crack her neck again, Hulga said, "Heh puny woman got spunk! Hulga like spunk." With that, Hulga gave a big heave as she lifted Rebec up in her arms off the ground. "Okay, Rebec right? I don't really talk like that. I'm telling you this now so you can relax. Don't move. What I'm doing is a bit dangerous. Moreso if you move, got it? You're in good hands." "What...what in Oblivion are you... Okay, fine." Rebec stopped wriggling and waited for her doom. With that, Hulga got on one knee with Rebec still in tow. Once she was there, Hulga pushed Rebec's upper body back over her knee just hard enough to pop the joints in Rebec's spine like one would crack their knuckles. "See? How was that? I'm going to do that to your whole body. It'll make you feel weak at first in a few places, but you'll get used to it quickly and feel like a new person. Less tense." At first Rebec let out a yell, since it felt like the big Nord was breaking bones. Once it was done, however, she lay wide-eyed like a baby in Hulga's arms. "That felt... good." Hulga started laughing at her reaction. She never did get tired of that from people and it gave her pleasure to see them happy from it. Hulga did a few more spine pops in that position, then she gave Rebec a few more pops on her neck by head locking her and pulling on her neck. Once she finished that, Hulga had the other Dibella women hold her legs and arms so that she was suspended in the air. Hulga gave her a few feet pops and shoulder pops first, then she made her way to her hid section and placed one arm below her backside and one above. "Okay, Rebec. This one may hurt a tad, but it will be worth it. Afterwards, we can move on to the real tough part." This isn't happening, this isn't happening, Rebec thought as she was being held aloft, pulled and prodded by a half dozen chattering Dibellans. Being returned to Hulga's lap was a relief in comparison. "What's the tough par- AAAAGHHH!" True to her word, the next pop did indeed hurt. Hulga slammed her two powerful arms together, sandwiching Rebec's midsection to pop her pelvis area. Afterwards the Dibella priestesses set her down on the floor gently and gathered around to see how she was. There was no giggling this time. They all remembered Hulga's iron clasp before and it wasn't very pleasant at first. But after it was done, they all felt five years younger. "Hey, Rebec. Can you stand? How do you feel?" asked Ysana. The admiral stood silent for half a minute, dazed. She turned glassy-eyed to Ysana. "You lot should consider a career with the Thalmor." Ysana and the rest burst out laughing at the response, remembering all too well how she felt, but knowing the feeling would pass. Hulga grabbed Rebec's arm to help stand her up. "Oh come on, it wasn't that bad. Walk around a bit. Give your axes over there a few swings. I think you'll be able to feel the difference." She did as she was told, pliant as a child for once in her life. Her joints felt like jelly at first, but with the blood flowing, it dawned on Rebec she hadn't felt this good in years. She picked up Kyne's Talon and swung it. "Ha!" Downswing chop. "Take that!" She played a bit more, making as if to toss the axe towards the head of a Dwemer that was fixed into the wall, then turned back, chuckling. "Alright. Screw the Thalmor. I'm hiring you to work for the Stormcloaks." Hulga and the rest started laughing some more, proud that Rebec was happy with the service. Hulga especially was glowing from the compliment, but Ysana stood in front of them and raised her hand and clenched her fist for silence. "Now Rebec, I am afraid it's time for the hard part." "That wasn't the hard part?" Rebec asked bleakly. Ysana started chuckling evilly as she made her way to one of the bags they brought and pulled out some metal instruments shaped like half cylinders with wooden handles attached. "It depends. For regulars when we had them, that was. For first timers on the other hand...That was nothing. Sorry Rebec, but this is for your own good. Girls, grab her!" The Dibellans' glee was far more worrying than Ysana's dire predictions and the ominous looking instruments they had brought out. No one was listening to her anyway, but Rebec shouted, "Or maybe... Dagon is looking for... new ideas..." The Dibellans went and grabbed a chair to plop Rebec in and two buckets, which they filled with water. Then they pulled out some rose petals and placed them in the bucket and plopped Rebec's feet inside them to soak. This was just the beginning of phase three. "We'll let those bad boys soak for a while, but while we wait...we'll take care of those hands. You thought I wouldn't notice the calluses? Those are coming off, hon. Begin!" "Hey, I need those," Rebec protested weakly. There was no protesting, however. The rope hands were going. "Don't worry dear, I'm sure you'll gettem back. And when you do, I'll be right here to scrub 'em off. It'll hurt, but you'll feel better afterwards just like before. Hulga, if she starts struggling, hold her down. You two, get the tweezers." Ysana waited for the girls to start scraping at the tough calluses before she began to pick at Rebec's eyebrows and hairline. One hair at a time, carefully and mercilessly. "Now, this may seem unnecessary, but this will let your forehead show a bit more, which is a good thing. And we take care of the calluses and the hair at the same time, so you can't focus on one painful thing at a time. Makes it hurt less. In theory. To get your mind off of it, why don't you tell me about some of your adventures." "I was thrown in prison in Hammerfell and chewed on by rats once... AW!" Rebec thought she surely must be bleeding from hair being pulled from its roots and skin being clawed off. "That was a lot like this actually... AIEE!" Think happy thoughts. She closed her eyes and tried to think of something less painful. "That little adventure got me a pet dolphin, so it was worth it. Dolphins, those are cute little animals like small whales that live in the Abecean. They love to play. Some horkerbrain... OW!... some horkerbrain had one in a tank in his big palace in Hammerfell, with some other fish. The poor thing was diseased and the other fish were literally eating its flesh off its bones. My crew and I snuck in one night and stole it. That's how I ended up in prison, only there was no proof against me so they had to let me go eventually. I still see him sometimes. They're real smart and he knows my ship- well, he did. He probably won't recognize the new one. I call him Lefty because his left fin was so injured that it sticks up at a funny angle, so when he comes up from the water it looks like he's waving at...AGH, mercy! Try to leave me a little hair, will you?!" "Oh hush, you'll make the guards think we're murdering someone in here. Chewed on by rats? Well at least now they'll have less to nibble on, hehehe. I've never heard of a...dolphin before. Not quite what I expected to hear from a hardened sailor like yourself. Helping cute little animals in capti- oh, oops...." Ysana held a little clump of hair in her hands and quickly cast it aside before Rebec could see. "No matter, we'll just pull a little more off to make it even again." "What?! What are you people doing to me? I thought you were supposed to be experts! You can't tell me you do this to the men who come in for 'help'?" Rebec almost had to laugh at the idea of Baldur getting his hair tweezed, which didn't make her feel much better. War injuries at least had adrenaline to help with the pain. "Now now, give us a break here! It's been a while since we've done this. Besides, it doesn't look bad. In fact, it's starting to turn out pretty well." Ysana licked her thumb and smoothed out Rebec's brow. Then after a few more quick tweezer pulls, she backed up to get a good overall look at Rebec's face. "Not bad, not bad. Let me see those hands. Good, nice and raw like a new born baby's. Now, for the feet. Hulga, hold her legs together and don't let them move. This is really gonna hurt. Should be a lot easier now that we soaked your feet for so long. Hey Shila! You handle the make-up, but get her ears first, then comb her hair out and get it ready for styling. Rebec, you have any more stories to tell?" Ysana started digging in as soon as she asked her question, wasting no time in sending dead skin flying from Rebec's feet as she scraped at them furiously. Rebec was making gurgling noises by then, and in no mood to tell stories, just wanting the torture to end. She'd been sold on the joint-cracking but having her skin shaved off one layer at a time could have no good end in her book. "Baldur... this is all Baldur's fault..." she mumbled. Ysana was really getting in deep now, and unfortunately for her a piece of skin flew in her face. Ysana quickly wiped it off and continued her onslaught. "Ugh, tell me about it. It'll be worth it though. You'll see."

Boldir, Carlotta, Mila Whiterun, Dragonsreach war room. Late Morning "You think it warrants further inspection?" "I do." Jarl Vignar picked the steel Longsword up off of the table and looked it over. There was nothing special about the blade. It had none of the designs or carvings that Eorlund, or most other Nordic blacksmiths usually add. It was just a plain steel blade, and a flimsy one at that. "I don't know. It doesn't seem too special to me. The blade is poorly made, and it doesn't even look enchanted." Boldir shook his head. "The smith who crafted them was obviously an amateur, but it's not the forge's fault. Give Eorlund a go at it and you'll see that the forge is more than capable of producing good weapons. Of course, it's the enchatment that interests me." Vignar eyed the blade before setting it back down on the table. "You're sure that these weapons are enchanted?" "I'm positive. You don't see it because we're not in the moonlight. The ones in the ruin didn't reveal themselves either until we'd carried them outside." "Hmm" Vignar stroked his beard. "Silent Moons is a good ways into the tundra; and there is no road leading to it. A magic sword that only works at night doesn't seem worth the effort of setting up there." "I'm only telling you what we've found." said Boldir. "It's up to you to decide if it's worth looking into or not. I personally think that it is. This is an old magic we're talking about here, one that our ancestors utilized. It wouldn't require a mage, soul gems, or any of that nonsense." Boldir smiled. "All it requires is a good smith." Vignar had to admit, that having access to enchanted weapons without the cost of soul gems would be very good for Whiterun. They could be made in abundance and sold for a much higher price than most weapons. Which could help pay for setting up there. "Having two ancient magical forges under my city's control would make for a very impressive image. I'm convinced Iron-Brow. We'll send a garrison and some builders. We'll begin setting up a fortified outpost in the ruins. Then we'll start on the road. Hopefully when that's done, some artisans will be willing to set up shop around it and we can start a community. I'll talk to some people." Vignar paused. He just remembered a crucial detail. "But if we need a smith, and Eorlund is working the Skyforge, who will work this Lunar forge?" Boldir had already put some thought into this. "There are three blacksmiths in this city: Eorlund, Adrianne, and myself. Obviously, Eorlund and I are out, but Adrianne may appreciate the chance to work a magical forge. It'd even her odds a bit with Eorlund competition-wise. If she'd rather stay here, I know a very skilled apprentice in Windhelm who may be interested in moving up in the world." The Jarl's smile faded a bit at the mention of Adrianne. "I'm assuming this apprentice in Windhelm is a Nord?" "Yes," said Boldir, "but I think Adrianne deserves to at least be asked first. She's a skilled smith, and would be close to home." The old man shook his head. "If we are going to boast an ancient Nordic forge, it should be run by a Nord. It only makes sense. Some people would even be angered if we put her in charge of it." Vignar paused, and then smiled again. "Thank you Boldir, I will look further into the matter myself." Boldir nodded. It was the best he could do. "I'm glad to be of assistance." he hesitated for a second. Come on, now is the best time to ask him. "Jarl Vignar, I would like to ask a couple favors of you." Vignar smiled. "After clearing that place without losing even one man, and then bringing this forge to my attention, I think a favor or two is more than warranted." "I promised my wife that we would go to Riften together... To see her family. I'd like some time off to go do that. I don't know how long the trip will be." The Jarl waved his hand. He'd have allowed something as trivial as this even if he didn't feel indebted to do so. "Consider it done. What else was there?" "I would like to go and use the Lunar Forge to make a weapon." "That would be quite the trip for one weapon. Are you sure? You have my permission to use the Skyforge if needed. My brother shouldn't mind." "No, I am certain. The Lunar Forge is more fitting, and admittedly, I want to get a chance to try it out for myself." Vignar nodded. "Well I can hardly say no. You took the damn place. Go ahead, you can use the forge." Boldir stood up. "Thank you my Jarl. Now, if that's all, I've got some family matters to attend to." "Say no more Boldir. Trust me, I know how those can be." the Jarl chuckled to himself and picked back up the Lunar blade, examining it carefully as Boldir headed downstairs. *** Iron-Brow home "Do you have any idea worried I was?!" Carlotta was furious. More so than she could ever in her life remember being. She'd decided not to open up the stand today, opting instead to stay home for her talk with Mila, which Boldir'd convinced her to put off the night before. "I-" Mila stammered "No! You don't! If you did, you would never have done it!" "We just wanted to-" "Wanted to watch?! Mila, you're twelve! You almost got killed!" Mila's upset face twisted to one of anger. "I'll be thirteen in four days, and no I didn't! I saved Lucia!" "And why did she need saving in the first place, hmm? Going there was dangerous and stupid for all of you." Carlotta sighed. "You know I could expect this from Braith, and even Lars or Lucia, but you? You have never been one to go so strongly against the rules before. What happened?" "Nothing happened mom! I just wanted to see papa fighting the bandits!" "And you knew that I would never allow you to do that." Mila looked at the floor, once again looking guilty. "Yes..." "Then you knew you'd be punished for it." "Yes." the girl mumbled. A cool air rushed into the room as the door opened, causing both girls to look up when Boldir stepped in. There was a weary look on his face. When he saw his wife and daughter sitting at the kitchen table, he immediately knew what the conversation they'd been having was about. The guilty expression on Mila's face and the angry one on Carlotta's made it obvious. Boldir didn't see what Mila had done as nearly as big a deal as Carlotta did. Sure, it was bad, but he'd often done very similar things in his youth, so it was hard for him to stay angry at the her for it. He was more worried about her mental state from what she'd seen than he was angry for what she'd done. Though, admittedly, she didn't seem any worse for wear now. He pretended like he didn't know what was going on, and thought he'd try to get them off of it. "Can't believe how breezy it is for this time of year. Can you?" He crossed the room and hung his cloak on a wall rack. "It's that north wind I tell ya. It's been blowing colder than usual. Even so, it's been a long time since I remember Last Seed being this cold. I'll be glad to be in front of the warm forge." The cold didn't really bother Boldir, but he knew that mentioning the forge would catch their attention. Mila was glad to see a way out of her previous conversation. And her dad mentioning that he'd be working a forge again did honestly peak her interest. "Oooh the forge? The Skyforge? What are you making Dad?" Boldir walked over and ruffled her hair, messing it up at the top. "No, not the Skyforge, and I can't tell you what I'm making yet. It's a surprise." Mila immediately brought her hands up to her head to fix her hair. "Aww. Wait! What if I guess it right? Then will you tell me?" The girl didn't wait for Boldir to answer. "A sword! No- a new shield?" Boldir shook his head, smiling at how easy it had been to lighten Mila's mood. A quick glance at Carlotta however confirmed to him that this wasn't over yet. She was watching the exchange with a half smile, but he could see in her eyes that she knew exactly what was going on. "Is it a..." Mila looked around the room, hoping to get an idea from her surroundings. Her eyes lit up when she saw the shards of her father's old broken battle axe hanging on a plaque above the front door. That's it! "You're gonna fix your axe aren't you?!" Boldir's smile faded a bit. He could easily fix the axe, but he wasn't going to. By now, it was as much for himself as it was for Carlotta. "No... It's not the axe." Mila frowned. She was a bit disappointed.That broken axe had been hanging up there ever since Boldir had become her father. The idea of seeing it made whole had gotten her excited the moment she'd thought of it. "Well you should fix it some time. It looks so cool, and I wanna swing it!" Boldir chuckled and reached up to the plaque to unlatch the metal axe handle. There was no blade on it save for the small curved point at the bottom. "Even if I did fix this axe, I doubt you could swing it yet." He twirled the long bar once in his right hand before lowering it down for Mila to hold. She reached out and took it. As soon as the bar left Boldir's hand, it fell from her grip. "It's heavy!" Mila exclaimed as she knelt down to pick it back up. She hadn't expected the bar alone to weigh so much. She wrapped both her hands around it, towards the top end, and lifted. She grunted as the bar came up, but only her end. The other was still laying on the ground. "Whoa! You use this to fight?" "Used." said Boldir, taking the bar back up. "Used it for a long time. And it's supposed to be heavy. Makes it easy to chop with." "Was it heavy to you at first too?" Boldir shook his head. "No" he confessed, "but it did feel strange. Up until I'd started using that axe, I'd only ever fought with one handed swords and axes. Came quickly and naturally to me though. Most weapons I've used have. In fact, my first Commander, Ol' Corpsey said..." Boldir stopped himself. He didn't want to get onto the topic of his affinity for the soldier life. Not in front of Carlotta, who he'd given all that up for. He lifted the bar back up to the plaque and hung it up. "So do you give up?" "Not yet!" Mila looked around the room again, then started thinking about things made of metal. Not much came to mind. Practically everything in Whiterun was made of wood or stone. Carlotta had been watching the exchange in silence. She'd been angry at first. She knew all too well that Boldir had intentionally come in and changed the subject. But as she watched the way he played with and tested Mila, Carlotta couldn't help but lighten up to a better mood. He had a way of doing that to her. What Mila had done was bad, and there was still a punishment to work out, but that could wait. She'd let the two have their moment. Raising from her seat, she headed for the door to the stair room, turning around when she got there. "You two can go ahead and have your fun. I'm going to go work on my healing." she said. "Phah!" Boldir grinned. "Take it outside. We don't need that pansy magic stuff in our house, do we Mila?" A smile spread across Carlotta's face at Boldir's joke. "When you burn yourself at the forge, you'll be glad I know it. And you owe your life to it if I'm not mistaken. One of your Stormcloak friends saved you with that "pansy magic stuff". Speaking of which, I'd like to meet your mage friend some time. Not a lot of those in the Stormcloaks. He's gotta be interesting." "Point taken." admitted Boldir. "As for Witchie, I wouldn't call him my friend so much as my ally. And trust me, you don't want to meet him. Not that I could find him anyway." "Why wouldn't she want to meet him?" asked Mila. "Is he mean?" "Not as far as I could tell." Boldir said. "But that doesn't mean he's the type of person I'd trust with my family." "He can't be worse than that one guy." said Carlotta. "What was his name again? The one that came shortly after the wedding." "Trieg? He's not so bad." answered Boldir. "Admit it. You just didn't like the smell... Or how loud he was." "I liked him." said Mila. "He was funny!" Carlotta looked at Mila. "I hope you don't meant that. A girl your age shouldn't even get the jokes he made." Turning back to Boldir, she said, "I'm sure this Witchie is at least better for conversation than Trieg. At least unlike any of your other friends, he could tell me what I'm doing wrong with this healing spell." Carlotta left the room, trying in vain to produce a ball of magic in her hand. "I'll be upstairs if you need me!" she shouted back to them. Boldir smiled at the thought that anyone could see Witchie as good for conversation. He turned back to Mila as Carlotta exited the room. "So where's that wooden sword of yours?" he asked. The girl smiled. "Hold on!" she got up and ran to her room, returning with the small wooden sword. The end of it had a faded red stain on it. Boldir took it and looked it over. "How does this feel to you Mila? Is it heavy enough?" Mila shrugged. She didn't know much about weapons. Last night with the bandit had been the first time she'd ever used one outside of a game. "It isn't heavy at all." "Are you comfortable with it?" The girl looked confused. "It's just a toy you know." Boldir handed the sword back. "I know, and you used it like a real weapon last night." He wasn't going to play around with her, or treat this like a game. "Mila, you're turning thirteen in a few days, and no matter how much your mother and I would like for you to remain a child, you won't. That man you stabbed, what you saw me do to him, no one your age should have had to see that, and you've barely said a word about it since. Does your mother know?" Mila shook her head. "No. She doesn't. And I haven't talked about it because it doesn't bother me. He deserved it." She felt bad, because she was lying. Mila had covered it up throughout the day, but she still couldn't stop picturing the look of agony the man had worn as her father tortured him. That face had kept her up late last night, and followed her into her dreams when she finally did manage to fall asleep. Boldir knew that unless Mila was the toughest child in Skyrim, she was lying. It didn't matter how brave you are. Seeing something like that for the first time at such a young age isn't something you can just walk away from and forget. "Yes, he did. But what I did wasn't right, and I can't let you think for one moment that it was. If a man is bad, then what are the good people supposed to do about him?" "They're supposed to stop him from doing bad things." answered the girl. "That's right." he said. "But the moment we stoop so low as to go beyond doing just that, we lose ourselves. We become just as bad as the people we're stopping." Boldir paused for a moment before continuing. What you saw me doing out there, that wasn't right. I should have just killed him. I messed up. Do you understand?" "I understand." and she did. Mila couldn't imagine for a second that doing such things to anyone was right, and it helped that her father was admitting it. She looked at him curiously. "How many times have you messed up before?" Boldir hadn't expected that question to pop up. Though he should've, as Mila had a habit of always asking questions that he didn't know how to answer. He didn't say anything at first, and merely looked down at the floor. He had always had his lines, and more than a few times, he'd crossed them. Sometimes, it had been necessary, war had called for it. Though, at other times, like last night, it had been completely uncalled for. Maybe my lines aren't where I think they are. Finally, after several moments, he looked up at her. "I don't know. All I know is that I don't plan on ever doing it again." Mila and Boldir sat in silence for several minutes, each reflecting on what they'd talked about. Finally, Boldir broke the silence when he noticed the red tip on Mila's wooden sword. "You know, my next letter to Baldur will have to detail what you did with his present. He'll be overjoyed to hear that his niece is getting good use out of it." "He won't be mad that I snuck out?" "Getting mad is me and your mom's job. Baldur'd be angrier at me for it than at you. But I've gotta tell him. It makes for too good a story not to. And your uncle loves a good story." Mila smiled with pride. She was glad that her father wasn't as upset over what she'd done as her mother. He even seemed a little proud of her. "But if you do it again, I'll personally whoop your tail all the way back to the house. Got it?" Her smile faded, but only a bit. "Got it." "Good. Now I'm going to be leaving town every morning for the next few days. You need to stay out of trouble while I'm gone." Much to Mila's protest, he ruffled her hair again before heading upstairs to speak with Carlotta.

Lorgar, Gracchus Evening, Imperial city, Lorgar walked into his office, drenched in his black cloak. He still had his hood up, cloaking his face in darkness and shadow. He had his large ebony greatbow strapped to his back, along with his runesword. Unexpectdly, General Ceno was there, waiting for him. Lorgar said, in a cold and emotionless voice, a farcry from his normal voice pattern, "What do you want?" Gracchus sat in a chair, having let himself in when he realized Lorgar wasn't here. His red cape draped over the chair, with it's black dragon plastered on its center. His tall leather boots where strapped on his upper calf, and his similarly black pants were tucked in the top. The blue collared shirt he had on had the top botton open, revealing the top of his chest. Gracchus had one leg on top of the other, his right hand resting on the top leg, which was also the right leg. He turned to Lorgar. "Is that any way to greet a friend?" The Lord General's brow wrinkled as he addressed the bow and sword he'd noticed when the Spymaster entered. "Where exactly were you? Hunting?" "You could say that." "The Bloodworks?" "That and something else." Lorgar repeated his early question, "Why are you here?" Gracchus sighed, a deep, heavy thing. "To check up on you, see how you're doing. I'd heard you were fairly busy, and figured you could use a visit from a friend." "I appreciate it." He simply said Gracchus looked back towards the desk, piled high with parchments, probably reports and order. He motioned towards it, now looking back to Lorgar. "So, I take it you're busy?" "Very." Gracchus nodded, but a slight frown crossed his face. "Dales...erm...excuse me, I mean did the Empress give you all this work? Surely this isn't the norm. Maybe you need to hire someone to help you sort through this mess." "You could say Empress Dales gave me all this work, yes. Though some of it is for my wedding." "I'd heard you were getting married. The Countess of Chorrol, I believe?" "Yes. The girl you meet at the Inn." Lorgar, without bothering to take off his cloak, sat down at his desk, and began to look at some documents. "Very expensive." "Most weddings are." Gracchus watched Lorgar sit down, then continued. "So, I got a visit from Skjari. He said you were plotting? What does he mean?" Lorgar didn't even react, he just kept looking at the documents on his desk, "That is so. I'm not here, so what exactly is happening? Why are you two at odds?" Gracchus leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "You already believe him, there's no point trying to tell you my side." "If I believed him, I wouldn't be here talking to you. I just want to help Lorgar, but I don't know who is telling the truth." Gracchus' eyes were sorrowful and hurt, as if it pained him to see the Empress' advisers pitted against each other. "He said something over the top right? Something along the lines of me thinking he's using magic to control Dales, correct?" "Yes, it was along those lines. A little far fetched, but after some thought I could see it being true. What proof do you have?" “I don’t think that†Gracchus brow winkled quizzically. "Well them what are you at odds over?" "I heard him whispering things to Dales, I confronted him about the "advice" he was giving her, and he seemed not to appreciate it." Gracchus nodded, his brow still wrinkled, somewhat unsure if what Lorgar was telling him was the truth. "This Empire rests on the backs of all of us, you three especially. You must work this out, for the Empire and for its people." "That's not how it works." Lorgar contuined to look at his documents. "Duty, General. That's all that matters. You cant handle the truth of the situation, you know why? Because you don't have the stomach to do what is absolutely necessary, for what the duty that this knowledge requires of you. You have a kind heart. I don't." "You are probably right. I may not know politics, or the scheming required for it, but I know duty. I've served just as long as you, since I was able to join. And our duty is to protect Dales, from threats foreign and domestic. That includes you, me, Skjari, Tullius, all of us. If any of us pose a threat to the Empire, then it is the others duty to stop them. I've killed men too Lorgar, including men of my own who deserted, and although my heart is kind, I can stomach whatever it is is going on." Gracchus stood, his cape fluttering up behind him. He slammed his hands on the table, and raised his voice. "Our DUTY is to the Empire, to Dales, and to our people! Now let me help you!" Unfazed by the general aggressiveness, Lorgar continued in a stoic voice, "Answer this question then, if duty is so important to you. If duty, made you, would you be willingly to torture a civilian to make a rebel soldier talk? A woman? Would you then, after receiving the information needed, stuff the soldier in an oak tree, and set fire to it while he's alive and breathing? Would you lock his wife in there farm, and set fire to the building, all the while the person in the oak can hear her scream as her flesh is consumed? to send a message to the rest?" "Would, you go that far for duty? To put a swift end to a conflict? Would you betray all of your values to protect the empire? What are you willingly to sacrifice for the empire? Would you, General Ceno?" "No, because I would find an alternate route. My duty is to win, yes, but to not sacrifice the humanity of my men and myself. We must not become monsters for a quick victory. What would our men think, to be eternally scared of their leader because he burns men and women alive, to what, prove a point? What point? That he's a monster? No, I will do my duty, but not that way. That way does nothing but prove you are heartless and a monster. I'm willing to go above and beyond, but that need not mean my humanity is sacrificed." That, actually caused Lorgar to laugh, a spine chillingly laugh, "That is were your wrong general. How many lives have you taken? Do you think those were dummies, in a practice range. There were people, people who had families, friends, loved ones. Those, and the dead person, wail in sorrow and hatred of the man who killed them. You being in the legion as long as you have, would have gathered alot of wailing people. They view you as a monster. But your right in away, you do have your humanity. But I don't." "That "quick victory earned" me the nickame, "Butcher of the North". And yet, my action's saved hundreds of imperial soldiers, a medal, and fame in the legion and at home. The truth of the matter is, we are monsters, and yet were not monsters. It depends on the view point of the person calling you "a monster" or not "a monster" He went back to reading a document, before signing it and speaking again, "But I bore of philosophical discussion, yes, what he said was true. He has a binding spell over Dales, which forces her to follow his ever order." Gracchus had sat down as Lorgar began talking, losing his angry desire. "Aye, it seems we are all monsters as not monsters at the same time." Gracchus sat his right leg on the left, adopting the pose he had web Lorgar first entered. "Why did you not just say that? Again, I have to ask what proof you have." "I assisted him by delivering him Dales in the first place. I have all the original letters here." He pointed to a small pile of scrolls and parchment. Gracchus didn't try and hide the shock, clearly taken aback that Lorgar assisted the man he now was opposed to. "Why, what made you sacrifice her to him, so she could be a slave to the whims of a man who we know nothing about?" "Duty. He said some convincing words to me, and most of them were true. Plus, he wanted to kill her. Knowing the threat the dominion opposed, turning Dales into his weapon seemed logical. It also protected her from being killed by him." Gracchus grabbed the letters, carefully going over every detail to make sure Lorgar's story checked out. He recognized the handwriting of the court mage, so that was not in question. They seemed to check out, so he sat them back on the desk and looked back to Lorgar. "That sounds....reasonable. But how do we fix it, or better yet why do we need to fix it? Is her life in danger from the bonding?" "If you understand duty, then you know we both swore an oath to protect and serve her majesty. This bonding get's rid of her freedom, and puts her at potential risk. Furthermore, the mage is in control of the entire empire, does that not sound disturbing to you? "If you are so worried about it now, then maybe you shouldn't have agreed to it in the first place. I'm a mage, not the caliber Skjari is, but if what I'm getting about the binding, then it could permanently injure her soul if we don't properly extract it. We could end her life, which wouldn't solve anything as it would take us back to the delima of letting him kill her. He can't reign without her, as the people wouldn't back him. Maybe that is best, as it would remove him from power and free her." "I considered the possibility. But that would be betraying the oath I swore. But then again, I swore to protect the empire, and I might have to kill Dales to do that, Lorgar looked away, "I recommend now, for you to retire and be happy with your inn-keeper. Leave this business NOW. You don't want to get involved with either me or the mage." Gracchus rose, ready to leave. "I can't do that Lorgar. And not because of this, but because there is another storm brewing, and I fear it will be fiercer than the last." The Lord General stuck his hand out, waiting for Lorgar to return the handshake. Lorgar didn't return it, but simply said, "Make the water run red, General." Gracchus dropped the hand, before turning and leaving. "I will be leaving for Hammerfell soon. Hopefully I can discover something soon. Good luck Lorgar." Gracchus left, his cape filling up the door frame behind him. Lorgar said, under his breath, as the general left "Goodbye my friend, this is most likely the last time we meet." And with that Lorgar called in a messenger to deliver a letter to Baldur Red-snow.

Eduard Laenius- Dawnstar Sanctuary, Early Morning Eduard silently entered the Sanctuary. Hopefully he actually does have something for me, he thought as he approached Nazir. "Alright, I'm here." "Indeed. Good timing too. I just got some information straight from the Listener on a contract." "Is that so? Well then, please go on." "Well, I don't personally know too much. Only the words given to me by the Listener. Anyways, the message was as follows: You are to go to Candelhearth Hall in Windhelm to speak with a nobleman named Levik Long-Swing." "I see. And you want me to go and meet the contact." "Yes." "Sounds like a plan. I'll see you another time Nazir. I've got some stuff to take care of if I am going to be leaving town for an extended period of time." "Bye then Eduard. Have a bloody good time." Oh... I think that one actually hurt. That's probably how he kills his targets. Horrible puns. Eduard left the Sanctuary, still shaking his head at Nazir's jokes. ~~--~~-~~--~~ 3 hours later ~~--~~-~~--~~ Eduard entered his house, and was greeted by Jon. "Welcome back. By the look on your face... you have to leave?" "Yes. I'm going with Excuse A, as it seems I will be leaving for a while. And considering that they would send me off this fast after joining, leaving will probably be pretty common." "Right. I figured you would use it, so I already took the liberty of planting the rumor. So all you have to do is go tell whoever you need to tell. If they ask anyone, they will either confirm it, or not know one way or the other." "I can always count on you Jon. Good work." "Thank you. Oh, just out of curiosity, where exactly are you going?" "So far all I know is that I'm going to Windhelm, to meet someone." "Who?" "Levik Long-Swing. Got anything?" "Can't say I do. I'd look into it, but you'll have met him by then." "Right. I had better get going, tell Livia what's going on. Karita too." "Alright. You go do that. Oh, the message bag is in your room. You should grab it, make you look legitimate. It even has a few letters in it." "Okay," Eduard said as he made his way to grab the bag. "Bye Jon." "Bye Eduard." Eduard arrived at Livia's house, and knocked on the door. She's probably not going to be too happy about this. The door opened, but to Eduard's surprise, Liv wasn't the one answering the door. "Hey Eduard!" "Karita. Good to see you! Is my sister home?" Ugh. A little unexpected, but I guess this will knock them both out with one visit. "Yes, she is. Why?" "I need to speak with her." "Alright. You want me to grab her?" "I can just come in. Besides, I need to speak with you as well." "Oh... alright. Is something wrong?" "No, not at all," Eduard said as he entered the house. "Livia! Eduard's here! Says he wants to talk with you." "Oh, alright! I'll be right down." Not long after that, Livia came bounding down the steps. "Hey Eduard! What brings you here?" "I needed to tell you both something." "Yeah? What is it?" "I'm going out of town for a while." "For what," Livia said with a concerned look on her face. "Trust me. It's not for business." "Okay, then what is it for?" "I decided to take up the courier business semi-part time." Karita was obviously puzzled by what was taking place. "Courier? Why? I thought you were basically retired." "I didn't take it for the money. I took it so I can get out of town every once in a while." "Do you not like it here?" "No. It isn't that. I really enjoy this place. Very good place to live, and has some very enjoyable people. It's just that I'm restless. I need to get out every now and again. And this part time job allows for me to do that." "Why don't you just leave? There isn't really a need to make it a job, is there?" Livia answered that question for Karita. "He would never pass up the chance to make money while he's enjoying himself." "Indeed. If I'm going out of town anyways, why not make myself some coin?" "I see. How long will you be gone?" "At this point, I'd say a few weeks." "That's not too bad." Liv spoke up, obviously not as accepting as Karita was being. "How often is this going to be happening?" Of course you would. "Hopefully not too often. But being a part-time thing, I don't really know when I'll get work, and when I'll be free. I should be in town enough though." "Whatever you say Eduard." "I promise I won't be gone all the time. But sometimes it can't be helped. Anyways, I need to grab my equipment. Can't travel this land without some form of defense." "Right. Well... bye Eduard. Be careful." "You'd better be careful Ed," Liv added. "You know I'm careful, Liv. And thanks Karita. I'll see you two soon. I would write you, but then I would have to deliver them as well." That got a small laugh out of Karita. No such luck with Livia, however. "Bye," said both girls, almost in unison. Wow. That went pretty darn well, Eduard thought as he left Livia's house to retrieve his equipment. And Karita, she seemed generally okay with me leaving every now and again. Maybe this could work out. Good. Because I didn't get to close the deal the first time. After Eduard had retrieved his equipment, he headed out of Dawnstar, towards Windhelm.

Maggie Imperial City afternoon Maggie sat at the desk in her house, flipping through her journals. Her father might take away her publisher and printing press, but he couldn’t stop her from writing. Even if he destroyed every quill and piece of paper or parchment in Cyrodiil, she would still be able to write stories in her head. She would write another book. No publisher would survive the Order’s onslaught, but she would find a way to get it out to the public, even if she had to give it away. Maggie felt that if she didn’t do this, she would die. She would want to die. Thus, she was flipping through the journals of her years in the south, looking for story ideas. Her eyes fell on a name, Gedras... whatever had become of that creature. He wouldn’t be happy about the Thalmor being chased out of Cyrodiil back to his hunting grounds. She would have to ask Skjari how progress on the Tower Scrolls was coming, and see if the little rat had tried checking in there. Maggie thought back to the day she had met him. In her exile in the lands of southern Tamriel, Maggie's Dominion contacts had become useful to set up a series of missions against upstart clans that had been using the empire's weakness to encroach on territory where they didn't belong. Accompanied by ten nightblade guards, she had elected to go herself on an especially dangerous mission, sensing that something more than just mass murder of the Order’s enemies might come from it. *** "How much further, Taeren?" "Not long, not long." The once-Bosmer was stunted even for his kind, a loathsome creature, almost feral. His skin had deep wrinkles and his eyes were unnatural, glowing red. Normally Maggie would have shunned such company, but they were beyond civilization now, in the deep forests of Valenwood, and this lonely worm knew the area. "He's been saying that for half an hour," Maggie muttered to her nightblade companions. The land began to slope up, and ahead Maggie could see the ruins of a deserted tree village. Old wooden platforms and shacks were built on the sturdy limbs. After the ravages of the faction fighting that had led to the Dominion takeover, many villages such as this were left full of ghosts, literal and figurative. From that direction came a loud, bone-chilling shriek. It didn't sound like a ghost, but neither did it sound like an animal. The Bosmer guide had stopped in his tracks. "Screamers," he breathed, obviously terrified. "Screamers?" Maggie demanded. "What are those?" "Imga vampires." "You said there were only Keerilth." The Keerilth were bad enough. Mist vampires, they were called. When attacked, they could vaporize into mist and re-appear a short distance away. They had been moving north, into the Nibenay basin, taking over Order territory. If the Valenwood clans were uniting, however, then this was more than just a vampire turf war. It could become a real war, with Cyrodiil's populace at its mercy. That would rouse the hunters. "Screamers, very bad!" Taeren was saying. A moment later he darted into the brush and disappeared from sight. This was not going as planned. Not at all. Maggie turned to the head nightblade. "We only need the Keerilth leader, remember that. It need not be a massacre. When he's dead, we can leave. Or we'll talk to him first, if he's willing." According to Maggie's information, the clan's elder had died or gone feral fifty years before, giving an opportunity for a younger vampire named Gedras. He had been imprisoned by the Thalmor, who cut off the tops of his ears as torture and to mock him for what they considered mixed blood. Another vampire had turned him while in prison, and with the new powers he was able to escape. "Watch the trees," she said to the nightblade, then cast invisibility and levitated off the ground. She wouldn't be able to hold both spells for long, but hopefully long enough for the "screamer" scouts to be eliminated. What followed was a slaughter. The reason for Taerena’s horror soon became apparent to her. The Imga vampires had razor-sharp talons and fangs the size of Maggie’s hand. They also had incredible strength even by vampire standards, and were merciless. As Maggie’s guard contingent dwindled, she was forced to reveal herself and use her remaining magicka to rally them and weaken the bleeding Imga. The largest of them, seeing her casting, turned and came hurtling towards her. Maggie drew her sword with one hand and with the other cast telekinesis on the blood-drenched nightmare. Vampires were immune to paralysis, but she could at least keep him suspended for a time. Enough time for her to step forward and drive her sword through the creature’s open maw. With her other hand she gathered magicka, then intensified the telekinesis spell, sending the ape hurtling backwards into a tree. He hit it with a crunch, and slid slowly downward, streaking the bole with red. Then an unnatural calm settled over the forest. Maggie rejoined her remaining guards, who were even paler than normal. "Regrettable." Glancing around the forest, Maggie felt menace even from the trees. Maybe especially from the trees. "We're here for Gedras," she said aloud, guessing that the vampire leader had other ways of hearing that didn't require the tops of his ears. "We only want to talk." There was a thick silence, then the air between Maggie and her guards appeared to fog. A Bosmer materialized, with stringy dark hair and the telltale cropped ears. His voice dripped with spite. "You don't appear interested in talking. What do you want, Cyrodiil?" “Less of this.” Maggie gestured around to the bodies littered on the forest floor. “Your friends left us little choice.” Gedras’ hostile expression lightened, and his lips quirked in a smile. “Not my friends. Did me a favor. Those screamers were starting to act like they were boss. That’s the only reason we’re talking.” “Then let us do each other more favors. I was sent to kill you, but you seem a reasonable sort. I would prefer to work out a less permanent solution to our problem.” “Why should I care about your problems?” “Didn’t I just say that I was sent to kill you? Even if I didn’t succeed, there would be others eventually. You are moving into territory that belongs to the Order.” “The Thalmor are hunting us. Since they’re not at war with Cyrodiil, they’re getting better at it. I don’t want your precious lands. I just need to be able to move, and your border is an inconvenience.” Maggie raised a brow. “Raise the ire of the Order and you’ll have rather more than inconvenience to deal with. But, I see your point. You are not seeking to claim territory permanently then?” Gedras looked disgusted. “This is my forest. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t leave it.” “Very well. You need flexibility to move across our borders when the Thalmor are on your tail. I will grant it, but in exchange I need something from you. Information. I want to know everything you know and can find out about Thalmor movements in Valenwood and eastern Elsweyr.” “Cats not part of the deal. Hate cats. Fur in my mouth, moon sugar in the blood, pfeh!” Maggie smiled at this unique vampire problem. “I thought you wanted room to maneuver? If the Thalmor learn your patterns, they will get you sooner or later. Range out further and you have a better chance. The grasslands are wild now, there are few guards who dare travel there. As for prey, the Khajiit allow some travelers. Smugglers and the like. Be creative.” The Bosmer appeared to consider this, rubbing at one half-missing ear. “Alright. Deal. Now get out and stay out. No more Order hunters.” “I’ll see to it.” Maggie took out some paper and wrote a few lines on it. “There are your contacts in the Nibenay. Check in at least once every few months or I’ll assume you’re going back on our deal. This...” She drew out a small scroll case from her pack, and opened it up to reveal a scroll shimmering with magicka. “This is for emergencies only. Massive troop movements, that sort of thing. This will go to the Mede emperor’s court wizard, not to me. Write your message on the scroll and include this code.” She showed him some gibberish numbers and letters on a piece of paper included with the scroll. “The moth paper will do the rest. You might get instructions back, as well. Obey them if you can, but it's not material to our deal." The Bosmer appeared disgusted at all this, but he was obviously intelligent and understood it. “You’re lucky I hate Thalmor more than imperials.” “You’re lucky I dislike murder as a means of solving problems. Remember, Gedras. Though you’re aiding the Order and the empire, it was I who spared your life.” “Hmph. That goes both ways. What’s your name, Cyrodiil?” “Magdela Bathory.” ”The novelist?” Maggie laughed. “If I had known you were a fan, I’d have brought a signed copy as a down payment for your assistance.” “Don’t bother,” the Bosmer replied dismissively. “Are we done here?” “I hope that we’re only beginning.” *** Gedras’ story of torture and escape from Thalmor prison would make the good beginnings of a story, Maggie thought. Of course, in the book he couldn’t be a vampire. She had had enough trouble over that sort of thing. And he would have to be an imperial. Imperials couldn’t accept a story where they were not the hero. Maggie began jotting down ideas, but was soon interrupted by one of her guards. “My lady, a message came for you. Your brother is waiting for you in the palace courtyard.” Jem. His presence in the city could only mean one thing. “I’ll be right there, thank you,” she told the guard. Maggie then spent an hour writing down story ideas. Her father’s lap dog could wait.

Lorgar (Darkened Archer), Samuel, Tullius, Imperial City, Afternoon, A column of soldiers marched behind a casket, in the rain. Inside the casket, were the remains of General Marius Imperius, of both the Stormcloak army and imperial Legion. As to represent his two factions, the symbol of the bear and the dragon were both on the flag covering the casket. Carrying the casket, were four palm bearers. High-General Gaius Tullius , Lord-Major Lorgar Grim-maw, Lieutenant-Commander Marie Imperius, and High-Captain Titus Imperius marched silently, the sounds of there boots being muffled by the rain. Dozens of people were attending the funeral, from Nobles to merchants. In the shadows nearby one could see a pale Colovian stand, with a blade at his side and his hands folded behind his back. Samuel's eyes followed the casket carefully, but otherwise stood still. Onward was a deep grave, were they would put the casket. The four palm bearers face's filled with stoicism, as well as the assembled troops behind. All members of the sixth legion. Empress Dale's herself was attending, clad in a black dress, and looked with sadness from the side. One the group got to the grave, they slowly brought the casket down, and as they covered the grave in earth, a priest of arkay recited prayer's "Ashes we are, ashes we return. Blessing's of Aetherius upon you Ambassador Imperius." Lorgar, while not worshiping the nine divine, stood there in silence and had his head lowered in respect. Marie had her head to her father, Titus's shoulder . She was still visibly mourning along with Titus and her fiancee. Tullius's, while stoic, hand was shaking, and he looked depressed. "May you rest in peace, Marius," Samuel mumbled to himself, but remained still. He had no intention of leaving until it was over. Now, more than ever, could he see the ways this could have been prevented. A senseless death, but at least he died fighting. Or in defiance of what he perceived him to be. It didn't matter, the end result was the same. Marius was dead, needlessly. Lorgar gently put his arm around Tullius's shoulder, Tullius stared at the priest in silence, as his friend put his hand on his shoulder. He didn't want comfort. Marius was a ******* idiot...but he was his brother. "Talos bless you, Stendar bless you." The priest started to recite the names of the divine, and blessed Marius. A torn corpse doesn't need blessing... The rain falling was the ambiance of the funeral. Finally the priest bowed her head, and walked away. The ceremony was over, and the speaking part was soon going to begin. Tullius was about to follow the crowd, when he...noticed something odd. There was a pale man starring and watching the Funeral from a distance. Maybe Marius knew him? Tullius, instead of going with the crowd, decided to check the imperial man out, and he walked towards him. "Hail, General Gaius Tullius, Son of Whiterun," Samuel said as the man approached him. "Come to talk to the Lone Walker at the edge of the funeral? Not many would see a point, given the circumstances." Tullius eyed the man warily, despite them being disbanded, Tullius would always consider himself a mercenary now. He said in a somewhat coarse, but not unfriendly voice, "Hail stranger, you knew Marius?" "I did, a very long time ago. Last time I met him he was... not quite himself. Seemed troubled. Then this funeral was arranged. Any word on how he died? I've been largely left out of any details." "Ripped apart by vampires and eaten apparently." Samuel seemed surprised. "Vampires? How'd he get involved with those creatures? I thought they usually stayed away from the Imperial City. Or did he die outside the walls?" "They found his body in the Bloodworks, a known vampire nest. What he was doing down there, is anyone's guess." He eyed the man, “So, how did you know Marius?" "You mean that there is a known vampire nest under the city? I am very glad I do not live here, that would turn me paranoid beyond reason," with a gesture towards a nearby bench, he walked over to it and sat down as he continued. "I met him many years ago and we- well, we were lovers." "Lovers?" Tullius looked at him oddly, "Well, Marius always seemed too friendly with all the male officers when we were together in the third legion." "I can imagine," Samuel gave him a distant, if a bit sad, smile, as if he thought back to his time with Marius, as one would expect at a funeral. "It was over a very long time ago though, but I don't think he ever got over it. He acted like little had changed the last time we met. As if it was just to pick up where we left off." "That seems like Marius. He never forgot or forgave anything. Still, I can't believe he's dead," "I wonder why he died. Call me paranoid, but this doesn't seem to add up. He just happened to be in a known vampire nest? Even a less intelligent man would have required a good reason to go down there." "Hmmm...yes your right. While impulsive, Marius was always an intelligent and clever man. Why would he go down to a nest infested with vampires..." Tullius started to stroke his grey well-shaven beard, "Last time you saw him, was he acting strangely?" "He had started to drink a lot, and made some comments that implied that he wanted it... our past... to become the present once more. When I made it clear I had moved on, we had a falling out. Well, he hit me so I lost my balance, so I guess I was the one who fell out. Still, I wouldn't wish being killed by vampires on anyone, least of all someone I have almost only good memories of” "We use to call him "Marius the rapist" since he use to grope the boy's in our outfit, that's expected. But he punched you? Strange..." Tullius turned his head back to the crowd, which seemed to be centering around a single person, Empress Dales. "It seems like her majesty Dales is making a statement." Samuel looked over and nodded slowly. "Indeed. I think it is best for you that you leave me now, as this is not going to be pretty. If I am correct, there is going to be a spectacle and I'm going to be arrested for the murder of Ambassador Marius Imperius, on the word of a Skyrim General. Baldur Red-Snow I think, which, if I am correct, is likely to become Skyrim's new High General. As I am sure you'll understand, his word will carry more weight that that of a wanderer. Mistrusted strangers with a rocky resent past of the deceased makes for good scapegoats in times of trouble. And with the uncertainties of the realm, with no heir to the throne, the Empress will need to show strength. So long, Gaius, it was a pleasure the brief moments we had." Tullius's face filled with absolute shock, and before he could react, Empress Dales voice echoed in the area, with the rain not drowning it's noise, "Yesterday, I received a letter from General Baldur Red-Snow, a fine and honorable man in my eye's. He has given us information that link a man to the murder of Marius Imperius." She pointed her figure to the man beside Tullius, the pale Colovian, while reading out what appeared to be the letter in question, Marius is a General and a warrior at heart, Despite his flesh, his spirit was not torn apart, He donned the bear and the dragon, for to both he was loyal, His honor was of a Nord, even when his blood touched soil, He helped end the fighting and helped keep Thalmor from our shores, He helped Tullius save my life, So I say thank you once more, I wish I could be there to say these things to you, But at least I can tell his story, know my words to be true, For I know why he's dead, I know who caused it you see, So listen to my words, please listen now to me, For you see the true culprit is a man without traces, A man known as Samuel, Demon with 1000 faces, This man is why he left, at least initially, He gave him to me....so Skyrim could be free, But later he decided that Marius must die, I did not betray him for I understood not why, Marius stood up to him, that was his undoing, This is why he died, somehow that thought is soothing, For he did not bow, and neither did I, He gave me to the Thalmor, know that I do not lie, I would not kill Marius, that is why I was taken, Marius proved loyal and I was not forsaken, Yet Samuel found a way...to make this man retire, Let there be no place that he can hide in the Empire, This is a call to action, a warning if you will, Keep your weapons close to you, and beware that eerie chill, For you are not paranoid, unsafe it is in all places, For long is the reach of the worm, the Demon with 1000 faces. A description is pointless to give, but I'll try anyway. Colovian man brown hair, no unusual features to speak of. Appears to be in his 40s. Makes deals with influential people. I suggest you kill this traitor on sight if you think you know him. But then again, this isn't Skyrim. Ignore his threats, promises, reassurances that you'll pay if he dies, just kill him. Anyone who works with Thalmor willingly deserves death. -General Baldur Red-Snow Eternal friend of Marius, Eternal enemy of Samuel At those words, around two dozen soldiers, 4th legion and Pentuilas Occulatus, surrounded the man, with there swords drawn on him, "You seemed shocked, Gaius," Samuel gave him a smile as he unfastened the sword at his side, still in the sheath, and gave it to him. Four daggers were also pulled out and handed over to the aging General. "As I said, it was a pleasure to be officially introduced, but I think it is time for you to leave. These soldiers have a job to do, after all." Tullius's shocked face, soon twisted into an expression of absolute fury, as he threw the belt of knives onto the ground and pushed Samuel to the earth with a shove of pure force. Samuel shook his head, but didn't seem bothered by what had happened or what was about to happen. "Well then, I assume the feeling is not mutual. A shame really. I guess I'll see you in prison, when you come to try to get me to tell you exactly why Marius was down in the Bloodworks." Tullius pinned him to the ground, and threw a punch right into Samuel's jaw that shouldn't have as much strength as it did, He screamed out, "YOU FUCKER!!!" Placing his feet under Tullius' stomach and taking a hold of his neck, Samuel used his legs to flip the angry General off him, who landed on his back, before he got to his feet. He rubbed his jaw. "I'm sorry, Gaius, but I am not interested in a fistfight. If you want to take out your anger at me, please do it the proper Imperial way; by waiting until I am in prison so no one will care what you do to me anyway and I can't fight back." Samuel turned to the surrounding soldiers, with a disappointed expression. "This is how the Empire's finest act? Staling an apprehension because someone throws a tandem at the accused? I thought the Empire was supposed to have a Rule of Law, where the citizens themselves cannot just take vengeance themselves, and the law enforcers are the ones to deal with such a situation as this," he raised his voice, making sure Dales heard him. "Or is this how the New Dynasty is going to rule? You are not even going to hold a trial before branding me guilty? If that is true, Empress, then Ulfric Stormcloak was indeed right when he said that the Empire no longer cared about any of its subjects." No reply came right away, letting him continue for a little longer. "Toward the end of the Septim Dynasty there was a Legion Commander on the island of Vvardenfell, named Frald the White. He sent one of his own men to protect a knight accused of murder so he could be put on trial, instead of being summary executed by the Ordinators of Vivec city on the accusation alone. Is this not the standard you should try to live up to? Is it not better to act like this honorable man, who wanted justice to be done the right way? The way that doesn't let emotional bias cloud the truth? Tell me! Does the Rule of Law mean nothing anymore?" "Say's the man who murder's a man in cold blood...your just a hippocrit" Came a cold voice. It was Lorgar. His face was much more paler then usual, and his voice and face had not a speck of emotion. "Gaius, leave him alone." Tullius responded angrily with a scream, "NO I WONT!!!" "I said leave him alone. Guards, get that man out of my sight and take him to a cell." Two soldiers pumped there fists onto there chests, "Yes sir." They aggressively grabbed Samuel by the arms. "Careful, Lorgar," Samuel replied, keeping the men from getting anywhere for just long enough to finish. "I've been accused of murder, not proven to be a murderer. You'd do well to remember the distinction, if you don't wan't to be called a hypocrite yourself." *** The cell Samuel stayed in was...pretty normal. It was clean, and had a stool to sit on. Four guards stood on duty, watching over the prisoner. A man entered the room, he was hooded and cloaked, with his face being completely obscured by darkness. The Insignia on him showed him to be a "Lord-Major". He ordered the soldiers to leave in a emotionless, and cold voice. The soldiers saluted before leaving, the man turned and faced the prisoner, "Samuel." "Lorgar." "Enjoying your stay in the imperial prison?" "Of course, it is usually rather hospitable, though you may have had a different experience. I assume you are here to see what you can do to make sure this doesn't jeopardize our contract?" Lorgar started to play with his beard under his hood, before saying, "Of late, the Empress has been piling file after file for me to work on, taking up my time considerable. Knowing who controls her... Add that to the wedding planning I have to organize, thew funeral arrangements, I haven't had time to further my goals. Meaning, Witchie has been intentionally giving me more work to occupy my time from my plans, meaning, he suspects that i'm planning something. Why is that, vampire?" "You mean apart from the fact that you've shown no competence in the arts of subtlety at all ever since you arrived in the city? I don't know how much you follow things, but half the nobles in Cyrodiil know you have some sort of grudge against him. Slightly exaggerated of course. My point is that no one are going to be surprised if they hear you moving against the court mage, thanks to your behavior at the wedding alone. The nobles of this city pick up on subconscious ques rather easily." Samuel rubbed his forehead with the expression a teacher would have when lecturing a student on something that should be intuitively obvious. "If he keeps you busy because he suspects something, it simply means he has started to listen to the nobles flocking around the palace, trying to gain favors with the new dynasty. I would expect you to meet some too, in the near future. I know little about this court mage, but from what i know I highly doubt he would take such a subtle approach if the Empress bows to his every whim. He could have you fired from your position at the snap of his fingers, no questions asked, leaving you without the resources to entice my services, in turns ruin your whole plan without any effort." "True." Samuel couldn't see threw Lorgar's darkened hood, but by his voice, he could tell his emotions were starting to change, "There's always the possibility, that you told him my plans. Measuring his power and "subtly" above my own, which is true. Demons lie, don't they?" "They do, though I don't see the point you're trying to make. Honest men lie, so what is the difference between an honest man and a demon? Answer me that, and I tell you exactly why I have no reason to betray you or help you in your attempts to fight the court mage." "There is no difference between a demon and an honest man. For honest men have demons inside them, waiting in there darkest depths to reveal themselves." "Then wouldn't demons have honest men inside them, waiting for a chance to reveal themselves? I hope you see where I am going with this. But you answered my question as well as I could expect of you, so I suppose it is my turn to answer you." He stretched out his arms in front of him, fingers woven together. A sound of the bones adjusting to the pressure filled the silence for but a moment. "I am a creature of the night, thus I cannot stand in the sun and least of all in the sun at the top of the mountain where there is not even any shade to dwindle the burning of my skin. I can near the top, but never reach it, for there is no shade. What would I have to gain by leaving the dark? I hope I am not speaking in too complex a metaphor for you to understand." "You taking about how you cant reach the top of the political spectrum, you cant hold real political or some other type of power, and why would you even need to when you thrive in shadow, correct?" "Does the phrase 'rhetorical question' even exist in your vocabulary? Yes, that is what I mean, if a bit inaccurate. I have nothing to gain from being affiliated with either you or the court mage, so I work with the one who offer payment. So far, I've yet to get any offers from your opponent." "Ah your like a mercenary then, a sword to be used to the highest bidder. Of course, the sword you are is much differnt then, say Tullius and his sons of Whiterun." Lorgar straightened out his cloak, before turning away from the man in the cell, he spoke, "Mark my words, unlike Marius, I wont make the mistake of trusting you at all, before you betray me. If you blackmail me, i'll just cut out your throat and fill your body with my ebony arrows. If I catch wind of you assisting the court mage in anyway, i'll do the same thing. I dont care what precautions or "ways" to get back at me when your dead, or how "safe" you think you are, but mark my words I will track your scent, and kill you like the little bat you are..." Lorgar called the guards back in, "Let him rot in there for six more hours, then let him go." And with that, Lorgar left the prisoner. Samuel remained at the table, calling for a quill, some ink and parchment. He had two messages to write; one for the court mage. And one for General Baldur Red-Snow. ** "Are you done soon? You told me to come in as soon as the Duke left," the jailer said, looking at Samuel from the other side other bars. Except there were no bars, only an open cell-door. "Yes," Samuel replied, looking over the messages. "Baldur Red-Snow, The next time you try to attack me through the Imperial Bureaucracy, I have an alternative procedure for you. Go to Windhelm and start to try to tear down the outer walls by hitting them with your fists. The result will be largely the same, except that you'll have a bloodied hand for your effort and that you will waste your own time alone, rather than mine as well. Also, give my sincere condolences to Admiral Rebec Red-Snow, for the confirmation of the death of her husband Toki. For all our differences, I think we can agree on one thing; Toki was a good man who deserved a better fate. Best wishes S King, I recommend that you keep your pet on a shorter leash. Her actions could have resulted in a conflict with the Order, multiplying the amount of powerful enemies in Cyrodiil by an order of magnitude. S He rolled up the scrolls and cast the usual spells on them. "Take these to the court mage of the White-Gold and to the General Red-Snow in Skyrim. I think I've wasted enough time in this prison as it is." "Sir, you've not even been here an hour. The Duke-" "The Duke can say whatever he wants to," Samuel brushed off his objection. "I'm leaving, now. Unless you intend to stop me?" The jailer, a Colovian in his late fifties, looked like he was about to say something, but instead he just shook his head and gave the prisoner a smile. "No, old friend, I wouldn't waste my time telling you what to do. Besides, I owe you."

Skjari, Gracchus Imperial City Noon Skjari was now sitting in his quarters and pondering what desperate measures Lorgar could actually take. Lorgar could always try to kill him but that most likely be the end of Lorgar's life and if not it would give him a reason to accuse Lorgar of treason. Then there was Tullius who was a close friend to Lorgar and if it came down to it, the Legion could get involved, but Lorgar and Tullius would have to be mad to go so far. But Lorgar has always been at least a little crazy. But there was one he could use to prevent civil war. Skjari rose from his chair and changed from his noble's clothes to his black robe, but he skipped the gauntlets and didn't put on the hood, he didn't show himself in public that much so no one would probably recognize him, but he kept the sword which he kept at his side at all times. He made his way through the city to the Laughing Fox and as he entered he could see that it was filled people drinking and eating, the smell of alcoholic beverages and roasted meat filled his nostrils as did the talk and loud drunken cheers fill his ears. As he made his way to the counter he could see that neither Lorgar or Tullius were in the room and the detection spell he subtly cast didn't show off Lorgar's familiar, deadric influenced presence. Which was to be expected as Lorgar was probably drowning in all the work given to him from the empress. "I'm looking for Gracchus Ceno." He said to the redguard woman behind the counter. Ena looked up at the robed man, an expression of sarcasm covering her face. "Who wants to know? I can't just give out patrons' information willy nilly." Skjari leaned closer so that the rest wouldn't hear. "The court mage." Ena's sarcastic expression was dropped, but one of minor annoyance replaced it. She stepped out from behind the counter, and led the mage up the stairs to an office on the right side, where the general and Catia sat talking. Gracchus looked up, and recognizing the robed man said to Catia, "If you'll excuse me honey, I think this must be important." Catia nodded, and Gracchus led Skjari through the door across the hall to another office, with couches and a small table. He found a seat and motioned for the court mage to do the same before he asked, "So what so you need, Skjari?" Skjari accepted the offer and sat down in a chair opposite of Gracchus, he then leaned back and put both his hands together in front of him. "How to put this?" He got a thoughtful expression for second before he continued. "You do know that Lorgar can be a bit unstable?" "Of course. Even before the incident in Skyrim he was always unstable." "Well I think he is taking it one step further. I get feeling that he going insane. He starts imagining things, he even accused me having put a spell on the empress. I think he might just jealous of me having her ear a bit more than he does. But there is something about him that..."Skjari went quiet for a couple of seconds. "I'm afraid of what he might do if he gets worse." Surely he isn't that bad, I mean he did help her gain the throne after all, as all of us did. Losing his entire unit took a toll I'm sure, and the news of Marius' death hit him hard as well. Maybe he is just traumatized, and needs some rest?" Gracchus asked almost pleadingly, but the tone of his voice said that he didn't wholly believe the words that came out of his mouth. "Maybe. But I sense that he is up to something. Hopefully nothing will come of it and he will go back to normal. But if it gets worse and he starts to truly believe in these imaginations of his... What if he starts seeing imaginary enemies? He's already thrown accusations at me." Gracchus had dropped the relaxed pose he'd adopted when he sat down, and replaced it with a pose of nervousness, as he leaned forward slightly and rested on the arm of the couch, anxious about the conversation. "Quite right...accusing people needlessly would not bode well. Have you brought this to the Empress? Maybe she should know so she can talk to Lorgar." "I haven't, yet. She got her hands full and I'd rather not take this up with her unless it became necessary. I also think that if confronted about it, he would just hide it, and maybe even worsen it. Right now I'm just hoping he will not drag anyone into this and that he will come back to his senses sooner rather than later." Gracchus rose, and walked over to a nearby cabinet. Opening it revealed it to be filled with liquor, and Gracchus brought down a bottle of brandy and a couple of glasses. "Would you like some?" "I can have a little but not too much." Skjari knocked on the right side of his forehead with the index finger. "I need to have a clear mind." "Of course." Grachus pulled the cork out, and poured an equal amount in each cup. He placed the bottle in the cabinet, and brought the glass to Skjari. "So, why are you telling me this?" Skjari accepted the glass and took a rather large sip before answering. "You've served with him in the Legion and he comes here to visit at the inn. You know him better than me and I would like you to keep an eye on him to see if he is getting worse. I would also like you to hinder him from dragging people into this if he gets worse. Especially people like Tullius, I know Tullius is a very loyal friend of Lorgar and if Lorgar drags him into his quest against these imaginary enemies..." He let Gracchus finish the rest of the sentence himself. "....War could erupt." Gracchus downed his brandy in one go, not worried about his company being offended. "I'll keep an eye on him. Maybe next time he comes here I can talk to him, figure out what's wrong." "Just be careful in how you approach, I doubt he will just open up about this, this isn't something anyone would want to admit to." He took another large sip that left just a couple of drops in the glass. "And try not to make it worse. Worst case will require that you return to your post as general just to help keep things from collapsing." Gracchus sat his glass down, and clasped his hands together. "I will be leaving for Hanmerfell in the coming weeks, so anything that happens you will have go deal with. Dales wants me to set up an ambassador exchange." "Of course. But as I said, worst case will require that you come back. Lets just hope it wont come to that. And when you speak with him, be careful about mentioning me. After the accusations I think that bringing me up in the discussion would more likely end up as fuel for this imagination of his." He then drank up the last drops of the liqueur. "I'll be sure to tread lightly. I would hope that it won't come to blows." Gracchus leaned back, letting out a sigh as he did. "Our new empire is so fragile, and to ruin it in its infancy would be tragic. These coming times will try us, and we must be prepared to weather the storm. Our empire must stand, and you and Lorgar are in the best position to keep it together, and you must try and fix this. For Dales, and for the Empire." "And I get the feeling that this is only the beginning." Skjari had the glass levitate down to the table as he rose up from the chair. "I think it's best for me to take my leave now. Goodbye." "Goodbye..." Gracchus watched as Skjari left, his faced downcast and solemn. "The Empire must stand..."

Eduard Laenius, Jon- Eduard's House, Day Eduard was busying re-reading one of his favorite books on strategy when Jon walked through the front door. "So where were you?" "The inn for a couple drinks." "It's not even noon yet. You're the only drinker I know that doesn't drink at night." "You're the only person I know that's killed someone while on a date, and the victim wasn't the date." "You've got me there. I don't know anyone whose done that either." "With all of that mess, you never really told me what you thought of Karita?" "Right. She is... absolutely wonderful. And her personality is great too. Really intrigued by her. I'm looking to meet with her again sometime." "Really? That has to be a first right? A second date for a girl Livia picked?" "Yes. That is a first. She's one for twenty-two." "Not the greatest success rate, but with you I'd say it's pretty decent." "You trying to say I'm hard to please?" Jon laughed. "No, not at all. In fact, you aren't that difficult to please. You are difficult to keep interested though. There have been many one and done relationships with you." "Usually that's all I need." "There's more to it than... oh whatever. Anyways what do you have planned today?" "Officially join the family. That's about it." "And when are you planning to do that?" "In the evening. After dinner most likely." "Sounds good." ~~--~~-~~--~~ 8 hours later ~~--~~-~~--~~ Eduard had once again made his way to the sanctuary, making sure that there weren't any followers. Alright. Guess there's no turning back from here. I'm going to be in the Dark Brotherhood. I will once again be a paid assassin. Hopefully Liv wouldn't be too mad. As he entered the sanctuary, he noticed that he wasn't bombarded by the peculiar scent that he was last time. That's odd. There's no way I'm used to that. They must have cleaned up or something. He made his way into the main room, where he was met by a group of people, most of which he recognized. The only two he didn't recognize were a jester and what appeared to be a child. Although he was sure something was up with her. Was it an illusion? He couldn't be sure. Maybe they actually did allow children in. But he doubted that. As he was analyzing the girl, Nazir began to speak. "Eduard, welcome." "Thanks. Kelvyn is dead, as you asked." "Yes. I heard he was run out of town," Nazir said with a chuckle. He can't be serious. That's his thing? I'm glad I don't live here I guess. "You could say that. Now what?" "Well you did what we asked. Very clean too. So with that out of the way, you are officially in." "Alright then." "Oh, you can grab your armor now. Why don't you have Cicero take you to it? He was wanting to speak with you anyways." Nazir pointed Eduard to Cicero, who was the jester he didn't recognize earlier. Cicero was in the back of the room sharpening his ebony blade with a rock nonchalantly with his feet up on the table he was sitting next to. He could be heard singing a little tune as he did which went along with the rhythm of strikes of the rock upon the blade as he slid it along it's night colored surface. "Tweedly dun, tweedly my! I'll cut out your bladder, it splatters my eye! I don't need vision, I smell your secretions, Your fearful reactions say its open season, My blade slides along your skin oh so pale, As I work my blade down into your entrails! So frail you are, yes! You can run! You can hide! But in the end my blade will meet your insides...." Cicero felt Eduard's approach coming from behind, out of instinct rather than anything else. When he did, Cicero ceased his sharpening and leaned back in his chair so that he was looking at Eduard while upside down. "Ooh...my...you snuck up on dear Cicero! Most impressive! Most Impressive! You WILL please our...unholy matron...So silent, your approach, yes! You will do well...." Eduard was puzzled by the jester. He sang an odd tune, and seemed distracted. But as soon as he approached, he was alerted. That's great. Another insane member of the family. And he appears more far gone than the other. Although... he doesn't seem unintelligent. Just not normal. I'll figure that out later. "Will I now? Very well. As you probably already know, my name is Eduard. You're brother over there said you wanted to speak with me, as well as lead me to my armor." "Oh yes, yes indeed! I am Cicero, the keeper of the Night Mother...your mother now! Your destiny was written in blood since the first time you pocked your little head out of your false mother's gushing bleedy womb! I saw this in you since the first time I saw you...." What in the world? Apparently he is actually a true follower of the Brotherhood. That's fine by me. It doesn't seem as if he forces everyone to be as insane as him at least. "The first time you say? May I ask when that was?" "In Falkreath, silly! Did you not see? Did you not see? Listen to your instincts! I was in Falkreath! I was disguised training a new recruit! I saw you and the strange one in action when you two assassinated that Jarl. Unfortunately for you, you were injured, but I had a good feeling about you regardless....I sent in my trainee to infiltrate your camp to better keep an eye on you. She found a girl in the camp that she looked like, killed her and took her place...remember? The healer? Hehehe! Under your nose, surrounded by foes, a dread child seeking others to spread woe! She followed you quite often...watching...waiting...waiting for you to prove yourself! And then....you did....you did! You did you did you did! You killed the Redguard! Spilled his blood in the dead of night using sweet sweet poisons to freeze his warm body.....Goooood. Good work...." Eduard was shocked, but was able to easily hide it from his face and body. It wasn't even intentional, just an instinct he had developed. Obviously I didn't see him in Falkreath. No time to inspect people then. But the healer? That's pretty weird. She was with these guys the whole time? She played the part pretty damn good. "I see. So you've had your eyes for a little while now. And yes, that kill was quite good." Unsatisfying, but very good. "I take it you handle recruitment along with being the Keeper?" "Oh, yes...yes. We've...hit some hard times..." Cicero lifted his head and buried his face in his hands and seemed to actually be weeping at this point. This however ceased abruptly as his voice switched to anger. "So now I've been forced to take on other duties as well! I was in Falkreath to look at our old Sanctuary to see if it couldn't be repaired, but alas the damn idiot nords and imperials decided it was high time to do our job for us! Do you know how many contracts we lost because the target was killed in the damn war? DO YOU?!?!? None. Hehehe! None at all. But...they could have been contracts! All those potential contracts gone! Oh well...still fun to watch, it was!" He certainly has an interesting take on the war. Almost humorous. Almost. "I see. I remember hearing about the Sanctuary in Falkreath. Nasty business that was. Good to see some of you pulled through. Now, Nazir said something about me getting some armor. You know where it is?" Cicero pointed to the room on their left, still looking at Eduard upside down. Before he could say something else, Cicero put a finger over his mouth signifying he was done speaking to him and wanted silence. Afterwards Cicero went back to sharpening his weapon while singing another tune. "I'll slice through your tendons and carve out your eyes, Plow through your marrow, cut you down to size! When it comes to mutilation there is just no other, Cicero's the best! The Keeper of our mother.... I hug her and squeeze her, keep her from freezing, Yet silence is what she gave, all the while just teasing! Let life be filled with strife, and corpses unending! Now I'm off you see...the Night Mother needs....tending....." Eduard didn't even attempt to question what Cicero did. Probably best if I don't agitate this one. He's probably one to go off the deep end, and I'm pretty sure I don't want that. He followed the jester's instructions, and found the armor in the room. It was standard Brotherhood armor, something Eduard had seen before. He put it in a small bag that he brought with him, in case he was given anything. He then made his way back to the entrance of the Sanctuary. He was going to leave without a word, but was intercepted by Nazir. "I take it you found everything alright? Along with meeting Cicero." "Yes," Eduard said, motioning at the small bag. "As for Cicero, yes I met him. Quite the character." "That is true. Now I assume you are leaving for now?" "Yes, that alright?" "Yes, although make sure you are here first thing tomorrow. Well... first thing is a bit much. Just be here tomorrow. There is the possibility that we will have something for you. Something that won't be able to juggled with dinner." "I see. I'll be here first thing in the morning. 6:00 AM most likely." "I would say that's bright and early, but it's hardly bright around that time now is it?" At least that was slightly humorous. Dry, but funny. "Very true. I better get going though. Traveling around too late at night is sure to attract unwanted attention. I'll be seeing you." "Same goes to you... brother." That's going to take a bit to get used to. With that, Eduard left the Sanctuary to return home.

Theodore, Dales The Laughing Fox, The Imperial Palace Morning Theodore grabbed the ink, quill, and parchment as he exited his room. His customary seat near the wall was empty, so he sat down and motioned for a glass of wine and some cheese. Ena brought over the bottle and poured half a glass before setting the cheese and bread down and leaving, without so much as a word. Theodore was used to the routine, as it was repeated every morning since his arrival. He dipped the quill in the dark, void like ink, and spread out the parchment as he penned the letter to his wife. Dear Elayne, How goes things back in Camlorn? I hope that Roland has taken the challenge of running things while I'm gone in stride. He's bright enough that I'm sure he'll do fine. The Imperial City is quite massive, even more so than when we visited here years ago, although the recent wars have depleted the number of young men. I have attended quite a few parties, as also made a few contacts that I believe will help us in the future should we need it. The inn I'm staying at is nice, and the other patrons are of a high regard for the most part. The politics of the Imperial City aren't quite to the standards of High Rock, but that is to be expected as we Bretons are most adept at the game of thrones. Now, enough of things here. Before I left, I heard news that your father had fallen ill. He is up in age, so I hope he does not fall to this sickness. Also, I hope Captain Vette took care of those bandits, as he had sufficient time to do so. If not, tell Roland to take care of it. Well, I have an appointment to meet the new Empress. I believe it will be mostly talk and nothing more. She seems to be a nice young lady. With love, your dearest Theodore Theodore sat the quill down, and rolled the parchment together once the ink was dried sufficiently. He packed his things and went to his room, where he stamped the letter with the wax seal he forgot to take with him. Leaving the building, he dropped the letter off to a courier service, and checked their sundial. Seeing that his appointment was soon, he left for the Imperial Palace. ******* Theodore arrived at the palace shortly thereafter, and was led to the Empress' meeting chamber by a servant. He knocked on the door, and awaited the reply. Theodore heard giggling behind the door, before the voice of a young female emerged from the room "Who is it?” Theodore straightened himself, before clearing his throat and replying. "It is Lord General Theodore Adrard, from High Rock your majesty. I have arrived for our scheduled appointment. To talk politics and such." "Ah, general. Ummm please wait a moment." Theodore heard shuffling, before hearing the Empress saying, "Please come in." Theodore walked in the room, his fancy green silken shirt almost bursting around his belly, and his black trousers form fitting as well. A matching black cape with a green bull hung on his back, as it flowed through the door frame after him. He addressed the Empress with a bow, his head bobbing low enough so that he was almost at a ninety degree angle. His voice was soft, and practiced in addressing members of royalty. "Your majesty, it is an honor and a privilege to finally meet you, face to face." Empress's dale was on a a fancy wooden couch, with her entire back was exposed. Beside her, was a very attractive, young, Breton. She had blue hair, and wore the dress of a maid. Dales gave the General a warm smile, before saying, "The honor is mine, I can assure milord. I do hope you don't mind my Maid, Miku's, presence. She's giving me a massage." The maid Miku, smiled mischievously, before bowing, "Milord" Theodore did not show any emotions at the sight of the newly crowned Empress all but makes on the table, but instead offered a reassuring nod. "If you don't mind, mi'lady, I will take a seat." "Please." Dales said to Theodore, "Can I offer you any refreshments general?" Theodore took a seat, resting his hands on the round table near the corner of the room, facing the Empress. "If it suits you, I would enjoy a glass of wine. The vintage matters not." "Miku." Miku bowed to Dales, before running along. She returned in ten seconds with a bottle. She gently poured a glass for the Breton man, and handed it to him. "Thank you Miku." Theodore took the bottle and sat it down, before swirling the wine in the glass and taking a light sip. “Exquisite." Theodore sat the glass down beside the bottle, and turned to face Dales. "So, Empress, how have you enjoyed your new found role?" "Quite Nice. Though it is quite tiring..." Theodore nodded, letting out a small chuckle. "Only through great practice is it mastered. I've had years of experience, and I still tire of it at times. It is worth it though, for your subjects." "Of course. The smiles of the common folk make it all worth while." Theodore nodded, and took another sip of wine. "You are a Breton, correct? When was the last time you visited High Rock?" "Yes I am. But I haven't visited High rock since I was five." "It is a beautiful country. The cities aren't quite as big as the Imperial City, but they are full of beautiful architecture and landscapes. I hope you get to visit there someday." "Quite. Though I prefer the confines of Cyrdoili. I visited Skyrim recently you know? "I'd heard that. Before the.....coup...." Theodore let the sentence trail off, not wanting to step on anyone's feelings. He sipped the wine, wiped his mouth, and continued. "So, I better tell you why High Rock sent me. As you know, we are independent. I say it like that, as my father in law, the king, has no desire to stay that way, although some would have us take the route Skyrim and Hammerfell did." Dales eye's sharpened, before putting her arm gently on Miku's shoulder, "We'll continue the "massage" later dear." She said in a playful voice, and wink. Miku returned the wink before bowing before both people. Dales quickly tied up the back of her dress. Her voice changed to a much more serious and stoic voice, "So general. What do you mean some? High rock permanently separating from the empire could be disastrous to Cydoili's economy, and in turn my people. I trust you'll handle these "people"? Theodore nodded at the servant girl, and listened to the tone and way Dales spoke. She seems to be extremely riled up about this, might be advantageous. "By some people, I am talking about a rather large faction of nobles. Not half, or even a third, but about one fourth of the nobles, mostly those who wish to gain something from the split, such as trade rights and paths. But, they have not taken hold as of yet. Many still respect the Empire, and you." Theodore waited to respond to her question on his handling it, as he tookl a sip of wine to think over his response. "I....could. But as you know, politics is a game of 'what can you do for me.' I am no different, as something in return would have to be assured. But I am on your side, as an Empire even more fractured would be ill advised." "So in other words "what can you do for me" is "give me something"? Dales said, smiling. But the smile was...dark. Her facial expression was cheerful, but in an odd way. Her voice changed, to powerful and commanding, the voice of a true Monarch "Or I can use my agents in your court to track down these traitors and have them assassinated." Theodore returned the smile, his a tad more cheerful. "Aww, you misunderstand my meaning. I want the preservation of the Empire, but to exert myself in advising these people that their ideas are wrong would be taxing and time consuming, so I only wish for due compensation. Assassinating them would be ill advised, as it would show the tyranny of you and the Empire, and might spur them ever onward. Subtley is key, I think, in this situation." "Then what do you propose dear general?" "We wait. My father in law is ill, and he will not make it, I'm afraid. This will open up the Daggerfall Lordship, as well as his position as king. He has no male heirs, but his oldest of the two daughters he has is married to a lord. I am married to the younger of the two, putting me in line after him. I am not sure where his allegiances lie, but rumor has it he is an 'Independent' as they are being called. Very unoriginal, I know. If it suits you, assassinating him may be an option. I have no love for him, arrogant man he is, and foolish to boot. My wife will not shed a test at her sister's passing either, as she was a bully and pompous nitwit. Elayne, my wife, is the favorite of their father as well. That, dear Empress, is my plan." "Let Nature run it's course? Simple, but very practical. If those two do cause problems, we can stick a knife threw there throat." "I don't plan on either lasting that long. Your assassination idea has sparked a thought of my own. The Dark Brotherhood is an option, one that I might add is very hard to trace. They are only operable in Skyrim though, so that poses a problem. All we would have to do is take care of Lord Aleron Rolston, the husband of my sister in law I mentioned, thus securing me the throne, as Elayne's sister is wholly unfit to rule, a trait known to all in High Rock. Then once High Rock is set to be returned to the Empire, after the next war I presume, I retain the position but instead be the Imperial Governor. How does that sound?" "That sounds...fair. Alright my dear general we have a plan. I'll let you handle the fine details, since it's your family and people you'll be taking care of." Dales stretched out, she seemed...anxious. She said to the general with a warm smile "If you wouldn't mind milord, since our business is of course now concluded, If I could excuse myself. I do still have...a massage scheduled for today." "Of course, your majesty. Although there is one more detail I would like to iron out, one somewhat unrelated to our previous business." Theodore finished off the glass of wine, and sat it across the table from him. Dales raised her eye brow, before nodding and sitting back down on her couch, "Yes, dear general?" "As I walked in today, a thought occurred to me. You are not married, nor engaged that I know of, and neither is my son. But then I walk in and see the massage, and the thought changes. Your preferences seem to prohibit you from fully loving any man you marry, but you still must produce an heir, so why no cement the age of Breton rule by having said heir with a Breton. The Nord had their turn with Talos, and the Imperial's their with the Medes. Now it is our turn to rule the Empire. What say you, your majesty?" Theodore smiled softly, but not in a conniving or mischievous way. Dales smile remained on her face but there seemed to be...mockery or amusement of the idea in her eye's. "I'm sorry General, but I have to say no. The elder council and the nobility expect an imperial heir, and I must provide one from having an imperial husband." "It is as I figured. But the notion remains, should the Elder Council fail to find a suitable...suitor. The time for Nords and Imperials on the throne is long past mi'lady, and now would be the perfect time to place the Breton race at the forefront of the Empire. But your wish is my command, and so I shall return to my room at the Fox." Theodore rose and bowed, just as deeply as when he entered, and headed for the door. As he reached for the handle, he stopped and turned around. "Oh, and don't worry, your preferences shall remain between us. I am not one to blab secrets my on allies. Farewell your majesty." Dales stretched out a little, before leaving the room to go to her "massage"

Lorgar Grim-Maw Imperial City Evening Lorgar buried himself in his documents, intending to work as much as he possible could. He wrote numbers, signatures, statements, reports, and other stuff, with an ink quill, it didn't matter to Lorgar, as long as it was there to focus on. He wanted just to work; to forget. To help him forget, he brought two bottles of brandy, and a large amount of mead. Marius. The news of his passing was bad enough, but the circumstances behind it where even worse. "Mauled a devoured by vampires" was a horrible way to go. Though it appeared that Lorgar was focusing on his work, an entirely separate matter was the focus of his mind, Why the hell was Marius down there to begin with, it doesn't make any sense!!! The same thought had been in Lorgar's mind all week. Why would Marius go down to an area known to be infested by vampires? Apparently and expected, Gaius had been taking it very hard. After informing Tullius on the matter, he had written a letter to Marius CO, Baldur Red-snow. After assigning a courier to deliver it, he had personally gone to inform his Niece, who took it as hard as expected. Her fiancée took it even harder, started to weep alongside the lieutenant-commander, expected of a school-teacher. Lorgar himself was…very sad. Despite their differences, arguments, and ultimate division, he had considered Marius a good friend, a comrade…a brother. Losing him…was like losing a family member. Lorgar snarled, and pushed away that thought. He poured himself a glass of brandy and gulped it all down. Alcohol was poisons that dulled the senses and made men forget. All Lorgar wanted to do was forget, He's just another name to add to my list of dead friends. Lorgar hurt. He hurt a great deal of the inside, and the only think that could help him was the bottle. He poured himself another glass of brandy, before chugging that. As Lorgar drowned out his sorrow with Booze , he heard his door guards voice, "Sir, countess Milerda of Chorrol is here to see you." Milly? What is she doing here at this hour? Lorgar straightened out his uniform, before taking out a cigar and lighting it. He said in his usual voice, "Send her in." Milly (her preferred name) rushed in, with her normal green dress and golden spectacles. Before Lorgar could greet her, she pulled him in for a hug. Her eyes were tear stained, and she said "Oh Lorgar, I'm so sorry for your loss." Lorgar stiffly, and slightly returned the hug. "It's fine Milly." Milly gazed upwards, her eyes sharpening under her spectacles. "No it's not. He was one of your best friends, and he's dead. Lorgar you don't have to hide your emotions from me." Lorgar, gently relaxed in her grasp, and put his head to her small shoulder. "Yes I know." They just stood there, for a while, letting Milly share her warmth to Lorgar. He felt good. For a few instants he forgot about everything, his job, Marius, Witchie, Samuel, everything. The only thing on his mind was Milly. Lorgar slowly whispered the words, "I love you." "I love you too." And with that Lorgar broke away from the hug, got onto one knee, took out a small box, and cleared his throat. "While this may seem strange, and odd, Nords usually don't wait awhile before saying this, and asking of this. But Countess Milerda of Chorrol, will you marry me?" Milly just looked at Lorgar, before breaking into tears and a massive smile forming on her face. She threw her arms around Lorgar and started to cry. "Yes Lorgar, I will."

General Baldur Red-Snow 5 in the Morning Markarth Sitting in a chair in their room in the Silver-Blood inn, Baldur was once again writing, but it wasn't reports since he and Rebec were basically on vacation. No, this time he was writing in his journal, writing about recent events. Every last painful detail including his own mental thoughts, even ones he may not want Rebec to see. Especially those. He decided he'd make his journal private once more until he thought it may be appropriate for her to see. The group had set off from the orc settlement early to get back to Markarth so that they did not overstay their welcome within their stronghold. Baldur had a brief talk with the Jarl in which he insisted that the next guard captain be a Necro Nord of his choosing and that he be allowed to have a small group of them at his command to serve as guards along with the guards already there. Baldur wanted to replace the lot of them, but that would lead to too many problems. This move he made currently was slightly risky but it was necessary. If the Jarl couldn't control his own men, someone else would need to. Their official duty was to protect the city from forsworn. The change would happen in a weeks time. Baldur was once again watching Rebec sleep as he often did on nights that he could not himself, now that he was finished writing recent accounts in his journal. He was trying to write another song, but he was having trouble doing so. Too many thoughts were running through his head with not enough mead in his belly to balance the two. About Rebec, Toki, Ysana, Boldir, the future, all of it. So instead Baldur tried exercising his mind the way he used to, which was simple poetry about nothing specific. Baldur closed his eyes and picked the first thing that came to mind. The thing that is most vital now became the bringer of their doom, Sealing all inside in this dark cascading tomb, Water fell before them destroying all in sight, The city now lay flooded, All scattered now in fright, This city was cast in darkness, yet to them all was right, But now it was brought into the day no longer in the night, Water broke through their ceiling, to them a merciless fountain, Flooding their endless tunnels, goodbye city within the mountain, Merciless beings on high who stand impossibly tall, To them they are gods, but they're not much different afterall, They both are at the mercy of a higher power, One of them makes mountains, the other makes buildings and towers, One is indifferent to the other, but to them the same is true, All are made small to those who dwell beyond the blue, The great city was but a mound converted to a toy, The plaything of a young lad, no more than a boy, He poured water from a bucket, a meager amount, scant, Yet this was enough, for these people were just ants, But is it not the same for us? Do we have better odds? Will we stay in good graces with those that we call gods? Or are gods just like us, simply walking to and fro, Higher beings with indifference to those who lie below? Baldur closed his notebook and put it next to his journal, satisfied with the mediocre poem that he wrote. Nothing special, just an exercise of the mind. Like his father used to have him do. He didn't have him write poetry, that was something he started on his own. When he left his father, he stopped this practice. But now that he finally knew the truth and he understood him more, Baldur no longer resented him and decided the practice was a useful one and that he should start it up once more. The thought reminded him once more of his mother, who he wished to speak to in private for a while, but he didn't feel safe leaving Rebec alone sleeping alone like this. Baldur walked back over to the stone bed to look to his wife before he climbed back into bed. She looked so peaceful in her sleep. So beautiful, even with the wandering trickle of drool that fell from her mouth. In a weird way that only someone in love could understand, this only added to her beauty. If Baldur had walked over to look at her sooner, this sight would have rested his storm of thoughts enough to make another song as he intended. Baldur rubbed the side of her face gently with his hands, taking care not to disturb her as he wiped the saliva away. Baldur's face began growing a smile of admiration and was about to write that song afterall when he heard a light knock on his door. Baldur didn't expect any visitors, so he instinctively grabbed one of his axes after checking Rebec's amulet for any magical glow. There was none. Once Baldur slowly opened the door, he saw that it was only Hroki standing before him, this time wearing a non revealing typical townswoman blue dress. "Hroki, what are you doing here? If it were Rebec who opened the door...." "I know, but I could tell you were up when I saw the light. I remember you used to sometimes stay up in your room doing whatever. I used to sit by your door since you wouldn't let me stay in your bed overnight." "I was writing. Hroki, what is it that you want? I don't mean to be rude, but I am a married man now. It wouldn't be right for me to continue talking with someone I used to be involved with. It would cause unneeded trouble." Hroki looked to her feet as she shifted them nervously. "Don't worry, I'll get out of your hair. I just came by to tell you a woman is in the tavern asking for you." "That would be my mother, thank you." "Oh, I see." Hroki was about to walk away, but turned around and pushed against the door so Baldur couldn't close it just yet. "Baldur can I ask you one thing?" Baldur sighed, knowing that the question wouldn't be an easy one to answer. "Go ahead." "Do you think that, maybe if...maybe if you and that woman-" "Rebec." "Right...Rebec. If you and Rebec hadn't met...that...you and I-" "Rebec is the only woman that even remotely gave me feelings of love, Hroki. I'm sorry. If it weren't for her, I'd just be another drunk. Marriage would be the last thing on my mind. You're a young girl, Hroki. You'll find another." Hroki stood silent for a while at the door. Baldur didn't want to sugar coat anything. She needed to know the truth so that she could move on. "You were my first...you know." "....I know, Hroki. Goodbye. I wish you luck." Baldur opened the door fully and gave her a brief friendly hug, not wishing to be too cruel to the girl. To Hroki it seemed to last longer however. Afterwards, she went back to her room to leave Baldur in peace. And to try and move on as Baldur suggested. Ugh, that's never easy. Baldur still in his bedclothes walked into the tavern room now to see Ysana sitting at a table with two tall mugs of mead freshly poured, apparently by Hroki. Ysana's eyes looked puffy and red, showing that she had recently been crying. Baldur figured she was still upset over Ulrin. She likely would be for the rest of her life, Baldur figured. "Good morning...mother." The word would take some getting used to for him. "Good morning, son." It was the same for her. "So you wished to speak? What about?" "Where are you going after this? Can't you stay? If you can't stay, maybe I can come with you?" "Mother, it isn't that simple. I have some things that I need to take care of alone with Rebec. We'll be going out of Skyrim soon to take care of some business officially. Although unofficially it's for us.” Ysana took a long swig of her mead that surprised Baldur a bit due to her appearance, but then he remembered of course that she was a nord afterall. When she was done, she grabbed Baldur's hands from across the table. "Baldur, I just want to get to know you better. To make up for all these years I missed. I want to know who you are, what you've done, where you've been, what you like to eat, drink, every bruise and cut-" "That you don't want to know, mother. Some things are best left untold." Ysana wanted to press further, but figured she could ask him or Rebec later what that was about. Ysana reached for her son's left eye and ran a finger across the scar, hurting herself mentally as she did. As if the scar was hers. "You know, somehow I feel responsible for that cut. I don't know why, but...it's like I think subconsciously that if I had been in your life, I could have protected you somehow. Maybe you wouldn't have been a warrior. Mayb-" "Stop beating yourself up, mother. We've been over this. You and pa were just in an unfortunate position. And father would have made a warrior out of me regardless." Ysana stood up from her side of the table and wrapped her arms around Balur's neck from behind, resting her head on his as she did. "I know, son. I know. It's nice to be able to give you a good proper hug. All that armor before....must drive your wife crazy." "She's used to it. Mother, about before, you and I will get our chance. We can never make up for the lost time, but we'll still have our chance. Once the town that we plan to start is built and we establish a real home. You, me, Rebec, by best friend Boldir and his family, we can all be together. Maybe Rebec's family too." "I hope you're right son. Just don't die before that day happens, okay? Promise?" Baldur normally would have given that promise without hesitation, but this time he hesitated. Thoughts of the previous day were still fresh on his mind. But he eventually got around to saying it for her sake. "Don't worry mom, I'll be fine. After we leave Markarth, I'll see you soon. We'll be back before you can say Nerevarine." "Nerevarine." Baldur looked up from surprise. Rebec and Boldir never got the pronunciation right, which he always took as a good sign. His mother however got it on the first try. "I take it you read a lot like your father did. You're not the only one, son." "....Right." "Well, I gotta go, son. I'll catch some sleep before I get things ready for me and Rebec." "Right. Love you mom." "Love you too, son." Ysana watched him briefly before she walked out of the tavern as he downed the rest of the drinks that she had bought for them. She still couldn't get over how much he looked like Ulrin. It was somehow a blessing and a curse. On one hand she could see her love in her son now even though he was dead, which while this was a comfort, it also felt like his ghost haunted her. Her son was the version of him that loved her, but she still remembered how he looked when he first entered the Temple. That was the Ulrin that she last saw when Baldur was still a baby. Before he left her. Ysana forced the thoughts out of her mind and tried to focus on Baldur's smiling face as she walked back towards her Temple past a running Imperial soldier. "Baldur? General Baldur Red-Snow?" Baldur looked up to see an Imperial messenger standing in the tavern now, slightly panting as he did. Baldur's first instinct was to grab for his axe. Old habit. Baldur after remembering the alliance stood up from his table to address the man. "Yes, I am he. How'd you find me here? No one knows we're here except my friend and-" "Ulfric Stormcloak, yes. I had to be taken to him by some Stormcloaks after I tried crossing the border. He told me where you were after I told him why I was here. He knew the matter was something important to you." "What matter was it?" The soldier handed Baldur a letter, which he quickly tore open in haste. It said: General Baldur Red-Snow, General Baldur Red-snow, it's my...extreme regret that I must inform you of the death of Ambassador Marius Imperius of the Stormcloak army. As you are his current Commanding officer, I thought it prudent, and necessary, to inform you of his passing. I have some...details of his murder. The condition of his body when we found it was...degrading. A majority of his...flesh, organs, and blood was missing, presumably...ripped or eaten off. Some of the bones....were cracked open and there marrow consumed. We are almost certain he was...mauled by a group of vampires that are known to take residence in the bloodworks of the Arena. We don't know what he was doing down there...but...I'm...truly...sorry for your loss....I...nevermind. Long live the Dragon, Long live the empire, Lord-Major Lorgar Grim-maw. "Damn it!" Baldur's hands started shaking in anger as he read the letter. Marius, the man that helped save his life and brought him back to Rebec was dead. I should have done something to keep him safe. Now, he's dead. Because of Moon-Balls. It has to be him. Baldur told the soldier to wait where he was as he went to go get a pen, ink and two parchments and envelopes. Once he was done, he handed the letters to the soldier and gave him an appropriate amount of gold for the service and a tip as well. This one is meant for Empress Dales. It's my condolences to the people of Cyrodiil for the death of their General. He was a good man. I wish I could do more. The other is to Ulfric. It's a letter saying for now on not to tell anyone of my whereabouts. Just in case. The soldier gave him a nod and put his fist to his chest. "Long live the dragon." "Long live the bear." After the man left, Baldur went back to his room to wrestle with his thoughts. Which most were primarily of Moon-Balls. When he got back in however, Rebec's innocent looking sleeping face washed his previous thoughts away. Baldur chuckled to himself at the irony. Baldur climbed back to bed next to her, placing a hand over her stomach. He was thinking of children again, wondering what it would be like when they had them. Baldur scooted down on the bed and lifted her shirt slightly before resting his head on her well defined belly and let thoughts of the future send him back to sleep once more.

Brutus, Endar, Jem Kvatch Palace Late evening "The worms. It always comes back to that doesn't it? I'm a worm. Everyone's a worm. Everthing and nothing. All of it is nothing but a false reality, yet it is literally everything that matters. We are maggots within a maggot. Trying to eat our way out of this pathetic existence that we call life. Some of us make it out, only to find that the world outside of our world is just a collection of rotting corpses, festering within the bowls of yet another maggot! What beings would possibly be so cruel and remorseless to trap me here? Surrounded in this wriggling mass? Is there not a place where poor Brutus can go? Free to make my own illusion? A world like this but not like this where I can have a place that is free of such pestilence? Or is life just a series of worms within the bowels of other worms with no way out, no end in sight? What do you all think?" Brutus sat in a pile of random women from around the hold. Some daughters, mothers, whores or just single women. All passed out from either liquor, exhaustion or both. Not all from Brutus of course, but there were a lot of stamina potions lying around, signifying that he did give it his best. Brutus being the kind fellow he is even invited some guards to give him a hand or two. Can't have the guests go home unsatisfied after all. That would not do at all. Brutus climbed up from the "wriggling mass of worms" as he heard a knock on his door. "Sir, we have a prisoner who needs to speak with you." "A prisoner? For me? Why thank you guardsman! I always love visitors of this sort! Never know what you're gonna get. Kinda like whores! Endless possibilities! I'll be right there." "...Ehrm, y-yes sir." "Hmm, speaking of which...." Brutus picked up his staff after applying his black leather pants and black quilted vest, then he left the room, making sure to drink a potion of cure disease before he left his chambers. *** "Why don't you do it then?" Endar sighed. He didn't feel like this was even worth explaining. While waiting for the Count in the great hall, Endar had been more than courteous, and yet for some reason, all of the guards were seemingly getting angrier and angrier. Now, one was asking why he didn't escape if he was capable of it. The answer seemed pretty obvious to him. "I haven't escaped, because I don't want to. I have no desire for a bounty to follow me back to the Imperial City." "Or you're too scared to try." The wizard's eyes narrowed at the older looking guard. "Are you trying to provoke me? I have to admit, it's working quite well. Your challenge really does make me want to prove you wrong." Endar shrugged. "Would you be willing to pay off or ignore my fine if I attempt to escape?" "Of course not!" "Pity. I suppose I'll just remain here then." Endar looked away from the muttering guard and back at a bored looking Elara, who was sitting on a bench in the corner of the hall, trying to stay out of the upcoming proceedings. He had left his staff with her. Apparently, being a prisoner, he wasn't allowed to carry it into court. Suddenly, they heard the sound of a door opening and closing again from somewhere in the halls behind the throne. "That the Count?" asked Elara to a nearby guard. The guard shrugged. "Hopefully. There's no telling. Count Brutus is a busy man." Brutus slowly walked his way into the room, admiring his paintings as he always did when he made his way in. As he did, he largely ignored the people in his presence until he tok time to admire each and every one of himself first. Perhaps it was a way to get others to do the same. Once we was done, finally he addressed the group, happy to see a Dunmer in his presence, since Dunmer were known for not being shy about his favorite pass-time, unlike some Imperials he was acquainted with. Sticks in the mud they were. "Ah, hello hello my guests! It's s-, wait...what is this? Hostility? No, no that won't do. What seems to be the issue here?" "Sir, t-" "I was talking to our guest." Endar's brow raised. So this is the Count. Endar had heard little of Brutus outside of vague rumors that he'd taken no particular interest in. At the moment though, he couldn't recall what any of them were actually about. He glanced at the guard, then back up to the Count. "I suppose you want the absolute truth? Very well. This loud fellow," he pointed at the guard who'd arrested him. "keeps looking at me like he wants to kill me, which I don't understand at all. I've given him no reason to want me dead. Then, h-" "No reason?" the guard cut in. You can't be seri-" "Hush. It is my turn to speak right now." Endar continued, a little annoyed. "Even though I complied, and agreed to come before you, he has done nothing but insult me since we arrived." He looked at the guard, who was red-faced with anger. "You see him now? How can I pretend to be in a good mood when he's glaring at me like that?" "Hmm, good point. Guardsman? Guardsman!" even as Brutus was yelling he still managed to keep a smirk on his face. "Yes sir?" "What is my rule?" "Sir, he-" Brutus slammed his staff onto the stone floor releasing it's effect. The guard's face resumed it's normal color and the guard's face lightened up a bit. He even looked cheery. "What is my rule?" "No hostility, Count." "Good, no if you may, would one of you fine fellows here please tell me the crime that was committed?" A younger guard behind Endar stepped forward and answered with a loud voice. "Fourteen counts of assault and one possible count of murder." Before Brutus could respond, Endar cut in. "Actually, it was nine counts of assault. Five of those were actually in self-defense." He looked back at the guard. "And you also forgot to mention the summoning of that Dremora in the street." He muttered his next words. "Ridiculous a law as it is." Brutus let out a giddy little snicker from Endar's response. He was a tad bit disappointed that there was no lies coming from him, no ulterior motives to be had, but his nonchalant disposition was a nice change of pace. "So honest, so honest! No illusions about you my Dunmer guest, none at all. Strange indeed. Unless that honesty IS your illusion to hide from the fact that you do have something to hide...something....pray tell, what exactly did you do to assault these people? And the murder? And why were you summoning such bland company in my city?" Endar slighly tilted his head, as he often did when interested in something. "Well you're an odd man aren't you?" He hasn't expected the Count to be a deep thinker. Perhaps even a philosopher? He'd expected the usual posh and serious type that was the norm among Cyrodilic nobility. "My illusions, and whether or not I am behind them, are my own business, I'm sure you understand. You ask how I assaulted them? I paralyzed everyone in an inn. How I commited the murder? A paralyzed man fell and hit his head." Endar paused for a moment. "Interesting how the only "why" you asked was about the Daedra, when for most, it would be the other way around. Why did I summon such bland company? He's my butler and packmule, and I needed him for something he carried. Simple as that. Is this answer satisfactory? I hope so, as I'd very much like to be off soon." "Oh a fellow illusionist! I knew there was a reason I was interested in you! Well I think we can wave off the "assault". There's nothing wrong with practicing some harmless illusion magic right, guardsman?" Brutus rubbed the imperial's rugged chin as he channeled the charm spell through his body. "No sir, of course not." "Good! Then our guest can pay his fine and be on his way if he wishes. The daedra summoning seems to have been a harmless affair. I believe in second chances for such things, don't you? He's clearly new to Kvatch, so he'd have no idea of the law." "Right you are, sir. Silly law anyway." "Exactly! Now, be off, I can handle things from here." Brutus waited for the guards to leave the room before he continued. He didn't want the rest of the conversation to be interrupted. "Okay my good mer, now I guess since this matter is taken care of after you pay for the fine of murder of course, we can discuss the why. What was the reasoning for your masterful display? Not that one needs a reason to be illusive with illusions." Endar smiled. It was about time someone showed an ounce of respect in this city. So far, it's seemed like everyone in Kvatch has wanted to cheat him or fight him. "My display? You mean the paralysis? Like I said, it was in self-defense. I was attacked by a group of drunks, one of whom's brains are now very familiar with the corner of a table. Speaking of..." Endar looked back into the corner of the room, where his stewardess sat watching. She was clearly more interested now than before. "Elara, bring this generous man his money!" "Ooh, another guest! And what a beautiful facade her skin graces upon her face...you two don't have to just drop the gold and leave. Surely there's some food or wine you two'd love to have from my court? Then you can tell me the whole story of these drunks. I'd like to hear about what your business in Kvatch was here if you don't mind. Who knows? Perhaps we could help eachother." Elara walked up beside Drenim and put the chest on the floor, kneeling before it to count out the money bags until she reached one thousand. She looked up when complimented. "Er... Thank you?" she said. She'd heard her share of strange compliments over the years working in Skingrad, but never one so colorful and strange as his description of her face, or the skin on it at least. As the girl was knelt down beside him counting, Endar thought for a moment. He couldn't believe that he was seriously considering the Count's offer. It wasn't the food or wine that tempted him, nor was it the offer to consort with such high nobility. He couldn't care less about that. They were below him anyway. There was something about this man that fascinated Endar. He was obviously different, perhaps even blessed by a Daedra. Sheogorath perhaps? Endar hoped it was so. The House of Troubles is one of his favorite topics of study. He's also an illusionist, could be good for conversation. The wizard nodded, convinced. "Very well, Count Brutus, I will stay for a while." He glanced down at his stewardess, then back at the door the guards had passed through. "Maybe I'll actually find some intelligent conversation." Or at least interesting. "Hmm, depends on what you consider intelligent I suppose. Knowledge of the world? Or the knowledge that the knowledge of the world...is useless and always subject to change, just as the appearance of all that is around us. Your dear stewardess was clearly puzzled by my statement earlier. If I were to rip off her face and expose that which is hidden from under...would she still be beautiful? Depends on your tastes I suppose as all things, but I'd assume most people would say no. But then again, most people are idiots. Actually, we all are. The most we know and can hope to know is what lies within this world and the worlds around us. But as I said before, the world is subject to change. This is especially true for the worlds around us." Brutus took a small sip of wine as he looked intently towards Endar's stewardess. Still smiling as he always did. A mad philosopher? Interesting. Endar looked at his stewardess, who kept glancing up at Brutus, and then glancing right back down when she met his eyes, which never left her. He then looked around the room. It was still empty but for the three of them. "An interesting idea you believe, Count Brutus. That we are all hopeless in our endeavors to learn, when learning everything is rendered moot by the ever-changing world, or worlds, as you say. Though, that would definitely not be a belief inspired by the divine pantheons, which supposedly stabilize the world. I'd be interested in hearing more about what it is you believe, but not standing here in front of your throne like some servant. Do you have a chair I could sit in? My legs are already weary from standing without my staff. Oh, and perhaps some of that food you promised? I'm afraid I've actually skipped dinner this evening." "Of course! The table is already here! Of course!" Brutus walked over to the wall of the room and seemed to be grabbing on thin air before he pulled his arms and revealed a table filled with cheeses, meats and various aphrodisiacs such as bananas, small bowls of nuts, and other fruits with jars of honey beside it. He had it hidden with a cloth that he had painted to match the walls. If you stared at it directly, one could easily see that it was cloth. But if one did not know it was there and didn't try to spot it out, it was practically invisible. "I'd light the candles, but this should do." Brutus snapped his fingers which sent green orbs over the candles producing magical light. Endar was impressed by the hidden table. He hadn't noticed it before, and it made him wonder what other things this man had hidden in such manners. He took his own seat. "Very good. Elara, bring me my bag." "So, before we continue with this talk of the world, why don't we finish the one about what it is you were doing in Kvatch that started all this? Any business of one so well trained in illusion has to be interesting." asked Brutus as took a seat in the table close to Elara. "I was here to purchase an artifact from a traveling merchant. It turned out the N'wah never had it to begin with." Brutus's smile widened at this response. Now he was very interested. "Would this artifact perhaps be the Masque of Clavicus Vile?" Endar nodded. "As a matter of fact it is." his brow raised slightly. Apparently there had been more to his meeting than originally believed. "What do you know about the Masque?" "Oh about as much as what anyone would know about it. But the artifact isn't what interests me. What interests me is you! I had that artifact made for the sole purpose of attracting someone such as yourself to my fair corner of the worm to train me further in illusion magic! I made a mold of the masque from a description I read in a book, had a smith do the rest, then I sold it for "a steal" to some idiot Imperial. After that I just had to wait and see what famous wizard would pop in to inspect it! I figured surely someone of high talents in illusion would come to investigate claims of having an artifact such as the Masque of Clavicus Vile. And here you are! Although I haven't heard your name, but you must be skilled from what I've heard. Is teaching me something you would be interested in? I'd pay well, at least more well than a commoner would. Consider your bounty the first payment. And while you're here, you can partake in the rest of my....guests. As long as you're willing to...share. If that is something miss Elara would be...interested in?" Brutus shamelessly rubbed at the steward's knee, still looking towards her as he had been since before as he drank more wine. "That's a clever plan you had, with the Masque. Cost me quite a bit of trouble getting ahold of it though. Have you ever tried just asking around? You'd be surprised what that will get you." Endar looked at Elara, who was looking back at him nervously. "As much as I admire the effort you put into this, I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline. I have no interest in taking on a student, nor do I plan on staying in Kvatch for very long..." Elara looked at Endar pleadingly. She didn't want to lay with Brutus. The man was beyond strange and frankly, he terrified her. I can't make her do that. Endar paused. He felt strange for a moment. Wait what? Why should I care? "Money is not an issue for me. You can keep what I owe you. I can show you a few tricks if you will allow us to stay here for the night, but no longer... What you do with Elara is down to you two." Brutus was disappointed both in the decline and in the facial response Elara gave but he didn't show it. Besides, finding a bedmate wasn't exactly hard for him. But a master illusionist wasn't something you could come up with cheaply. Having one owe him somewhat for the predicament he was in financially would have been convenient, but alas it was not to be. "Very well, then. You two can stay the night. Perhaps you could show me that paralysis spell? I am afraid I only know one for single targets." Outside the door of the county house, a clamor had begun. One might even call it a kerfuffle. Loud voices and banging could be heard, and when the castle doors opened the loud voices spilled into the foyer and became an argument with the door guards. "We demand satisfaction!" a screeching voice shouted. Shortly thereafter, the din calmed down a bit when a smoother male voice spoke in reassuring tones. A nervous guard then came to announce the new guests to Count Brutus. "My lord, it's the Count of Skingrad's son, Lord Janus Bathory, to see you, and..." "And Punctilius CARO!" The owner of the screeching voice appeared behind the guard, announcing himself. It was the rector of Kvatch's Chapel of Akatosh. The grey-haired priest's robes billowed around him as he pushed past the guard and waved a bony finger at Brutus. "My lord, I..." His eyes fell on Endar, went wide, and the man's face turned three shades of purple. "My LORD. Daedra running through the streets! Terrorizing the citizenry! And you sit here supping with the blasphemer HIMSELF!" From behind the priest strolled a younger man with wavy blonde hair and ruddy good looks. He was in riding clothes of impeccable make, and carried himself with the confidence and swagger of a young nobleman. A swarthy, dark-haired manservant accompanied him. "Brutus," Janus Bathory said with a familiar tone and toothy smile. "It seems I arrived just in time to prevent a riot of your citizens. Don't worry, the rab..." He glanced at the priest. "That is, the good people of Kvatch are standing down, for now. But it does appear you've been up to no good again." While he spoke, the man was eyeing the table. He reached for a bunch of grapes, giving Elara a sly wink as he popped one into his mouth. Brutus kept his smile as the man ate his grapes. In fact his smile widened. Things were about to get interesting. "Janus, hello! Pray tell why I am graced with your presence in my court? Eating my food? And what's this about Daedra running in the streets?" The priest answered, even though no one had addressed him. "Do you not even know?! Have you not heard the cry of your people, my lord! The cries of terror and anguish-" Interrupting, Bathory said, "It seems your elf here summoned a daedroth in the middle of a town square..." "A HIDEOUS BEAST!" "...a daedroth, and it upset rather a few people. It's not the only matter of concern in your county that has come to our attention. In your court, to be precise." Janus Bathory- Jem, as he was more normally known- spoke to the count as though addressing a naughty schoolchild. Brutus stood up from the table now and walked over to his throne chair, speaking as he did. "And pray tell, what word is spreading about me in my court? My guest here has paid in full all of his charges, so am I not to be courteous to my guests as I am to all? Even the bellowing fly that fancies himself a priest of Akatosh?" The priest was sputtering and by all appearances close to a heart attack. Jem laid a hand on the priest's shoulder, ostensibly to calm him, but instead Caro's eyes went wide and spittle flew as he raged at Brutus. "You! You are the plague upon Kvatch! We know, oh yes we know. The debaucheries, the heathen SLANDERS. The people will not stand for it! They will rise up and cleanse you from this city like pus from a wound!" Jem's hand shifted, and the priest suddenly fell silent, mumbling, appearing downcast. "My flock," he said, disconsolate. "Perhaps you should return to them now, Reverend Father," Bathory said comfortingly. "They need you now, more than ever." "Yes. Yes, go to them." The priest turned and shuffled off toward the door, his shoulders sagging with the weight of Kvatch's many transgressions. Crossing to the other side of the table, Jem took the seat across from Endar and leaned back, propping his feet up on the table as if he owned the place. "Now we can chat in peace. I haven't met your guests, Brutus." "Aw, was that it? You bore me Janus. I was going to make that poor priest's head explode with the rest of my guests in the back room! In fact... GUARDSMAN! See my recent company out, please. Hurry along! I wish the priest of Akatosh to see my recent workings of Dibella! For that is all it is, I can assure you, Janus." Brutus kept his same mad gaze upon Janus as the guards ran by, even with the sounds of angry screams and curses from the women that were forced out of his quarters who were given no time to dress. "If you think this will bother me in the slightest...you are mistaken." Cheeks full of grapes, Jem said, "Oh, I know that you bother very little about actually running your... Well, it can't really be called a county, can it? Your nook. That sounds better." He grinned and reached to dip a cake into a pot of honey. "Actually I came to call in some notes at the Gold Coast Bank. Had no idea I'd find a riot when I arrived. That priest is quite the ambitious man. You should attend chapel more often, Brutus. I happened to catch his sermon about you this morning. Priceless." Brutus stood up from his chair and walked...or rather skipped over to the table before cart wheeling himself over it to the other side so he was sitting next to Jem. Afterwards, Brutus picked up a banana and peeled it before leaning his arm over Jem's and whispering in his ear. "Do you know why I don't like you or that priest? Because unlike myself...." Brutus slowly and suggestively put the banana closer and closer to his mouth before suddenly shoving it into Jem's chest. "you both fancy yourselves flies rather than maggots." Jem stood up abruptly, cursing. If there was one thing he hated, it was stains on his clothing. His eyes flashed briefly with undisguised hate, but in the next instant his expression turned calm again. While his manservant came up and began fastidiously wiping at the remnants of mashed banana, Jem wagged a finger. "Ah, ah, Brutus. You should be nicer to people. Especially to people who pay your bills." Bathory turned to the Dunmer wizard, sounding concerned. "Does he owe you money, too? I'd get it up front and in a hurry, if I were you." Endar nodded, smiling. He'd been eating this whole time, apparently not caring one bit about what the two nobles were quarreling over, or the cause for such hostility between them. In truth though, Jem had caught his attention moments after he'd entered the hall. There was an interesting conflict here to be sure. The wizard wondered if Brutus knew what he was dealing with. "I appreciate your concern but it is hardly necessary. I am not here to collect, but to pay." He took took a couple grapes himself and plopped them into his mouth. "Right, right," Jem offered cheerily. The manservant was still swabbing, and Bathory pushed him away and sat back down. "Your fines for that daedra business. Well, Brutus, doing a little law enforcement after all? And just who are you again?" The last was directed to the Dunmer. "Again? I wasn't aware that I had been introduced a first time. I suppose you wouldn't recognize the robes? I am Endar Drenim, Master Wizard of the House Telvanni." Endar was not actually Telvanni. Not anymore. But that was hardly a relevant detail at the moment. "Telvanni." The Skingrad noble whistled softly. "Master wizards. Live in giant mushrooms. Do you ever get mold on your robes, I wonder? Or is that so normal in your part of Tamriel that no one notices?" Then Jem remembered something... He stood, suddenly in a hurry to go. "I must excuse myself, gentleman and Brutus. I've got some work left to do in Kvatch before I return to civilization." Laying a hand on the Count of Kvatch's shoulder, he said, "You know, Brutus, your little dung heap here was a protectorate of Skingrad for a long time after the Oblivion Crisis. We still consider you our poor cousins. If I hear of more riots, I'll have my father send you some troops to help put things to right. Can't have religious riots spreading to Skingrad, after all." Motioning to the manservant to beat tracks, Jem retreated without a glance back. Endar looked at Brutus as the noble left, taking a handful of walnuts as he did. "Cheerful friend you've got there." Brutus sat there for a while, thinking...calculating...never losing that same curious smirk on his face... "Yes...he is a fool is what he is. Ironic I know coming from one such as myself. To you, maybe I look the fool. But people have made that mistake before. Didn't end well. Tell you what! I want you to reconsider! You help me train at least for a while and agree to be my partner to help deal with these Skingrad sorts! A powerful Master Wizard of House Telvanni would surely make them think twice about messing with me. You saw how quickly Jem beat feet when you mentioned that! Not only will I pay you, but I'll give you my staff! Here." Brutus got up and walked back to the throne, picked up his staff and tossed it over to Endar. "Eh? What do you think of that? It's a special staff perfect for those trained in illusion. Its made of ebony with silver etched on it in a spiral. It has...special properties that I can explain to you later if you agree to help me before you go on your way for good. It's enchanted with the power of a sigil stone...It would make up partly for your wasted trip for the Masque of Clavicus Vile. As for the money, as you heard it isn't all mine, but that isn't your problem, now is it?" The wizard looked at Brutus thoughtfully. This time, truly considering his offer. The Count was an interesting man, and obviously knew enough to make training him easier than it would be for some. But he was also clever, more so than he gave away. Endar looked over the staff, Turning it over in his fingers. He could feel the energy in it. Definitely Daedric. Endar tossed the staff back to Brutus. "Thanks, but I have no need nor desire for it. That noble's money is more than enough for me... That and some discussion of course. I would study what it is that you believe. And if you need help dealing with that... man. I can help. At least I think I can. Elara, how does my schedule look?” Elara opened Drenim's journal to the schedule pages. They were all filled to the brim, mostly with things she couldn't even comprehend. "Uhh, it looks full sir." "I know that! I mean is there anything of pressing concern?" The page she was currently on that was for all of next week's dealings had a bunch of impossible to read scribbles and some odd rune sketches. There was also a crude picture of what looked like a large half-woman-half spider eating a white Elf. "I don't... think so." "Good." he turned back to Brutus. "I will help you. But only because I'm curious to see how a man like you would deal with an enemy like him." Brutus walked back over to Endar and shook his hand to seal the deal. "The only way I know how, Master. Hehehehe! With the power of illusion!" Releasing his hand, Endar looked the Count in the eyes, a very serious expression on his face. "Then you'll need to get to practicing, because he..." Endar motioned with his thumb back to the door Jem had left through. "...will not be an easy one to fool."

Skjari, Samuel Imperial palace Afternoon Skjari was sitting by his desk rereading the previous court mage's journals for what have been the seventh time, he had lost track after the fourth time so it was only a guess. So far he couldn't find the clues he needed to to the riddle of divine fire. Suddenly he sensed someone nearby, his magical hold over the palace had increased and was the strongest around his quarters, and this someone was not among the living. It wasn't Maggie as he would have recognized her presence. This was someone, or something, else. The presence drew closer and closer till it was just outside the door and then he heard knocking. Whatever it is, it got some decency. Maybe one of Maggie's friends... or rivals. "Come in." He said as he closed the journal he was currently reading and had them fly over and place themselves in the bookshelf. The door opened and closed, but no one went through. To anyone else, this would have been strange, but Skjari could sense that someone was there and exactly where in the room. The figure of a tall, pale and dark haired Colovian appeared with one hand holding a ring. "It seems we meet again, King." "Enchantments are hard to suppress. Best way I know of is to drain the magic in the item, but even that is tricky. But what brings you here?" "They are indeed. Which is why they are so useful when moving around the palace. Since the magic is mostly internal to the item itself, there are few ways to disrupt it." Samuel looked around the room for a split second, but didn't appear to see anything of interest. "I thought it was high time we met, in a more official capacity than the brief introduction in Skyrim. I had halfway expected you to react to my presence back then, but I suppose I'm getting better at masking it when I want to." "Sorry but I was a bit dull back then, still is, but not as much." "Of course. You're not very talkative, are you? I suppose I wouldn't be either." "I'm more talkative with people I can see come through the door." "Come now, you surely know that seeing one with ones eyes is just one form of visibility. We both know that you could see me perfectly long before I knocked on your door. If you're going to take any offense to a convenience of mine when it comes to walking around the palace the few times I need to, I might as well leave right now; leaving you in the dark of some important information." "I don't take offense, I just find that when someone enters the room like you do, I don't expect small talk." "Offering your perspective in more than a single sentence is hardly small talk. I know you haven't been here long, but being as dismissive as you appear will not serve you well in the heart of the Empire. You may not like to talk to people, but this is Cyrodiil. Words carry the society, such is the Voice of the Emperor." "I'm being dismissive because you haven't brought up anything I find to be of interest. You said you had important information." He reminds me a little bit of Alduin. Or was it Paarthurnax? Which one liked to lecture like that? It was definitely Alduin, Paarthurnax was more patient. "And there is where your problem lies. This isn't Skyrim, and it certainly isn't the era you grew up in. The world has changed and will have no qualms breaking you down piece by piece if you're not mindful of that. If you lose your opportunity to control the Ruby Throne with Dales, you'll have blown your chances as long as the memories of this time remain." Samuel had raised his eyebrow with a disappointed expression. "By now you should have some idea of who I am; I have made no effort to hide my presence and purpose from your gaze. However, your attitude suggests that you're either not competent enough to see something obvious, or you think yourself above what I can offer. Neither of which will serve you well." "Take a seat and lets talk then. I don't think you came here to argue." Samuel deferred to his wish and pulled out the closest chair, changing his expression from the disappointed one to one that was simply neutral. "Indeed, I did not. I did expect that you'd take the little time it would take to show me the same courtesy I have tried to show you by coming here, but maybe I expected too much. Surely the brief introduction we had in Skyrim must have been a moment of extreme hospitality on your part, if this is anything to judge it by. I had honestly expected better from a King when introduced to a potential ally." "More like your invisible entry set my expectations for a direct approach to the matter, without formalities and courteous behavior. I think we need to take into consideration that we have different experiences. So I think we have slightly different ideas of what courtesy means. But lets talk about what you came for before we start arguing again." "I don't believe you honestly think courtesy has to mean proper speech and a bow when I enter. Courtesy can, as I am sure you know, mean that I do take the risk of being caught trespassing in the palace in a time of social instability, on the verge of needing martial law," Samuel once more seemed to be a little disappointed in the host. "I didn't come here for anything. I came here since I knew that sooner or later you would want me to show up, due to what is about to happen in this city, because I know who are behind it and what they are after. Tell me, who in the Imperial City do you consider the greatest threat to yourself or Dales?" "Excuse me then, I've had a long day reading boring books." Skjari leaned back in his chair like he was relaxing for the first time in several hours. "I have a feeling of where this is going. Lorgar is up to something. I didn't expect him to make a move so soon. Did he contact you directly about this or did your spies dig it up?" "I knew you weren't as blind as you seemed to present yourself. Please, in the future, don't hold back on such things, it makes it easier to talk to you as an equal, rather than just another client. But yes, Lorgar is up to something and said something is a potential threat to your hand on the Ruby Throne." Skjari's face got a thoughtful expression. "Only way for him to win is with a Pyrrhic victory. Though I doubt he will be able to see that or even care if he does see. So lets hear it then, so far I have a few guesses on what he's up to but I'm sure you know more precisely." "Lorgar is quite unstable, it seems. Or maybe it is that he is so stable that he cannot steer away from this. What is important is that he doesn't care about the risks involved to himself; what he does care about is the connection between you and the Empress, and how to separate the two of you. The only predictable thing is his goal, but I think he knows that he is on the verge of desperation. Or so I would say from our brief meeting about this subject. What actions he chooses to reach his goal is beyond my ability to predict, at this point." "I think I know how to turn his desperation into his downfall. And so far I've only toyed with the idea of exposing his communing with Hircine. Say, how good are you at spreading rumors?" "One of the Speakers of the Dark Brotherhood from the time the Septims disappeared is reported to have said "Dear Brother, I do not spread rumors. I create them". If you want rumors of Lorgar being tied to Hircine in the city or in the country, I can easily arrange such a thing. He already provided me with the tools to make it happen, when he threatened me to not cross him. Describing oneself as one of Hircine's Chosen truly shows a lack of subtlety and caution.” "Add a little hidden and unstable insanity about him to the rumors as well." He chuckled. "The irony is that none of these rumors will be directly false. And it will make things easier when people start to check up on them." "Indeed," Samuel replied with a small smile. "Lorgar has done few favors for himself. Your dismissal of Words might be problematic in the long run, but his dismissal of caution and finesse can easily end him in a moments notice. In return, I ask that you no longer try to have me followed. I'd say that is a fair price to pay, considering what I have already given you." "I had a feeling you might have noticed. I doubt I will find the need to keep a small eye on you if you stay true to your words here. Besides that eye will be more focused on Lorgar from now on, so I hope you don't mind if that eye falls upon you as well if he are ever in contact with him. But now if you spread these rumors carefully so he can't trace them back to either of us, I got some plans of what to do next but I first need to see Lorgar's reaction the consequences that will come of these rumors." "In about a week or so, a trader will come, reportedly having visited the island of Solstheim not too long ago, but most recently been in Skyrim and had to see the horrors of the war firsthand in Falkreath. Said trader will be accompanied by some associates and will find themselves in various taverns and inns on the way to the Imperial City, speaking just a tad too loudly about a man named Lorgar; said to be a Hircine worshiper from Solstheim that has infiltrated the courts. Given that he has, as far as I've been able to find out, been as he is his whole life, rumors about him making it around Solstheim is far from unreasonable. And not even a lie, though they usually cannot be tied to him in his present life. The mental instability is best spread as an exaggeration of his daedra worship. sometime after these rumors start to take hold." "No need to rush things. Yet. I will try to slow him down with lots of extra work to keep him busy so he wont be able to plan or try to stop these rumors. He will barely have time to sleep. I don't really want to bother you with all the details of what I aim to do next and I'm sure you are able to make some good guesses anyway. Now is there anything you require of me?" "Not at the moment, but I would be grateful if I can call upon a favor of my choosing when the time comes. It is not something that will endanger you or your hold on the Ruby Throne, but it would be most useful for me when i need it. Carrying a little extra power is going to be needed, I think. For the time being, I believe we should steer clear of each other, even to the knowledge of people like Magdela Bathory. If you need to talk to me in a hurry, you can talk to Aleffea. She occasionally keeps the Empress with company." "Who? And I would prefer if it doesn't endanger my homeland in any way as well." "Aleffea. I'm sure you'll recognize her; she is one of the very few elves around this palace. And don't worry about your homeland, this is a domestic matter of a... personal sort. That is all you need to know for now." Skjari's face got hint anger, as did his voice. "An elf? I don't do well with elves. I think you need to find a new contact for me. I also advice you to remove her from Dales presence." Samuel raised an eyebrow at him, before he let out a short chuckle. "A hatred of Mer. I see. Doesn't matter to me; I never intended Aleffea to stay at this palace to begin with. Alas, your Empress chose to bring her here. That said, pulling Alef out is a triviality. Nor is offering to find a new contact for you to use. I'm sure you've been to bed with several of them, if the rumors about you bedding the servants are true." "I have a history with elves. One that is covered in blood. So I hope you understand. And about the contact; you only need to give me a name then." "Sivera." Skjari smiled a little. "I remember her, she is quite... No, I'm not going to share any details. But I can say she will probably work quite well as a contact." "I'm sure. I recommend that you find a companion for the Empress of your own, now that Alef will no longer visit her. Seeing how her first reaction to Alef being willing to serve her was to make her a mistress, I'd be worried about what other pretty-face she might drag into the palace. I'm not the only one in the city with contacts, and there are people who would be very happy to get their hands on information from inside the palace. People who may try to use it to take the throne for themselves." "I will keep a small eye on her. Though I get the feeling she wont be a problem." "Right. I doubt she is even able to defy your orders. Still, information leaking can cause you a lot of damage in the long run, so I stand by my advice of finding a new bedmate for her yourself; one that you can trust." "I'll try." "Good. For this association to be beneficial on my end, I'll have to keep you in power. Whenever you need it, and I am in town, I am open to give you advice on the city and its politics, or see if I cannot pass on lists of nobles who support you and the ones who doesn't. Now, unless there was something else, I think our business here is concluded." "Give my regards to Maggie." "I can't, remember? This meeting is to stay between the two of us, for now. You'll see me the next time you need me... or when I come to call in my favor. Goodbye, King." Samuel got to his feet and gave him a short bow, before he turned around and walked out the door. As the door closed behind him, he disappeared from sight.

Lorgar, Samuel, Imperial City, Evening, Lorgar waited under a tree. He was in one of the many gardens of the newly restored Talos plaza district. It was raining very heavily, and it was extremely cloudy. He wore his typical outfit, along with a hat called a "beret" which was getting extremely popular to wear in the legion. He was smoking a cigar, waiting for the vampire known as Samuel. "Lorgar," the sound of Samuel's voice came from behind the tree as the man walked around and took a seat beside him. "Still smoking I see. Well, you'll have to forgive me; my old habits made me take a small souvenir from your office, but I am afraid it is already gone. I needed it for a special occasion, you understand." "Of course, If you needed a Cigar, you could have asked though..." Lorgar took another puff, and let the rain fall freely down upon him. It felt quite nice. The noise of rain was pleasing to the ear, as an added Bonus. "I have two important matters to discuss with you sir, one of which would be considered high treason." "Then you should have chosen a better place than this. I can count three people from the Thieves Guild, all of them able to move unsuspiciously into ears range on a moments notice, one of the nobles who are trying to get in the new Empress' good graces so he can secure a better place for his family in the world and four people who are reporting to me and my network. If you want to discuss anything of importance with me, go to Tanie's establishment and ask for Alef." Samuel whispered, before he got to his feet and simply walked away, leaving Lorgar alone. "'****..." Lorgar straightened out his Beret, and headed to the "establishment" in the rain (Or whorehouse as Tullius called it). *** Lorgar went to the counter, and asked the lady-in charge, "Excuse me ma'em. I need to see one of your girls, Alef?" "What? Oh, right... Sorry, I was a bit distracted. Who was you looking for again?" the woman who had been behind the counter when Dales had visited looked at the Nord, with a feint blush on her cheeks. It was never fun to be caught off guard, but she had managed to hide what she was doing. "Alef." "Oh, right, the Dunmer," with a smile she raised an eyebrow at him; it was clearly only meant to be a friendly comment. "A Nord with a Dunmer? That is... unusual. I think I like the thought of that." "Ironic..." Lorgar eyes hardened. He himself remembered all the tales of abuse the Dumner faced in Stormcloak controlled holds. He personally thought, that it was over played for imperial proganda, but if it was true, it disgusted him. But, rumors are rumors, and he wasn't really been to any Stormcloak controlled holds during the Civil war, so he cant confirm or deny the tales "If you would be so kind to point me to her..."area". I would also prefer to pay in advance if you don't mind." "Oh, she's the one who'll show you to her 'area', I can't go in there with you. But I'll show you to her room. Follow me." Lorgar followed the woman up a flight of stars, and into a hall way. "Here you go, Sir," at the end of the hallway, she pointed to the door. She sounded a little nervous. Did she recognize him? Or was she always like that? "Now, i'll better get back to the front. Have a good time." Lorgar didn't respond, as he advanced down the hall way. Once he got there, he slowly opened the door. The room was empty, or so it appeared at first glance. But Samuel hadn't made any effort to hide himself, beyond being invisible in case someone came it, and had even brought out his fake heartbeats to let Lorgar know that he was in the room. As soon as he closed the door behind him, he'd turn visible. Lorgar, detected somone in the area. A heart beat. He hated games. Two silver short-blades came out of the sleeves of his trench coat, and into his leather gloved hands. Just to show the vampire he wasn't in the mood to **** around, "I hate games, show yourself Samuel." "Not a game, Lorgar, just a precaution. I wouldn't want someone walking in here and see me, unless it was you. That much should be self-evident." Samuel appeared in a chair by the window. The only other place to sit would be the bed itself, and Samuel gestured to it. "Please, take a seat so we can get to business. Don't worry, I've muffled the room." The two silver short blades disappeared from Lorgar's hands and back into his coat. Lorgar walked towards the bed, and cautiously took a seat. Now, you said you wanted to commit high treason. And something else. Please, do start with the minor of these, I prefer to not have the high treason plans overshadowing the other thing." "A squad of Vigilants are causing a ruckus in the Imperial City. My agent's tell me there hunting something. They don't know what....but apparently , one of them was seen showing a certain book to a merchant, asking questions. That book...was Camille. Who or what are they after?" "Ah, Trym Heart-Hand," Samuel shook his head a little. "He's after me and Maggie. And any other vampire in the city. We have the situation under control, as far as that is possible. You getting involved would only make things worse; Vigilants are not above declaring you worthy of being put to the Light, as they would say." Lorgar's face filled with worry at the mention of Maggie, but soon went back to it's normal stoic self. "If you have it under control, I wont meddle...." Lorgar started to stroke his beard, before saying half-jokingly, "This whole incident was caused by Camilla, right? Cant fathom how some Yuri could cause such trouble for you and Maggie." "A book that contained a plot that was in the range of what the Order is. While I don't believe this is a deliberate choice by Maggie, anyone who knows a thing or two about vampires would be suspicious of the book itself. And anyone hunting the Order would likely try to get in contact with Ro- I mean Magdela. However, I am not convinced this book is the only reason he is after us. Anyway, this is a matter you best stay out of. Involving yourself will make it worse for Maggie; it would bring too much attention to this issue." "As I said, I wont mettle." Lorgar's face filled with dread, as he switched topics, "Now if that's settled...I found some...very disturbing information in a book" "And said information is?" Samuel raised an eyebrow, looking more interested in him getting to the point, rather than going around it "The book in question was...extremely old. Dated 2nd era I found it at a rare books store, I was on a date-outing with someone. It's called "Forgotten Magic's of Tamriel. One thousand gold pieces later, and hours of reading it...it talked about, in detail a man know not for his name or face, only that he most likely lived in the Metheric era. It talked about...binding rituals....very similar to what the court mage appartley used on Empress Dales. Furthermore, I don't care how the mage learned such magic, but it went into...gruesome details on the type of magic, and control the spell holds over the person. "And now you want to make a move against the new court mage in the White-Gold." "I can’t let that man control Dales, I won’t. As her sworn servant, I must protect her, and this man is currently a massive threat to her." "But since she is controlled by the court mage, acting against him will have you charged with high treason. Sounds like a familiar position. In its own way, it is a lot like the Stormcloaks rebellion against the Empire; they too couldn't do what they thought was right without being considered traitors. But I need more than that if I am going to help you. I need specifics on how you hope to accomplish this. And I need to know why you thought it to be a good idea to come to me with this. After all, I am an information broker. Trusting me with anything has its risks. I am not saying I have any intentions of betraying you, merely trying to understand why you act as you do.” "Because...I have no other choice. I'm taking a gamble with you...And yes, I have a basis to start on a way to unbind Dales, if you hear me out," Samuel looked at him, now with a raised eyebrow. Not in a skeptical way, but one that told Lorgar that he wanted him to go on without having to say the word. "According to the book, on the ancient Nordic tablet that described the magic, the words "Sil Cairn" were on it. "Sil Cairn" roughly translates into "Soul Cairn" in common." Lorgar folded his hands, "I presume you know what the Soul Cairn is, master Samuel?" "I know about as much as any mortal can I suppose, but I never was a necromancer. I don't have any intimate understanding of the place; you'd want a master of the arts of necromancy for that." "Of course. I researched it intensely at the arcane university, and talked to a few former Synod members. The Soul Cairn is a realm of Oblivion, independent of any Daedric prince and ruled instead by a group of mysterious figures only known as the "Ideal Masters". Details on the geography of the place is extremely sketchy at best, with only a tiny description appearing in the infamous "Doors of Oblivion" being described as "Dark, and horrifying, filled with Undead monstrosities" . Anyway's what I did gather, was almost all the magic that is drawn from there is powered by soul gems, as a "price" you have to pay to the Ideal masters. However, while most soul gems are consumed when used, some powerful spells require the soul gem to be active and remain, as a conduit for the spell. Binding someone's soul to your very essence and obey your every order fits that criteria." "And you want my help in finding out if he is indeed using a soul gem, and, if that is the case, how you can interrupt the magic so the Empress can be free of his control. This is a very extensive task you want me to carry out, Lorgar. Even for me this would be extremely difficult, meaning it would be extremely expensive for you." "Half-right, I can figure out the second part myself. And for the first part, I can give you a starting point. The mage mentioned, taking the "Princess somewhere" safe to perform the ritual, meaning he has a lair of some sorts. Which is most likely located somewhere in his homeland, Skyrim. And about the money, I can afford it. Blackwood was a...very wealthy fief when I acquired it. Add that with my salary afforded by both my position as Lord-Major and Royal Spymaster...let's just say I need somewhere to spend my money." Lorgar slowly took out a cigar, lighted it, and smoked. He eyed Samuel warily, "You don't have to take the job." "I doubt it," Samuel replied, referring to the comment about Lorgar being able to figure out the part about how to interrupt the spell himself. "This is magical power up and beyond that of any normal practitioner of the arts. Simply disrupting the spell might have severe side-effects on the Empress. If her soul is tied to him, the last thing you want to is to act without knowing what can happen. And you can't go to any official groups about this, in case the court mage finds out. And I do have to take the job, at least from your perspective. Without me and my resources, your attempts will have failed before they begun." " Very True. But it won’t stop me trying on my own." "Of course not, even though it should. But I suppose it doesn't matter. The price for the job is 25,000 gold, plus potential additional fees, depending on how difficult it turns out to be." "Expensive, but everything of such value is. Deal." Lorgar's eyes darkened, "But don't double cross me. If you do...it'll be more then a punch in the face from me." Lorgar left those words Ambiguous. Samuel regarded him with what seemed to be... amusement? That couldn't be right, could it? "Lorgar, you're making a pointless threat. Disappointing really. If I chose to cross you, I'd be thorough enough to make sure you wouldn't be in a position to take revenge on anyone. You might be a powerful creature, but there is more than just physical power. And you are threatening someone who has defeated more powerful people than you without ever lifting a blade. Be mindful of who you are talking to, the next time you feel like threatening someone. In the Imperial City... it rarely serve you for the better. There is so much red tape here that this can easily be described as the heart of my power. And if you want to know what that means, you can always ask Marius why he left the Imperial Legion." "Physical power, as you call it, has won conflict after conflict, on the other side, so had words and other forms of non-violence. But heed me vampire, I'm not an idiot as I seem to be, I can lie very well. And I also know about what happened at that camp in Falkreath. Unlike Marius, vengeance doesn't blind me, you treated the situation as business, he treated it personally. That's why he's probably drinking his sorrows away, or getting into some man-whores pants as we speak. I treat this as business, and as long as you remember that, we'll be perfectly fine Do you know how the chosen of Hircine gain power? They rip the hearts out of there prey." "It has indeed, but it cannot win every conflict. And it cannot win a conflict between the two of us. Even if you kill me now, you've doomed yourself. The best you can get is a draw, and that is if I don't manage to escape. Not to mention that there are numerous failsafe plans in the case of my death in my network. But don't worry; this is just business. Now, unless you intend to trigger said failsafes, I assume we are done here?" "We are..." Lorgar got off the bed, put his black Beret on, and walked towards the door. Before leaving the room, he smiled, and flashed his fang-like teeth, "Oh...I researched your name, through inquiries, I stumbled upon a very intimidating nick-name, "Demon of a thousand faces", does that ring a bell by any chance "Samuel"? "Would you believe me if I said no?" "No...no I would not..." And with that Lorgar left the room.

Maggie and Skjari Imperial Palace before dawn Maggie lay awake next to the Witch King, watching him. He slept deeply, like mortals, though she could hardly think of him as such. It was still a mystery to her what he was. He was quite unlike anything she had experienced. She had only rarely slept with those of her own kind, which brought with it too many complications and expectations. The mortals whom she could easily manipulate were safer. Nor did she need to be here for the sake of influence in the palace. The empress was generous enough to her without that, and had made it clear earlier that day that Maggie could have more influence with her if she wanted. So why had she left the empress and gone to Skjari? It was bad business for a courtesan to offer herself to someone without gaining something of real value in it. Her allure was as much in making men believe they couldn't have her as that they could. There was some safety here. He was the closest thing she had to a peer without Order connections, which were all tainted by her father's pull. Perhaps that was reason enough. And the sex... Her thoughts were interrupted by the wizard's expression changing. He was still deep asleep, but his face hardened and his teeth clenched. Maggie watched, fascinated. He was dreaming. It was no pleasant dream, judging by the tension in his expression. Should she wake him? Maggie rose from the bed and threw on the dressing gown she now kept in his quarters, then sat back down on the bed. "My lord," she ventured quietly. When he didn't react, she reached out a hand, touching his chest. "Skjari." Skjari opened his eyes and quickly sat up like he was going to rush out of the bed. He breathed heavily for a second like he was catching his breath and then let out a sigh. He brought his right up and rubbed his eyes with thumb and index finger, he had a troubled expression on his face. Not a word came from his mouth but he instead stared down towards the footing of the bed with eyes filled with fear and sorrow. Maggie watched him a while, then stood and poured a glass of water, brought it back to the bed and reached it out to him. "A dream, my lord. Whatever it was, it's in the past now." She waited, then added, "Perhaps long past?" He grabbed the glass and instead of drinking the water he splashed it into his face then shook the head a little. "A long past... that never stops haunting my dreams," he said with a distant and slightly bitter voice. With the back of her fingers, Maggie gently brushed at the dripping water on his neck. "This happens often?" "Every night." He closed his eyes and let his head drop. Astonished, Maggie let her hand fall to his shoulder, though not seductively as she otherwise might, rather a comforting gesture. "That is why I am here," she said, hazarding a guess. "Yes." He did not lift his head or even open his eyes when he spoke in a tone that sounded like he had tasted defeat. Withdrawing her hand, Maggie said, "Not for the same reasons, but I suppose it is that for me, as well. My time with you... It is difficult for me to admit, but I have rarely felt..." She stopped, then began again. "With you I can forget myself, for a time. That is most unusual." Skjari was quiet for a couple of seconds before looking up at Maggie. "Hard life?" "Some would call it pampered. Still, there are many expectations put on me, and always the illusions I must maintain in society. Power comes at a cost." She glanced at him. "Do you still see her? Is it she who appears in your nightmares?" "Sometimes." Maggie considered this. "In my book I wrote that you grew weary of life and put yourself in the twilight sleep once you had a successor who could take your place. But I think that this was not correct. You saw your kingdom fall?" He chuckled a little, seemingly amused for a second before it faded away. "For all my failings, that was not one them. But it wouldn't have surprised me if it fell one year after I left." "You had a son then?" Maggie stretched out again next to him, propping her head on her hand. "No, I never had a child but..." He was quiet for a couple of seconds. "She was..." His eyes grew distant as if he had lost himself in a memory. "She was with child," the countess supplied quietly. That explained a great deal. "What about your family? Did you have brothers, sisters?" "Dead," he said in a bitter tone. "All dead." He then looked at her. "What about you?" "I have a brother and a sister." Maggie paused, then added, "That I know about." She sat up again, and stood, slowly walking across to the window. They were high above the Imperial City, and the sun was beginning to come up, catching the glint off Lake Rumare. "I cannot say that I'm glad for them. Our power may seem petty compared to what you once held, but that makes it more difficult to share it. Impossible, perhaps." Glancing back at the bed, she asked, "Could you have destroyed your own family, if they were your enemies, instead of the elves you battled?" "And what would we have fought over? Wood? My family were woodcutters, and they died before I could even grow my first chin hair." "You were a commoner." This surprised her more than anything he had yet revealed. "Then who taught you to wield magic? I can't imagine this was a common art among the woodcutters of ancient Skyrim." He had an empty stare in his eyes as he spoke. "No, but everything I had and knew was destroyed in one of the elves' raids. Alone and close to starvation, I was found out in the wilderness by a coven. At first it was similar to a mage guild except that they had some minor studies in necromancy. The leaders were three female mages, later they became witches and then hagravens in their quest for power." His mind was screaming for him to shut up, but the words just flowed out of his mouth. "That's where I met her. But she was framed by one the three elven members and she was executed, while all I could do was watch. A few years later I killed the hagravens and took over. Soon thereafter I ran an army and later ruled the whole of Skyrim." This was more words than the wizard had spoken to her since she'd known him. "You made your own destiny from the ashes," Maggie said, her voice more animated than she intended. "I envy your freedom, Skjari, though you suffered a great deal for it to come about. You answer to no one. Not even to the empress who brought you here." He had now lost the empty stare and looked at her with a slight curiosity in his eyes. "And how did you become what you are now?" "My father conducted the rite." These were secrets that she had never spoken aloud to anyone, and her life would be forfeit if it were known that she had, but the words came out anyway. "It is a death of sorts, so you can imagine that it isn't pleasant. I woke from a days-long nightmare with more vigor and clarity than I'd ever possessed, but hungry. So hungry. He brought my nanny, who'd been my wetnurse when I was a baby. She probably always knew what would happen to her someday when she was no longer needed, but it wasn't necessary to make me do it. That was my father's idea of a test. I drank her dry. Mother's milk for my new life. I was eighteen years old." Maggie found that she was shaking. She sank into a chair. "Power always comes at a cost. That was some twenty years before you and I met in the ruin." "I always felt I paid my price long in advance. Did you grow up in the mountains or in Skingrad?" Recovering her calm, Maggie answered, "Mostly in the mountains. I was sent into the world sometimes, disguised or as an unknown, in order to prepare me. Otherwise all I would have known of the world was my own family, and wouldn't have made a very convincing performance in high society. I spent some time in a Breton brothel learning the arts of a courtesan, for instance. Skingrad was always where we meant to live. My extended family has long ruled there in one form or another." She paused and said, "You have kept your vigor, more than the usual shriveled old wizard. I think you must have slept for a long time, yes?" He looked away, out the window. "I don't even know how old I am. All I know is that was born before Ysgramor and Atmora." He turned his eyes back at her. "What happened with you after we parted ways in my old ruin?" She smiled ruefully. "I had a bit of trouble over that little adventure. Somehow my father found out about our meeting. He must have been watching us. I was locked in my rooms and saw no one but him for months afterward, other than a servant who was forbidden to speak to me. That is when I wrote your story, or what I imagined your story to be. Maybe you can understand why that chance meeting always meant something to me. Of course I could have gone into the twilight sleep myself if I had wanted to, but I dislike it. As you said, you wake and don't know how much time has passed or what has happened to the world. Was Skyrim very changed when you saw it again?" "That explains why I felt that there was something... else in the ruin." He smiled a little for half a second. "You can imagine the surprise when I saw that my old citadel and the whole capital was gone and found frozen wasteland in it's place. Winterhold was warmer back then, but then again Haafingar and Hjaalmarch was colder. My biggest surprise though was that the dragons were gone. But that seemed to have changed now, I wonder if some of them still remember me." "I studied the events in Skyrim a bit for my latest book, but I'm not sure how much of it is true. They've been hunted nearly to extinction once more. If the stories are true, then most of them will never come back again. That seems a great shame to me, even if it was necessary. In your time, did you know these dragons as friends or enemies?" "I wouldn't call any of them friends. But I wouldn't say we were their enemies. Although they weren't nice creatures they were viewed as children of Bormahu, or Akatosh as he is now called, our most revered god. But the Dragon Temple was crumbling when I took power because of daedric cults cropping up in the land. I wiped out these cults and reinstated the Dragon Temple as the dominant religion in Skyrim. The Dragon Temple even forged and blessed my sword as a form of thanks. And being on the dragons good side proved useful as a few even aided me in the my wars. Though I can honestly say that Alduin was quite an arrogant prick to deal with." He did a small frown with his face as he mentioned Alduin. Maggie laughed at his choice of words. "The immortal has a hard time respecting the mortal. Perhaps if there were more still living who could speak with the dragons, this latest war with them would have taken another course. You will have noticed the dragon symbolism here in our capital. My Heartland forefathers were slaves to the elves, and owe their freedom to the dragon god, as the historians tell it. Though my family are also of very old Nord lineage. It would be interesting to know if yours and mine were linked somehow." She recalled something from her discussion with the ghost in the ruin, and said, "Tell me of your 'Wraiths.' Your sentry spoke of them." "They were my elite. Some of the-, if not the best magicians and swordsmen in the land. It was largely due to them that I managed to hold onto power for so long. They could work as spies, assassins, soldiers, guards and so on. They were like an extension of myself." He did not like what she could ask next and decided to change subject. "Why did you start writing books?" Maggie had more questions about his magic, but guessed that he was changing the subject on purpose. Since she recalled his warning about having destroyed all knowledge of how he maintained his power, it was better left alone. To his question she replied, "My mother liked to write. Letters, mostly. I was so lonely that I would take and read them, too. From that and inspired by the history and story books in our library, I began to create stories of my own. In writing I was free. I could go anywhere, and make up lives more interesting than my own." With a little smile she added, "I found out much later that my father employed clerks to write to my mother, pretending to be all sorts of people. There were few real correspondents she could safely communicate with, back then. I'm not sure that Mother would even mind if she knew. I suppose that her letters quite like my novels in that way. How was it that you found my book? You recognized yourself in it? Your name, Witch King, must have been a clue." "I heard about a book, and the description of it's story was something I found to be too similar to our little incident. So I decided to read it myself. I recognized some things about myself but also found some things to be the product of your wild imagination." He chuckled a little at the last part. "You mention your father quite a lot." At mention of her father, Maggie's smile vanished. "He's a powerful man. Until recently I did not even realize how much. I admire him, after a fashion, but there is no love between us. If I don't satisfy his wishes, then eventually..." She paused, finding it difficult to put to words. "He will destroy me. Perhaps sooner rather than later. I'm reckless, he says, and that part is true. However my greater crime is not bowing sufficiently to his control. His pride cannot bear that." "You sure know how to make friends with the nicest of people," he said in a sarcastic tone. Laughing, Maggie replied, "Don't I now. Welcome to Cyrodiil, Lord Skjari. Though I imagine it is much the same anywhere where there is power for people to fight over. The Thalmor have been manipulating these power balances for over thirty years, and now you and the empress have shifted things yet again. Are you confident in her?" "I think she will manage. And even though Cyrodiil is quite different from my old kingdom I think my experience will be able to help her with that. But now I think we've had enough talk but not enough action." He smiled a little devious smile with the right corner of his mouth. "Are you weary of my talking?" Maggie smiled coyly and rose to her feet, the dressing gown falling half open as she did so. She took her time in crossing to his side of the bed. Reaching out a hand, she stroked his cheek with one finger. "Sometime when you are weary of this whole city, you must let me show you a bit of Cyrodiil. We can go in secret if you wish. Perhaps you would be interested in the doomstones." As she spoke, Maggie's finger trailed from his cheek to his chest, and she began to climb on top of him. "They have little magical power, but are a strange curiosity nonetheless. There is a Dragon Stone..." Leaning forward, Maggie touched his forehead with her lips, then moved slowly along his cheek on the way to his mouth. "And a Lover's Stone. I would especially like to show you that one." It was all too obvious, as her tongue slid along his lip, what she envisioned doing there.

Honmund, Aenin Gallows Rock Midday The outer wall of Gallows Rock appeared before them, with the sentry yelling to the rest that the "boss was in sight". Moments later, a figure he'd recognize at a mile away peeked over the walls. Even from here, Honmund could see the scolding expression on her face. He smiled; nothing like being around her. As soon as Frei had appeared, she disappeared again, probably to work on her alchemy. She seemed to have little interest in what went on around her, as long as people left her alone. Well, left her alone to the degree that it didn't interfere with said people getting her the ingredients she wanted. In truth, Honmund couldn't understand her all that much. Or how they had ever gotten involved. The meeting? Sure, he knew that part; she was stranded in his territory after a shipwreck, which was far from unusual, but how fast she had moved to the top of his group was more than a little unnerving. Sometimes he felt that she could have overthrown him at any time, but kept him around because it was better for her to have someone else in charge. Would give her more time to the Alchemy. His group passed through the outer gates of the fortifications that had been erected. As usual, all people who passed by gave him a bow or raised their right arm to their chest as a sign of respect. Frei was nowhere to be seen, surely back in her lab. "Honmund! Sir!" an Imperial came running over to him. "Sir, I have bad news. One of our scouts says that one of the groups we were about to absorb was attacked by a Stormcloak General." "And when are you going to get to the part which is important?" Honmund shot back with an annoyed tone. Why couldn't people just get to the point? He didn't give two Dunmer whore's asses about one of these small bandit groups before they were a part of his army. And the groups had their orders for such situations. "Yes, Sir... the man who attacked them, a general we think, is on his way towards Eastmarch." Honmund lifted an eyebrow. "So he might have heard rumors about us. Great, now we'll have to deal with the army. If we're lucky, this guy is amendable to reason. If not, he is dead and so are we. Aenin," he turned to the man who had led the rearguard of his band. "What do you think?" "Hmm...I don't like it. We don't know anything about this General or how he'll act. The only General I've heard of is Galmar Stone-Fist and Baldur Red-Snow. Don't know much about the latter. The former isn't likely to be very trusting of us. But, we have to make contact with them eventually. And it's not like we have a choice in the matter. Either we meet him now or he destroys our base. But you already knew all of that, Honmund. You pretty much got it. Confront him and hope he sees reason. Doubt he'd want to lose men if he can afford not to." said Aenin, who was a bit on edge. He wasn't sure what Honmund's mood would be like. Probably not good if all this didn't go down well. We was in charge of the activities of the men while Honmund was away. If this went south, it would be on him. "not entirely true, what you said. I've been given a quick briefing on the generals in the Stormcloak army by one of my contacts. Unless he's newly promoted, we'll have some basics about him, if we can find out his name." Honmund waved to Aenin to follow him into the keep, and implicitly to his private quarters. What Frei had said not too long ago made him a tad more careful around this camp, just in case. Once there, the only company they had was Frei herself, and the sounds coming from her table. "Honmund, love, you're back," without even looking up she addressed him in a distant tone. "Could you order that mer-blooded moron that follows you around to get me more of the standard items? I am starting to run low on them. Ohh, you're here," she gave Aenin a quick glance. "Well? You heard me." "Mer-blooded moron? Y-, uh...I mean..." Aenin looked from Frei to Honmund, not exactly sure which to listen to. He always hated when that happened. Angering Frei was never a good idea, so he figured he'd try yielding to her more, dispite her insult. Aenin bit his lip for his mistake and tried to rectify it immediately. "I mean, of course. Honmund wanted to speak with me but if you want me to go fetch your items..." "You stay here. Frei, go tell one of the others to get your stuff, Aenin is mine in the near future," Honmund dismissed her orders with a gesture of his hand, showing Aenin to a chair by a table. Sometimes that woman was insufferable. But she still listened to him, most of the time. And if he needed someone to do something important she had the perspective to stay out of it. Letting Honmund run this gang equaled her being left alone, so he still had the final say in most cases. She scoffed and put aside whatever it was that she was working on, before she walked out of the room with a roll of her eyes. Why was she here again? Honmund often had to ask himself that. Of course, the answer was self-evident, even without the personal reasons; she was a brilliant alchemist. Her recipes and potions alone brought in a lot of gold through trade, and she kept the place disease free. "So," Honmund continued, taking a seat across the small table from Aenin. "You're in the Legion, and the Stormcloaks are based on them. What do you suggest? I have my own thoughts, but I'd like to hear yours." Aenin leaned back in the chair and thought about it for a while. How he'd respond in the Legion sometimes blurred with how he'd respond now. But it eventually came to him. "Well, it generally depends on who you're dealing with. If it were any typical general or legate from the legion, they'd likely give you the speech of never surrendering, but after being pressed, they'd see reason and give in for the sake of their men. Legion leaders are taught to take care of their men. They wouldn't sacrifice them needlessly. If this guy was in the legion, he'd likely do the same. Especially if he's new. Wouldn't look good to lose all your men so early. But then again....this is Skyrim. The only thing these nords respect is strength. You know that better than anyone. You show what...he may be willing to speak out of respect of a fellow nord warrior. In fact, yea that would be the better idea. You ever play chicken, boss?" "You assume much, saying that Nords only respect strength. Hopelessly lacking in nuance, even if it is technically true. I've been in most ports in Skyrim and Morrowind, and I've come to realize that the Nords of Skyrim realize that strength can mean a lot of things. You'd do well to remember that, now that we are playing this game of generals and warlords." Honmund walked over to his cabinet and took out a couple of bottles of mead. It was Honningbrew, with snowberries. He'd preferred the Honningbrew over the Black Briar ever since he came to Skyrim. Still, not quite Ashfire, but still good enough. Maybe a little harder than he should, he put the bottle meant for Aenin on the table in front of him. "Chicken? The closest thing to a game I played was 'I'm going to beat you until you fight back'. I grew up in Thirsk and later among Reavers." Aenin smiled slightly, knowing that his words hit a nerve a bit. But he wouldn't press the matter further. "Chicken is when you and another person mount horses and you place a bet on who will chicken out first after you charge eachother head on. No matter how big your balls are, you always veer off just before impact. And no one thinks any less of either side. I think that if we catch him off guard and put him in a position that would cause him to lose many of his men, then he'd be a lot more likely to listen to reason, as long as you don't ask for his surrender. Because we'd also likely lose a lot of men and neither side would really win. Basically, we'll both veer off." Honmund noticed the little smile that spread across the lips of the battlemage, but knew that he'd have the last laugh. If Aenin thought he'd be able to hit a nerve that easily, he'd be surprised. But it did serve as a confirmation that Aenin knew better than to ignore what he had said, which was good enough for now. "So, we're essentially in agreement here; the best way to deal with this general is to appeal to his reason. We need to get out scouts, to see where he is going, and we need to prepare both this camp and Mistwatch for siege and to send reinforcement. if we're lucky, it is not us he is after, but we can't count on that." he took a sip of the mead, after taking in the smell. He didn't notice anything strange about it, so none of the more obvious poisons had been added to it. Frei had though him that the deadliest poisons were the ones you didn't notice, but he wasn't that paranoid. Besides, only he and Frei had the keys to this room and Frei could have just put the poison in the potions she regularly gave him. For her, using the mead would have been a waste of time. Besides, Frei often complained that she was the only one who knew anything about alchemy around here and had no one to talk about it with. "You should also try to convince him that we're not ordinary bandits. In fact we should stop thinking of us as such. We're...a warrior band. Like the Companions. Yea, I like that. That's what we tell him. That way he gets the idea. We're here to help for mutual benefit. Surely he'll see the wisdom in what we're doing. Putting the lowlives of this land to good use. After your little speech, I'm sure the men are already getting the idea. Unless this general is stupid, he should see reason. Even if he is a nord general." Aenin let slip another smirk. It was dangerous, but Aenin liked to test Honmund every now and then. It was good practice for his self control. Another instance of Aenin "helping" when it wasn't asked of him. Honmund just rolled his eyes. The small jabs from the Breton were too easy to see through, which was why he hadn't already taken him out in the courtyard and beat him to a bloody pulp for being disrespectful. "Yes, because I have treated this band like bandits," there was a tone of sarcasm to his voice. It was true though, he hadn't treated them like bandits at all. They were an army. Small for an army, for now, but still an army bigger than most warlords ended up with before they either became officially recognized or killed. But presenting themselves as a group of warriors who where whipping the lowlives into shape was a good way to present it to the Stormcloaks. "You haven't treated them as such, but what we're doing here is rather unusual for this day and age. A lot of the new men see it as just another bandit gang, albeit more professional. The Reavers were just another bandit gang, I was just another bandit leader. Even if the people of Skyrim knew all there was to know about us, they'd still see us as outlaws. I.E. bandits. Hmm...I wonder. How many nords does it take to tell the difference between a bandit gang and a warrior band? Haha! Guess we'll find out." "Outlaws? The past of each man and woman here, yes. But we are not breaking any laws, since we only target other outlaws. We make most of our money trading, not pillaging. But I see your point. We'll have to see what he thinks. If only we had his name, then we'd get an idea about him." He looked over at Frei's alchemy lab. It was a lot more extensive than those you commonly found, to suit her needs. Why she needed such an advanced setup was beyond him, like most of what she did on it. "This group seems to have been more at home in High Rock, than Skyrim." "They'll get over it. And as for the outlaw comment, once an outlaw always an outlaw. At least in spirit. At most, you can suppress it. But never assume it's gone fer good. Should I prepare the men to move out? Also, I can have some scouts go ahead of us and see if they can't get us a description of this general." said Aenin as he stood from his chair, anxious to get things moving. "If you think that you cannot change a man, you've seen little. Are you really the same as you were in the Legion?" "Hmm..." Aenin started to rub his chin as he pondered on the question. "Maybe I was always this way, Honmund. Maybe I just finally let myself out of the cage." "Maybe. I've never been one to fight for something like I am now, but now I see it as natural. Just as natural it was for me to run my own little Reaver band. You my not believe it, but I believe what I said in the speech, even if I wouldn't have a year ago. A man can change, Aenin, remember that." He took another sip of the mead. It was still nearly full; he hadn't been in the mood to drink lately. "Anyway, you do what you need to do. I'm gonna see if I can't make Frei purr like a cat." More like howl like a bitch. Shouldn't be hard. "Will do, Boss. You have fun." Aenin made his way out finally, leaving Honmund to himself. He doubted full well that men could change. But then again, Honmund had proven him wrong before. If this was gonna work in the long run, he'd need to be right.

Gracchus, Dales Imperial Palace Afternoon Dales was currently dressing herself, and unlike those pampered Milk-drinkers at court, she didn't need maids to do it. She was getting into her blue and violet dress. She was going to spending most of the day in the gardens, with Nami. She just had to deal with some business with General Ceno first, she suddenly heard knocking, and her door guard, William, voice could be heard, "Your Excellency, Lord-General Ceno is hear." "Good, William send him in..." Gracchus entered, dressed in his silver and black Imperial General's chest plate with his silver cape, the dragon emblem in black on the back. He took a deep bow. "Hello, your majesty." "Good day to you general." She spoke in a firm, yet friendly voice. She smiled slightly before saying, "I'm...quite busy today, so if you wouldn't mind. I would very much like to get straight into business" "Of course. The courier didnt specify what exactly you wanted to see me for, so you'll probably want to start with that." Gracchus grabbed a chair and sat down, facing the Empress. "I need you to go to Hammerfall, and organize them sending a ambassador over to the Imperial City." Gracchus was mildly shocked, as he hasn't expected to be returning to Hammerfell any time soon. "Will that be my only duty? I'd heard that they were somewhat trepidatious at the Nord alliance with us." "Yes." Sensing the shock emitting from him she quietly said, "If you dont want to do it, I could send Tullius or Lorgar to handle it." "No, mi'lady, I will be more than happy to oblige." Gracchus looked at his boots, somewhat nervous to ask the question on his mind. "If I may, your majesty, I recently discovered my elderly mother is still alive...and I would like to stay here in the Imperial City a little longer before I go." "Your mother? If you want to spend time with her, it's no problem I'll send someone else." Gracchus sighed, somewhat flustered that the Empress wished someone else to go. "No, I am glad you chose me, I just would like to wait a little before I go. Unless you wanted me to leave immediately, I would gladly wait a week or two." "Of course..." Gracchus stroked his goatee for a moment, before leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, and spoke softly to the princess. "Is everything alright? You seem to be, if you'll pardon me, somewhat uptight, rigid almost." "Duty, dear General, duty..." And with that, Dales stretched out and said, "Now if are business is done, dear Gracchus, I have things to attend to." Gracchus stood, and bowed again. "I will leave you then. But a word of advice, Dales. Have fun. You've worked so hard up to this point, changing the entire philosophy of the Empire, and you owe it to yourself to have fun. But duty must come first." Gracchus walked to the door, but turned around and said, "I'll leave in a week of two. I'll be sure to send word of my arrival via letter if I can. Good day Empress."

Lorgar Grim-Maw Afternoon, Imperial City, Lorgar straightened out his coat, and listened to his command staff bitch. His second in-command, Commander Letius Mario, wouldn’t stop bringing up some anonymous tip they received, about an apparent assassination attempt, Lorgar waved his hand, “If this tip bothers you so much, commander, why don’t you send some people to check it out and see if it’s creditable?” Commander Mario responded, “I’ve told you sir; I don’t have any men available!!!” Lorgar sighed. Before being transferred to the Pentiulas Occulatus, he knew only one person in the room. Lieutenant-Commander Marie Imperius, Marius’s niece. When she was younger, Lorgar would see her all the time, and would call him “Uncle Grim”. Lorgar shot her a glance as if to say “Help me”. Though normally extremely stoic, Marie shot Lorgar a slight smile. She told the assembled officers, “Don’t bother Major Grim-Maw, sir, I’ll handle it.” She said coldly. Mario had a pleased look about him, and he nodded. And with that, Lorgar yawned tiredly, “All right then. Our business is done.” All the soldiers saluted crisply, and moved to leave the room. However, Lorgar called out, “Wait, Lieutenant-Commander Imperius, I have something to discuss with you.” Marie looked at Lorgar puzzled, before nodding and going back to her seat. Though she tried to hide it, Lorgar could see the exhaustion emitting from her. Her movement was sluggish, and black bags sat under her eyes. Lorgar cleared his throat, and said bluntly, “How much sleep have you had in the last three days Marie?, and donâ’t try to lie, I can tell if you do.” Marie blushed, before saying, “Three hours sir.” Lorgar didn’t even bother to speak as if he was requesting this, it was an order, “Take the rest of the week off.” “What?!, sir- She tried to blurt out. “Don’t even try to argue. Your not at your peak physical condition, you need to relax. Go on a date with Lorance tonight. He was talking about her Fiancé, her child-hood sweat-heart. “Sir, I don’t even think she’s-“ “Don’t care.” She mumbled something under her breath, before crisply saluting, “Yes sir. Thank you sir.” And with that, she left the room. Leaving Lorgar alone, with a bored look, and a cigar in his mouth.

Brund Hammer-Fang, Baldur Red-Snow Solitude Midnight "Ulfric, please! Let me prove myself! I can show you that I am worthy!" Ulfric looked at the large nord before him with indifference before he spoke. "Brund. You are a good general. A great general. That is the job you were born to have. But High General....requires more than what you can offer. I have reached my decision." "No, no no I c-" "My lord! I am back from my trip and I am ready to accept my position!" Baldur came through the front of the Blue Palace in the middle of their conversation. He had just got back from his trip with Rebec finally, who was staying in the Winking Skeever waiting for him so that they could celebrate his new position. The Grim Ones had grown in number lately and were now being partly used to guard the castle in place of the ordinary guards. They watched as their beloved general made his way up to their King, his back bearing his Kingdom's bear insignia on his cape proudly, the cape swaying behind him as it slid over the stairs he now walked upon. Baldur put his shield over his back, then bowed to his King and Queen. Moreso his King. Elisif watched as he came up like a champion, his men all watching him in reverence, donned in that beautiful Necro Nord armor. She was glad that Rebec wasn't around to see her blush or to see her legs quiver. She wanted Baldur since the first time he came from Camp Rommulas, so triumphantly. Even if he was a Stormcloak. Ulfric noticed and he never really cared. Neither of them fooled themselves completely into thinking they were together. They both hated each other. It was all an act. Elisif wanted to keep her station and lifestyle, and Ulfric wanted to quickly smooth things over with the Imperial supporting populace. Nothing more nothing less. So he reveled in the opportunity to bring up Rebec and Baldur's relationship in front of her every chance he got. "Baldur the Unkindled! Hope you two had plenty of chances to try and make babies!" Baldur gave out a loud bellowing laugh, which said "Yes, yes we did", not knowing about, or caring about Elisif's affections. "Yes, my liege, and may many many more chances come from this day forward. Like tonight after High Admiral meets High General. It's almost like a tale. I think I'll make a song of it later." Brund was in the room, yet no one payed him any attention despite his large mass and snarling face. It was also the same with Elisif. "NO! Fuck you and your damn songs, lets settle this like men!" Baldur looked over to Brund like one looked over to a whiny child crying and annoying company. "Oh, Brund. I didn't see you there. What upsets you so that your mouth would drop its foam all over our lord's royal floor? Are you rabid?" Brund drew a small waraxe from his waist and dropped it in front of the bowing Baldur. "I challenge you to a duel to the death! The winner will be the official High General!" Ulfric didn't like his decision being challenged this way, but he was interested to see what Baldur would do, as was everyone in the Palace. Elisif let herself become overwhelmed with emotion from fear for Baldur and she ran out of her chair to embrace him in case this was her last chance to do so. Open mouthed, Elisif brought her lips in the direction of Baldur's before he put his gauntleted right hand over her face and shoved her away from him, causing her to stumble to the ground. "Forgive me High King Stormcloak, High Queen Elisif forgets herself." "Haha, no apologies Baldur. Must've had too much wine. Anyway, what say you to this challenge?" Baldur looked to Brund with a smile on his face, one born of confidence and self assurance. "I accept. I beat him once...I can do it again. And again and again." Ulfric was laughing now as were the Grim Ones in the Palace room. Brund was now breathing heavily through his nose like a bull as he stared at his prey. Unable to contain himself. Brund charged to Baldur with his Warhammer drawn. When he swung, Baldur was no longer there. He dashed forward towards the empty palace chair where Elisif was with Brund in hot persuit. When he got to the chair, he took a step on the seat, then the top of the chair and spun around after hopping off of it, sending a fierce heavy kick into Brund's cranium, knocking him over in the process. "Mad charging beast who now lays on the floor, Do better than that or I'll send you to Shor! Forget pride and leave now with your life still in tow, You can't hope to beat me, I am Baldur Red-Snow!" Brund was furious now, and completely forgot himself when he picked up Elisif's chair and threw it at Baldur. The guards were about to move in when Ulfric signaled for them to stand down. Baldur ducked under the chair then drew his axes, then brought them down towards Brund who blocked the attack with the pole of his hammer. Baldur remembered the last time they dueled, and didn't let the contest of strength linger for much longer. Disengaging from the grapple, Baldur jumped back and made sure to keep Brund on the defense. Each strike sent electricity through Brund as he parried and failed to land a blow, but Brund was born under the sign of the Atronach. He absorbed most of the damage, feeling only slight tingles throughout his body. Suddenly Brund burst forward towards Baldur and sent a wild sideways swing that knocked his axes out of his hands as he tried to block the attack. Baldur stumbled upon the floor and was kept in place by Brund's mighty boot. Brund brought his hammer up high and was about to send the spike on it through Baldur's chest when Baldur brought his left leg up and wrapped it around Brund's. Once he did, he pushed his leg to the right and pushed him down, which spun Brund and sent his face flying to the floor. After he did. Baldur with his left leg still locked around Brund's leaned over his back and grabbed his hammer. After he had it, Baldur used it to choke Brund as he leaned backwards, choking off Brund's air supply. Brund was fading quickly. Out of desperation, Brund started rocking side to side until he eventually knocked Baldur from off of his back. Baldur reached for one of his axes, but Brund grabbed his arm and wrapped his legs around them before leaning back on the ground with it, his hands keeping it to his chest while he attempted to break it. Baldur was in trouble. There was nothing he could do but scream out in agony as he felt his arm come close to snapping. "Sir!" Brund looked to Baldur's reddened face in amusement. "Yes, that's it. Might as well get used to calling me that now. After I send you to Sovngarde, that is what you'll be calling me for eternity once I outrank you! And when you're gone, I'll make sure to keep that pretty little Admiral of yours company, hahahaha!" "Sir!" The words came again, but Baldur's mouth did not move...Brund started looking around the room to see where the sound had come from, but he couldn't see who said it. "Sir, wa...!" "Huh?" Baldur stretched his other hand to his gauntlet, ignoring all the pain that this caused, and undid the straps keeping his gauntlet attached to his arm. Once he did, he slipped his arm from out of it, leaving his gauntlet in Brund's grasp. Before Brund could get up, Baldur was already upon him and sent a swift kick to his skull. While Brund was dazed, Baldur grabbed his hammer and started smashing and stabbing him with his very own hammer. The blows were strong enough to be felt through the armor and the spike pierced his armor in multiple locations. When Brund was subdued, Baldur walked over to his axes and made Brund stand up and then pushed him to his knees, placing his axes on his shoulders in preparation for the final blow. "Kill me? Bed my wife? Hehehe. Not even in your dreams. Haaaa!!!!" "Sir, wake up!" ******** "GRWAAAR, NO!" "S-sorry to wake you, sir. The men are ready to move on your ord-" "I'll be out in a second damnit, get out!" Damnit, I was winning! You ruined a perfect dream! Brund bolted up from out of his bed in his tent. He had taken his force of 1,500 and based them around the Rift to investigate rumors of bandit wars. Someone was seizing power if it was true. And if it was, that someone seeked to cause trouble. This was also the area where two Stormcloaks went missing. Normally not a big deal, but an important shipment of weapons and armor also went missing. Brund thought it worth his attention since there was nothing else to do before he turned his attention to the forsworn. The rumors said that it was a rather large force of bandits. Brund would have his work cut out for him. ********* Few hours later. A small group of bandits were running from the fort close to riften when they heard of Honmund and his gang taking over. They walked north through the woods and was traveling up a rather slope hill to avoid the roads. Their leaders were a khajiit who wielded only his claws and wore steel plate armor, and a Bosmer warrior who wielded to orcish short swords and an orcish bow. He was wearing studded leather armor. "I still don't like it, boss. Why do we have to retreat? Our men could rise up against us if they think we're cowards!" "I already told you my Bosmer friend, this guy isn't just another rival gang. He's got himself an army. We wouldn't stand a chance. I saw his fort. Prety well concealed by orcish styled fortification. Lots of men. Nothing our little group can do but move on." "What if we tried tipping off the Stormcloaks? Maybe they could take care of it and then we come in and do what we were already doin." "I already thought of that. I don't want Stormcloaks in the area any more than I want this other guy. They won't just leave the fort alone, they'll occupy it and make a base there and run through the area butchering the lot of us! They've really started cleaning up ever since the damn war was ended." "Yea, b-" "YAAAAAAA!!!!!" Suddenly a thunderous noise could be heard which turned out to be a group of Stormcloak men, all charging downhill with greatswords in their hand. The group of bandits began to sound their retreat but when they turned around, they were met with a line of Stormcloak men from behind with a shield wall, which held them in place to be mercilessly cut down by the berserkers who used the momentum of the downward charge to send their greatswords into the bandits below, who were mostly lightly armored. As their men were being butchered, the Bosmer and Khajiit bandit leaders charged towards a thick part of the woods to escape. They almost made it out when suddenly, "GRAAAWR!" A huge nord came charging out of the woodworks, and closelinded both of the leaders with his huge armored arms, sending the pair somersaulting in the air before they landed unconscious. Brund dragged the two behind him to the men sitting at the foot of the hill combing through all the dead bandits. A few of the berserkers got wounded in the process, one of them died. Brund payed no mind to them. He had what they came for. "Bring these two lowlives to the other fort nearby. Have them bound and leave them in the room I'm staying in for now." ******* A few more hours later A splash of water suddenly met the face of the bosmer leader as his body lay upon a cold stone dusty floor. His head was killing him and the cold water coupled with the cold Skyrim air sent chills that crept to the bone. To a nord, the area felt no colder than fall. To a bosmer it felt like winter, especially when wet. The unfortunate bandit bolted up only to find that he was bound by the feet and hands, and also gagged with what seemed to be rags for loin cloths. Disgust and anger filled the bosmer's mind, but there was nothing he could do about it and eventually he ceased his struggling. When his vision fully came into focus he could see a low light from a fire in the back of the room coming from the fireplace, which revealed the same big surly nord looming over him with his big ugly grin on his face just barely in the low light. He was licking his teeth while chuckling at him...as if hungered. Brund relieved the Bosmer of his disgusting predicament and removed the rag, his rag, so he could talk. The Bosmer spat and coughed for a while before speaking, his face filled with fury. "What do you want, nord?" "Heh...hehehe....hehehehahahaha!" The bosmer looked at the nord with worried curiosity. The way that he was looking at him and licking his teeth was...unnerving...to say the least. Still, he was fully clothed. That was reassuring. Brund began pacing around him slowly...as if he were prey. The Bosmer was now on his knees watching him as he did this. He knew he was in trouble. Big trouble, but he wasn't terrified, despite Brund's little show. That was thanks to the anger of having his mouth stuffed with the loin cloth. "I don't know what you're planning, but if it's what I think it is, get it over with. I've been in your prisons before...." Brund's face grew heavy with rage at the implication, but he was standing behind the bosmer in the darkness of the room as he circled him, so the bosmer didn't see it. He was already in for a world of hurt, but now...now he managed to piss Brund off. "Where's Khnando'Jo? Where's my friend?" Brund smiled briefly and walked off to get a torch. When he came back, he held the light to the left of the Bosmer, revealing his friend bound, gagged and stripped of his armor next to him, still unconscious. Brund undid his armor partly and started pissing on the khajiit's face to wake him up. "GAH, you sick fuck! Where's the rest of the men? Are all you nords so savage? We're prisoners, so take us to a jail!" said the Bosmer. Those were words he never thought he'd ever hear himself say. "Heh, my men aren't here right now. Just me. The rest of them are off guarding the perimeter while I have some fun with you two. No one's ever gonna know what took place in here. No one but you....and me..." The khajiit was wailing and trying to scream out in anger, but he could not from the gag. The thick smell of Brund's piss filled the room, but it was worse for the khajiit, who had it soaked in his furs. It was evident that the nord hadn't drank much water lately, but he clearly had plenty of mead. "How the hell did someone like you ever get in a position to lead Skyrim's soldiers?" "By being careful and keeping my mouth shut mostly. And letting my fighting and past experience do the talking. They know I'm a mean son of a bitch. But that's it. Sadly for you, that was enough for someone like me to slip through the cracks. And speaking of crack...." Brund sent his huge boot straight into the rib cage of the khajiit, cracking his ribs as he did. "Stop! Why are you doing this? You're gonna kill him!" "So? You're bandits. No one cares what happens to you, not really. I can do whatever I want to you two. As for what I want...I want information." "Then why didn't you just ask? All of this is unnecessary!" "Because I want to make it perfectly clear what's gonna happen to you if you lie. And also because you pissed me off when you assumed I touch men! You're a pretty little elf to be sure, hehe, but I ain't no damn Altmer or Breton. So, if you lie, you two won't just die, you'll be brutalized even worse than this. I promise you. If you tell me the truth...I'll let you on your way. I want to know about the bandit activity that's been going on lately. I hear there's a new whore in town and I wanna know what her goodies look like. Get my drift?" "Go to hell." "We're already here." Brund picked up a chair and lifted it over his head. This was the fun part for him. Truth be told, he could have just asked the information and bargained for their lives, but where's the fun in that? Besides...it was a Bosmer and a khajiit. Brund hated mer and beastfolk, but especially mer. He also kept that to himself. For now. Brund began mercilessly slamming the chair into the khajiit's body over and over until the chair was no longer a chair, but useless splintered pieces of wood. "TELL ME!" "Okay okay! I have no loyalty to other bandits! There is a new gang coming into things, but we don't know the details! We don't even necessarily know if they're bandits! They haven't been rumored to attack civilians or soldiers, just other gangs. We heard they either wipe 'em out or absorb them under their banner. Boss said they were over in Mistwatch now. Orc fortifications. That's all I know I swear!" Brund took a dagger off a table nearby and approached the elf, who was now sweating profusely on his approach. Brund put the dagger to his face...and then lowered it to his bonds, which he cut and then he cut the khajiit's bonds as well. The two ran off to the doors as fast as they could, although the khajiit was limping and shaking his head to get the urine out of his fur. The Bosmer was furiously trying to open the door now, but the door for some reason wouldn't budge. "Stupid old fucking door. Hey, the door won't open! What gives?" Brund started laughing again in his same twisted manor as he revealed a key in his hand, which he dropped under his armor past his neck collar. "Come get it, boys." "You said you'd let us out!" "And I will. If you can take it from me! Come! Face the Bull!" The khajiit was the first to charge, being the angrier of the two from being humiliated. The elf was a bit frozen, not wishing to have to fight the nord. He went off to the door and tried picking it with the lockpick he always kept in his hair. The khajiit tried scratching out Brund's eyes, but brund ducked under the swipe and grabbed his arms. After pulling them so the khajiit was spread eagle, Brund sent his boot into his chest which pulled one of the arms out of his sockets. Brund laughed at the pathetic attack and wondered how he managed to kill anyone only using his claws, but he chalked it up to them being milkdrinkers. Brund picked up the khajiit by the neck and slammed his body into a book case, which fell over the cat man in a cascade of books and dust. The elf was furiously trying to pick the lock, but his fingers were sweating, even in the cold and he ended up dropping the pick. Brund was making his way over to him slowly as he watched him amusingly. The Bosmer finally picked up the pick again but in his haste to pick the lock, the pick snapped. There was only one way out of this room now. And that was no way at all. Brund put a hand over the Bosmer's shoulder, almost in a pitying manor. "Aww, sorry that didn't work out..." The Bosmer was now desperate and his fight or flight instincts took over. Flight was now out of the question, which left fight. The Bosmer took a swing at Brund's face, which he did not bother to block or dodge. After his fist met his face, the Bosmer recoiled from the pain in his hand. Brund who was laughing grabbed the bosmer and picked him up and threw him at the wall. He picked the mer up once more and slumped him over his shoulders. Brund pulled an old table out of the corner and dropped the bosmer on it, then he dragged the table to the middle of the room and went back to the bookcase. Brund lifted up the bookcase without much effort, but when he did, he saw that the Khajiit was gone. Brund started searching the room after he grabbed the torch, but he couldn't see the khajiit anywhere. "Here, kitty kitty kitty....hehehehehehahaha! Here kitty kitty kitty! I just wanna play with the *****....hahahaha!" "Tell that to your mother!" Unbeknownst to Brund, the khajiit was trained in illusion magic and had cast an invisibility spell although it was brief. It was enough though for the cat to grab the dagger Brund used to cut their bonds and sneak up on him from behind. Brund didn't know what trick the cat had up his sleeve, but he knew that the cat had to be in the room still and that he would try to sneak up on him. With that in mind, he wasn't surprised to hear the khajiit behind him. Brund tilted his head to the left just barely dodging the dagger and then the general grabbed his arm and pulled it down as hard as he could, breaking the bone and causing great pain to the khajiit who was now yelling and hissing in agony. Before he could try to claw at Brund's head, Brund pulled him by his arm over his back and onto the floor and began beating the cat with his torch, which caught the cat's fur on fire. Brund stood back and watched as the cat comically rolled around on the floor to put out the blaze. Once he did, Brund sent another boot into his gut. Then Brund picked up the bandit leader and threw him up in the air. Before he fell, Brund caught the khajiit by his feet and began swinging the cat around and around in a circle before he finally swung him up and slammed him into the table that the bosmer was laying on, which collapsed it and snapped it partially in half, being an old rotted table. Brund picked up the two soon to be corpses and dropped them on the floor side by side. The Bosmer turned to his friend, which took great effort and tried to speak, but he couldn't. The khajiit tried the same but was silent when Brund's boot was placed on his skull. Brund forced him to watch as he slowly applied pressure to his skull....crushing it slowly and causing great agony for the khajiit as he died. The Bosmer was now sobbing in his grief and fear as Brund placed a foot on his head and realized his death would too be the same. And it was. It wasn't known to the nords in Skyrim, but Brund's dark deeds were known to others. In the Imperial legion. It wasn't looked down upon because of the great war and he was free to do as he saw fit to the mer. It wasn't until after the WGC that it became a problem. That was the reason why he was really never reinstated, not because he was outspoken. The reason was never actually stated though and Brund figured it was because if they were, the Thalmor would try to press for war crime charges on him and the Thalmor would hold the Empire responsible. That is why he knew it was best to keep certain activities under wraps. He wasn't sure how Ulfric would react if he knew. He wouldn't care about the Thalmor of course, but Brund doubted that the High King was anything like what the Imperials said he was like. Which is to say...like Brund. "That was fun. Now...off to Mist Watch."

Maggie, Alef, and Dales Imperial Palace, Evening, Maggie was spending more time in the palace than usual. Its safety was an illusion, but one she found comforting nonetheless. She had seen less of Empress Dales lately, and wondered why, so she went to present herself at the royal quarters. As Maggie approached the royal quarters, she heard moans of pleasure coming from the royal bedroom. The countess stopped short and eyed one of the guardsmen standing at the door. His cheeks were beet red, but he had the professional blank expression of a legionnaire. "I'll come back," Maggie said. "It might be a while, milady." That, from the deadpan guard, made her laugh. She eyed him more closely, and saw that he was young and handsome. Keeping to her palace quarters, she had not had opportunity to feed. Her supply was low. Normally she kept such activity out of the palace, but necessity might require her to take the risk. "It must be a burden for you," she went on, laying a hand on his arm. The guardsman looked down at it, and his cheeks turned two shades darker, almost legion crimson by now. The moans grew slightly louder, and Maggie could actually hear the bed start to shake. Using the sounds from inside the bedchamber as inducement, Maggie ran her hand along the guardsman's arm. The other guard at the door turned to look but he suddenly, inexplicably, lost interest in anything and looked away. Leaning forward, Maggie whispered into the guardsman's ear. As he was about to make some protest about duty, he found himself abruptly unable to resist what she had proposed. They went together around the corner to an alcove. Some minutes later Maggie and the guard came back to the door. His eyes were glazed looking, but otherwise he didn't have a scratch on him. "Thank you, milady," he mumbled, sounding embarrassed. "My dear," Maggie answered with a sweet smile. "Thank you. You will forget this in a short while." She wasn't speaking figuratively. "Oh....your a naughty elf Alef...aren't you?! Your so cute..." Maggie could hear Empress Dale's voice say, along with panting mixed in with more moans "Y-yes, your Majesty," the Dunmer replied, in a much lower voice. She had heard heard what she thought was countess Magdela's voice outside, meaning they might get visitors. In that case, it was better to resume to the position society would expect of her, as a subservient player in a game far above her. "I love your cute-shy like voice, your so adorable..." Said Dales cupping her chin, Dales leaned in and whispered into the dark elf's ears, "Say my name Alef..." Maggie was reluctant to interrupt the empress at a delicate moment, but deciding that it might give her an upper hand, she knocked on the door and then entered quickly. "Oh... oh my. I'm sorry, Excellency. I'll come back later." "Oh...hello Maggie!!!." Dales said with a warm smile, she didn't even bother to cover herself up, her small perky breasts were exposed, and she was drenched in sweat. "It's alright, anything you need? Just say the word" Aleffea was about to comply with the Empress' wishes when Magdela breathed the door. Clever ploy, trying to get her off-guard. Time to make her job easier. "Oh, sorry, your Ladyship," she stumbled out of the bed and tried to cover her body, moving up towards the far end of the chambers. With Dales' mind on her, this should provide some extra edge to the countess. Maggie wasn't surprised to see Aleffea. Tanie, true to her word, had sent a message saying that one of her new ladies was moved to the palace, and Maggie had figured out that it was Alef. It was an admirable job. "Excellency, it was nothing important really. I was going to ask if you had given any thought to what we spoke about earlier. About marriage." The countess smiled serenely, no more perturbed at the bedroom scene than if the two women had been at tea. "Boys..." Dales said, with a sound of dread. At those words her playful smile was put away, and replaced with the face she used in public. She slowly got out of bed, still naked, and went to her Valenwood table. She motioned for Maggie to join her, "You have some suitable candidates Maggie?" "Wh-what about me, your Majesty? Should I take my leave? I'm- I'm not really suited to be here..." Alef threw a wink to Magdela once Dales had turned away from her, but otherwise kept the subservient attitude. "No, of course not, come over here Alef" Dales said with a smile, motioning for her to sit on her lap. "There are some, yes. We might discuss my brother Jem. Janus, that is. But perhaps I was being a bit hasty in counseling you to move quickly on this matter. I did not adequately take your feelings into account. For that I apologize." Maggie looked from Dales to Alef, giving her a knowing smile, then returned her gaze to the empress. "It's fine Maggie, this is a very important matter. We need to arrange this as fast as possible. Tell me more about your brother." Alef did as she was bid, sitting on Dales' lap. What a silly girl. Amusing, but silly. She seemed to have the decent sense to act properly in public, but in private? There were worshipers of Sheogorath she had encountered in Samuel's service that made more sense than her. "I have heard wonderful things about the countess' brother, though- though I suppose that would count against him... I'm sorry, I should stay quiet..." "He's an intelligent man, Excellency, but no way with women, I'm afraid. I'm not convinced myself that he is your best candidate. I say that with all humility. The matter is this: He is my father's heir and will have Skingrad eventually. He is your subject still, as we all are, but doesn't need your power as much as another would. There is an advantage in choosing a consort who has no other standing in society but that which you have given him. Control, you see. It's why Amaund tried so hard to make me as low as he possibly could." "Would he mind my...tastes, and the fact me engaging in...intercourse with him would only be for the realm?" She said it coldly, in a strictly formal and buiesness like way. "If he were in your power, he would have no choice. Of course, there are other ways we might manage this..." Maggie glanced at Alef, and said, "Do your trust your friend, Excellency? I'm sorry- what was your name again?" "M-my name is Aleffea, countess," the Dunmer looked to Magdela's feet. It was all about appearance. It always was. To keep Dales in the dark about their connection, certain games had to be played. Luckily the countess had been aware that this might be the case. It would likely have been over if she had suggested that they knew each other. "Yes, I do trust her Maggie, she's my friend." Dales said. "Very well. It's nice to meet you, Aleffea. If I may say, I haven't seen the empress this radiant since she was a little girl talking to me about dancing." A truth, but one calculated to affirm Alef's position in Dales' affections. That caused Dales to blush slighty, "Your much more radiant then I am Maggie...you always will be" Alef got up form the Empress' lap and bowed, before sitting down again. Fishing for affirmation for both ehrself and Magdela's sake, she continued with a glance at Dales. "I'm- I'm flattered, your Ladyship... It might be because I have... uhm... certain skills from... my past... and present..." "Charming girl. Your skill is valuable, but it is your friendship the empress values most, I'm sure. Since she trusts you, I'll dare to speak frankly about the secrets of our empire. Excellency, it may be possible that you will not need to lie with a royal consort at all. It would not be the first time that an heir has been produced when either an emperor or his wife were unable to conceive. Another woman might be willing to bear a baby for you. It would be risky, of course. You would have to appear pregnant yourself for a time. Is this something you would consider?" "Um..." Alef knew she had to shot this idea down. Samuel had gone over some basic things with her about how this had to go, and having anyone else than Dales herself bear the child was one of the big nono-s she had been warned about. "I'm... Well, is that a good idea? I- I mean, if anyone finds out it might become a war over it... It wouldn't be the first time... You've read about Potema, the Wolf Queen?" Dales’ face brightened at the concept of her not having to lay with a man, but, she remembered Samuel's words, and glanced at the copper ring she bore. Her face hardened once again, and she muttered, "It's to risky Maggie. It's my duty to bear a heir, and as much as I hate having myself defiled, it's necessary." As Samuel, Tullius, and Lorgar would say, duty comes first. Maggie shot Aleffea a look warning her to stay out of it. Returning a smile to Dales, she shook her head. "You are so resolved. It is admirable, my lady. A risky course, to be sure, but something to keep in mind." With another pointed look to Alef, she straightened. "In any case we must continue to scour the eligible males of the empire. As I was saying, someone who would owe you everything, and who's not of a jealous sort, would be ideal. It's a pity your spymaster is a Nord. He is absolutely devoted to you." "Lorgar? Yes, he is very devoted, and would make a fine husband." Dales smiled to herself at the thought of the duke, a true friend. "But as you say, he's a nord. And I don't think all those bigots on the elder council would want him in a position of that kind of authority. Could cause a great deal of problems." Dales tiredly yawned, "Race, sex, position...so many complications..." Alef hung with her head, but afforded herself a quick smile. Magdela's plan about a different female bearing the heir seemed to have been shut down long before she even got a chance to propose it, most likely by Samuel. While Magdela was far from stupid and might be able to make it work, Alef couldn't go against the outlines that had been set for the ideas she was allowed to support. And, quite frankly, if it came to choosing to put her life in Samuel's of Magdela's hands, she'd chose Samuel every time. "Respectable, not a high lord, and not very bright. Those are my recommendations, my lady. If you like, I can call Jem to court so that you can meet him, however." Maggie didn't sound very enthusiastic. The countess stood and paced away. "There is another matter, Excellency, one I am loath to speak of. I was approached by someone in the Market District the other day." She glanced back at Alef, then went on, "He made threats toward me. Not in so many words, of course, but he let me know that my role in revealing Thalmor secrets to you is known. If it would please you, my lady, might I have leave to call on your royal guard at times for protection?" "A couple of hundred years ago and the Elder Council would have welcomed a Nord on the throne..." thoughtfully, and accidentally, Alef let the comment out. "At least some parts of the old ruling family was Nordic, many are said to have been raised in Solitude before coming to the Imperial City..." "No offense to his Lordship, I think of him VERY highly, but I CANNOT see Duke Grim-maw on the ruby throne" Dales said with a slight chuckle. And the mention of Maggie being in trouble...her face grew very dark and stoic, "What's the bastards name..." "He didn't give me a name, and it's not important, as he was likely only a messenger. I'm sorry to trouble you, my lady. You have your own problems to worry about. If I can borrow a guard of yours from time to time, that will put my mind at ease." Maggie thought of the guard outside and almost let out a chuckle. "Let us speak of happier things. I noticed that there is a very large Breton attending royal functions these days. A very jolly fellow. I had thought him a buffoon at your coronation, but it turns out he's a rather important person in Camlorn. Has he paid court to you himself? Hoping to win your hand as a fellow Breton?" "You mean General Theodore? Talos I hope not..." Dales said, with her face becoming slightly pale at the thought of the General trying to kiss her hand. She slightly shivered, "I would much...rather have my husband not a person that reeks of cheese all day.:" "Oh, there are worse things than that, my lady. You could ask Venusa. Of course this Theodore has a wife, but there are all sorts of ways around that if he has royal aspirations. We shall see. I can't imagine he's the only honest man in High Rock. I do wonder if some in High Rock will take a cue from Skyrim and try to break away on their own. They're always going on about their little squabbles." Maggie came around to sit down again. "On that point, you should think about inviting Skyrim, Hammerfell and Morrowind to set up embassies in the Imperial City. Some won't like it. They'll say that we still own the provinces and recognizing them as independent will weaken that claim, but we must face reality. It can never hurt to give our neighbors a voice for their concerns. I would say we should invite Black Marsh, too, but I fear from all I've heard that the An-Xileel will have none of it." "May I say something, my Ladies?" Alef didn't have the shy tone from before, but was still careful not to sound too confident. Without waiting for a response she went on. "I think that trying to talk with Morrowind isn't going to lead anywhere. We Dunmer live long lives. The ones born in the Red Year have only now started to get old. The abandonment of our people at the time we most needed the Empire is still fresh in out people's memory. Right now I think most Morrowind born Dunmer just want the Empire to leave them alone." Dales started to stroke her chin, before saying, "I think Maggie's right, we should at least try to invite them. Especially the Dark Elves, they would make valuable allies in the inventiable conflict which is going to erupt. I think Hammerfall would take much less to convince, I heard they are still imperial loyalists over there." After saying those words, Dales professional face melted away, and was replaced with one of her...ehem "innocent" and cute faces she put on in private. She..."softly" said to Maggie, "If your feeling guilty about not helping me to much with my man problems...maybe you could make it up to me...by joining me and Alef?" She put her hand to Maggie's arms, and seductively smiled at her. Maggie smiled and grasped Dales' hand. "Excellency, I'm afraid I heard a bit of your conversation with Aleffea from the door, and I cannot begin to compete. It is also awkward... you will understand, I was with your father... Now that you have accepted me into your court, I feel that I can be as a mother to you. If that is not too presumptuous of me." She let Dales' hands on her linger, then lifted the one she was holding to her lips and kissed it gently. A motherly kiss, perhaps, but not entirely. Releasing her, Maggie stood once more. "I have interrupted you both long enough with my boring gossip. To Aleffea's point I would only say, that if your people feel aggrieved, all the more reason that it must be we who reach out a hand to them first. Our empire may have been a poor father, not protecting our children. Let us see if we can be a better sibling. As the empress wills, however." Maggie curtsied lightly and waited for Dales to dismiss her before she retreated. Dales looked slightly disappointed, but that soon went away..She bowed her head and smiled at Maggie "Of course Maggie. I will appreciate any possible match you find for me. Good night to you dear countess. And remember If anyone threatens you again, come to me. I'm here for you, and take as many guards as you need" "Good night, countess," Alef added, right after Dales finished. As Magdela left the room, she took a hold of the Empress' chin and turned her to her. With a lot more confidence than she had had during the meeting, she whispered. "Now, where were we before we were to rudely interrupted?" That caused Dales eyes to harden, "Countess Magdela coming to visit me is NEVER rude. I request my dear, that you dont speak of Maggie so rudely." With that Dales face went back to her normal, "playful" look, she planted a kiss on her lips while saying, "How should I punish you for that, Alef?"

Eduard Laenius, Jon, Livia, Karita- Dawnstar, Morning "Alright, so we have the layout. Time to get a plan together." "I would say so. You've gotten yourself in quite the mess this time." "That I have. Nothing I can't get through though." "Whatever you say Eduard. So, what's the plan?" "To be honest, I really wouldn't call it a plan. It's more of a shot in the dark." "Well let me hear it anyways." "Alright. Well, from the layout of the house that you gave me, it seems my best chance of slipping out from the house is from a small side room just off the main room. There is a window that I can slip out of. Once I do that, I should be able to slip into a different set of clothes, and complete the assassination, which will not be difficult. Other than the fact that I'll have to do it in about 17 minutes for my excuse to be even remotely plausible." "And what is your excuse?" "Need to relieve myself." "Ahh, I see. Very solid Eduard," Jon said with a smile. "It's all I've got. And it's going to have to work. Worst case scenario, I'll have to make it seem like I ditched the date. That will get me chewed out by Livia, as well as possibly cause some tension in her and Karita's new friendship, but that's going to be a necessary risk I suppose." "Well hopefully it won't come to that." "It would be even better if it turns out that I'm not into this Karita. That would help ease the guilt quite a bit." "Glad to know you care so much." "Whatever. Just help me get everything prepared for tonight." "Alright. Only because I'm sure you will need all the help you can get tonight." "That is for sure Jon. I really hope I can pull this all off successfully." "As am I Eduard. Anyways, we had better get started." "Right." ~~-~~--~~-~~ 10 Hours Later ~~-~~--~~-~~ Eduard approached the front door of his sister's home. It was quite nice. Damn, she has expensive taste. It probably wasn't the best idea to give her free range on house choice. Oh well. Eduard looked down at himself, adjusting a few things on his shirt. Well, I guess it is time to find out how this is going to play out. This Karita had better be worth all of this trouble, or not be worth my time at all. Better not just be average. Eduard knocked on the front door. Within moments, the door opened up. "Ed! I'm glad you made it," Livia said, smiling. Her smile quickly faded though. "We're already doing better than the last time I set you up to meet a girl." Oh crap. I forgot about that. Apparently she hasn't. That really puts me in a bind. This just keeps getting worse for me. "Yeah about that." "Never mind that. Come in, I think dinner is ready." Eduard walked into the house, he was assured that dinner was ready. That smell... It's absolutely incredible. Definitely deer. Scratch that, it's elk. That must have been Livia's suggestion or just dumb luck. Although I would put money on it being Livia. All that matters is that it smells delicious. Livia motioned for Eduard to follow her into the kitchen. Inside, he laid eyes on the girl he suspected was Karita. At least he was hoping it was Karita. Wow, she's absolutely gorgeous. She's got a great body top to bottom. And her eyes are just as stunning. This is a date I could get invested in. Oh, and time mark 6:34. "Karita, I'd like you to meet my brother," Livia said, motioning towards Eduard. "It's a pleasure Karita," Eduard said as he took a seat at the table. "I'm Eduard Laenius." Eduard almost listed his rank in the Legion, but decided against it. Not in Skyrim. At least not yet. "Nice to meet you Eduard. As your sister said, my name is Karita." "Karita, is the food ready to be served?" "Yes it is." "I was told you prepared dinner this evening." Livia began to hand out plates. When she finished, she took her plate with her and left the room. "I've got a few things to do real quick." Liar. As Eduard had thought, elk was on the menu. Alongside a baked potato and a small bowl of soup, although he couldn't decipher what kind. Whatever it was, it smelled great. Time mark 6:39. "That's right! It's what I do for a living." "Well then, thank you for doing so. It smells great by the way! And that's interesting, how long have you been doing that?" "Well, how about you find out it tastes? As for cooking, I've done it nearly my entire life. I started doing it for money about four years ago, shortly after I moved here. What about you? What do you do for a living?" As Eduard took his first bite of the dinner Karita had prepared, he realized that somehow the food tasted even better than it smelled. "Before I answer that, I must tell you. The elk is absolutely fantastic. Anyways, I was a mercenary for years before I moved here." "Really? How was that? Thank you, by the way." "It's a fun ride, although not very safe. It suited me though, and the money was certainly nice." "So I've heard. Is it true that you bought this house for your sister, as well as one for yourself?" Time mark 6:49. 9 minutes until I need to slip out. "Yes it is. Although my house is nowhere near this nice. Livia tends to have a more expensive taste than me." "Well I think it's really great that you were able to help her get a nice home. Where did you do mercenary work?" "There wasn't a real set location that I did work in. Although it was mostly in Cyrodiil, although I've done some work in Skyrim as well." "I see. So, what made you decide to move here?" "Safety I suppose. Besides, I haven't had a steady place to rest for around 10 years. I figured it was time for a break," Eduard said, after finishing the last of the meal Karita prepared. "You said you moved here about four years ago, right? What made you choose to move here?" "Well I used to live in Windhelm, but it wasn't for me. Don't get me wrong, it's a fine city. And it's pretty neat that Ulfric commanded the Stormcloaks from there. But I just didn't feel right. So I decided to move, and it just so happened that there was a place I could afford here in Dawnstar." "Interesting. So were you born in Windhelm?" 2 minutes. Last response, then I'll excuse myself. "No. I was born in Whiterun, then moved to Windhelm." "Oh. Hey, can I excuse myself for a bit?" "Sure." "Alright. I'll be back. Want me to grab a couple drinks?" "Depends on what drink." "Just mead. Why, is that not good?" "No that's perfect. Better than wine." Eduard knew that would be her response. He assumed it was basically a Nord's duty to choose mead over any other beverage. At least she didn't smell of it. Eduard left the room, and locked himself inside the tiny room. Alright, I've got 17 minutes, he thought as he slipped out the window. He then quickly changed into a separate outfit. He made his way out of the city, making time marks as he went. When he arrived at his target location, there was 8 minutes left. Which means 2 minutes before Kelvyn arrives. After the two tantalizing minutes were up, he finally saw his man. He was alone, which was odd. Not that Eduard cared. What did surprise Eduard was his lack of supplies. He didn't exactly look prepared to go anywhere. He had a small bag, and a dagger. Nothing else. He waited until the precise moment, and then took his shot, which pierced through Kelvyn's chest. He then went to drag Kelvyn to a predetermined spot, when the man actually got to his feet. "You won't kill me," he said as he ran off the path. Really? I've got a girl waiting on me, you ass. Eduard jumped down, and lined up another shot. Then he fired, hitting Kelvyn in the leg. This made Kelvyn fall, but it didn't kill him. He crawled behind a nearby rock. Eduard made his way to the man. "You'll never-" Eduard didn't have time to hear the man's defiance. He threw a dagger into the side of Kelvyn's skull, finishing him off. He then relieved him of all his valuables and left him behind the rock. Alright, only 2 minutes to get back. Damnit. He made his way back to the house quickly, but not too quickly. He didn't want to invoke suspicion. When he finally made it back, he changed back into his original outfit after he used the water to quickly clean up, and grabbed the mead he had placed there earlier. Then he slipped back in the window. "Sorry I took so long," he said, handing Karita a drink. "That's alright. Why are you breathing hard?" "I... tripped while fetching the drinks. Gave me quite the scare. Thought I'd lost the mead." "That would have been bad," Karita said with a smile. "Is that why there's blood on your hand" "Uhh... yeah. Must be. I tried to stop my fall. I'm good though." "That's good. Now, how about a drink. To a new friend!" "Alright. To a new friend." As the night continued, so did the mead consumption. Well, mainly for Karita. Eduard had used a bit of trickery to make it appear he was drinking as much. Using a quick switch, he made it appear as if his bottle was always near empty. When in fact he had only drank two bottles. One completely, and the other near empty. It was a common tool he used on a date. Not very chivalrous, but it got the job done. At this point, Karita was drunk, but not slammed. He made sure that was avoided. "So, wh... What's your favorite animal?" "My favorite animal? Odd question. I'd have to say the fox. Sleek, beautiful, cunning, and deadly." "Mines the deer. They make good food you know." "Yes. You proved that with dinner tonight." "Thank you! Now, what about your favorite... time of day?" "Well... I would have to say evening. Just after sunset. Everything begins to quiet down, and the night sky begins to awaken. Thing of beauty. And you?" "I like morning. It marks the start of another day!" "That it does." Eduard decided that he had spent enough time with her. Well, enough time at Livia's house anyways. "Hey, it's getting pretty late. How about I walk you home?" "That would be nice!" Eduard led Karita to the door, where Livia was waiting. She said nothing as Karita went through, but stopped Eduard. "You walk her home. That's it. Got it?" Damn she's good. "Of course." "Oh her house is down at the end, on the right." "Right, thanks." He then walked with Karita to her house, stopping at the door. "Karita, I had a wonderful time tonight." "Me too! It's was a lot of fun!" "Good! Say, why don't we do it again some time. Maybe at my place?" "Sounds good to me!" "Alright then. When are you free?" "Uhh... Everyday?" "Okay then," Eduard said with a laugh. "Bye Karita." "Goodbye Eduard." Unfortunately, he ended up keeping his word to Livia. And he would have to come back and find out when she was actually free.

Rebec and Baldur south of Markarth near Dushnikh Yal afternoon “Hold up.” Mazoga called their Stormcloak party to a stop as the palisades of the orc stronghold came into view up the path. She turned to Rebec and Baldur. “I told Cap this back in Solitude, but it’s worth saying again. Those stronghold orcs are no more going to talk to me than they are to a Nord. I’m a town orc and have never even been inside a stronghold. Just so you don't have grand expectations of what's about to happen." Baldur took a look around at the fort. It was quite simple. Most of what he could see was log and wood. Some smoke arising from campfires further inside and a few sentries standing atop wooden towers who likely saw their little group already making their way to the stronghold. The day was hot and humid, and due to their proximity to rivers and streams in the Markarth area, gnats were in abundance. Baldur was getting tired of standing around being feasted upon and simply wanted to get things moving. However, as little as he knew about the Orcs, he did know that they could be stubborn. Patience would likely be key. Swiping at the little buzzing critters swarming his face, Baldur said, "Well, it's a helluva better chance then we had without you. They seem to be a simple folk. Keep to themselves. Distrusting of outsiders. Not much different from ourselves, am I right?" Rebec nodded. "Just try, Maz. It can't hurt." "It could, actually," the orc answered wryly. She was right, the orcs out here were unpredictable and they didn't like being bothered or they wouldn't be living in such a place. Nevertheless Mazoga turned and started walking up towards the palisades. She was never one to shrink back from a challenge, which was why she and Rebec worked together so well and had made an easy transition to fighting sailors. Glancing at Baldur, Rebec felt a lump in her throat. They were all doing this for her. She didn't let herself go down that road too far, though. Had to keep a clear head or this could go wrong in so many ways. "Don't be so nervous, we'll be fine. It's not like they'll attack on sight. They'd be stupid to try." said Baldur, noticing her looks from the corner of his eye. "And if they do, well...there's more than one way to tan a khajiit." Baldur smiled slightly at the comment. In all truthfulness he was hoping to tan the khajiit the other way, but they were here on important business, not to test skill at arms. More specifically they were here for his wife. Talking to the orcs would stand a better chance of learning what they needed to know to find Toki and putting Rebec's mind at ease than forcing the information out of them. Rebec nodded and turned her eyes back on Mazoga, trailing after her slightly. She didn't want the orcs to think they were skulking about for an ambush. As Mazoga got near to the gate, another female orc's voice called out. "That's far enough. This is a stronghold and we don't welcome visitors. On your way." "We're just looking for information," Mazoga began. "You can get it somewhere else. Got nothing to say to you, half-breed." Orc women, just as pleasant as Nord women, Rebec thought as she watched the exchange. Mazoga wasn't losing her temper yet, but starting. "A man went missing here some time ago and we think he was..." "One more word out of you and our archers start firing." Cursing, Mazoga turned to Rebec and Baldur. "Well that's that. I told you." Rebec, standing some distance off, answered, "It's alright, we'll look for Toki's body on our own." It would take them days, maybe weeks, to search all the hidden crevices in these mountains, and all of their lives would be in danger at every moment. As she thought about it, Rebec realized that she couldn't let that happen. Toki's bones would have to rest where they lay, wherever that was. She could do no more for him in death than she'd done in his lifetime. While Rebec stood wrestling with this, Mazoga had turned her head to look back at the orc sentry. She'd noticed the woman's expression change when Rebec said Toki's name. "You know Toki Pot-Banger, the Nord tinker? That's who we're looking for. We think he was ambushed in these hills by guards from Markarth. This is his wife, Rebec Red-Eye. We only want to find his body and put him to rest, if we can." There was silence from the palisade wall, but also no arrow fire. Finally the sentry pointed north. "Go back the way you came." Rebec's heart had risen in her throat, but it fell crashing back again as it seemed they were going to be turned away after all. Then the sentry continued. "Pass the dwarf tower and go two hundred paces. Look down the slope and you'll see the old Nord stones. It's a short climb down. Place called Reachcliff Cave. Maybe there." Baldur sat there thinking for a while in silence as he watched the exchange. The orcs had responded at first exactly how he thought they would, but to him the info was given too easy. He couldn't read anything from the sound of the sentry's voice either. "What do you think Rebec? That was easier than I would have imagined and also rather specific. But I imagine we don't have all that much of a choice. We should probably scout out the location first once we arrive." Rebec stood, indecisive, and not sure what to think. Everything about the Reach felt wrong. She'd seen the Dwemer tower the orc mentioned, and this time there was no mistaking it for Nord stonework. It looked just like the rounded towers of Markarth. Why had Toki loved this gods-forsaken countryside so much that he wanted to spend his life wandering it alone? "Cap, you want my opinion?" Mazoga had rejoined them. "Please," Rebec answered. "These orcs aren't exactly what you'd call friendly, but they're not dirty. That's how the Nords see them, maybe, but they follow a strict code of honor. If they wanted to steer us wrong, they'd have set us off into the wilderness with no idea where to go. I think they know something and are telling the truth." "Can't we ask them what they know and how they found out? For all we know, Moon Balls paid them off and some of his goons are up there waiting for us." Mazoga hesitated, but turned back and called out, "How do you know about this?" There was silence from the stronghold. The sentry wasn't even in sight anymore, though they all could feel eyes on them. Rebec turned back to face Baldur. Resting her hands on his forearms, she said, "I want to go look, but only if you agree. If you say we go back to Markarth and forget about it, that's what we'll do." Her eyes welled a little, but she fought that back. "I love you too much to risk your life for this. My memories of Toki are all I need." It wasn't really true, but if Baldur said the word, she would make it true. Baldur drew his axe and signaled for the score of soldiers to start moving out. His mind was already made up. "It was never a question of if, but when. What kind of husband would I be if I said no to this after what you helped me with earlier? What kind of nord? Besides, we'll be careful. And that amulet of yours can tell when magic is drawn on right? Keep an eye on that. Our celestial sack comes around with his ghost goons, we'll know." The mention of it being a Nord thing not to back down set Rebec's determination finally. The orc had said that the cave was near old Nord stones. That was a reminder that this was their land, after all, and had been for a long time, probably even before these demon Forsworn started calling it theirs. "Alright. Let's go." Once she had her mind set, Rebec wasn't going to mess around. She took the lead and followed the trail back past the Dwemer tower. When they got to the area the orc sentry had described, Rebec climbed up on a bolder and peered down into the gulch below. Sure enough, there were barrow stones down there, and an overgrown path. If you didn't know to look for it, you'd likely never see it, just as they hadn't on their way to Dushnikh Yal. "We'll have to keep going north to look for the trailhead," one of the Stormcloaks said. "We're not doing that." Rebec pulled her rope from her belt and began looking around until she found an outcropping that seemed sturdy enough, then tied her rope to it. "Worst climber goes first, that way when you tumble to your deaths the rest of us have got a soft place to fall." It wasn't really that far a drop, but Rebec's more normal gallows humor seemed to have returned. "That'll be me then. I fall then my armor should offer some protection. Better than the rest of you anyway." Baldur gave a few tugs on the rope to test it's strength as he looked down below, not exactly sure it could hold his weight. "Hmm, you're sure this thing will hold?" Rebec sounded insulted. "Of course it will. I know my rope." She wasn't happy about Baldur going down there first where there might be beasts lurking around, but he was right about the armor. "We'll take up the slack and let you down easy. Even if you fall, it shouldn't hurt you. Much." Baldur chuckled a little as he held the rope in his hand nervously. Climbing things wasn't really something he did everyday, but he wasn't going to die from it. Hopefully. That was enough for him. "Alrighty then, I'm off." Baldur had his back facing the small cliff with the rope in his grasp as he leaned back a bit, testing the rope's strength one last time before he began his dissent. He had to be careful, as the metal on the bottom of his wide boots didn't make the greatest footwear for climbing rock. His cape and shield were also getting caught in the wind which made things even more difficult and made his dissent a tad slow. "So far so good! I guess...I think I heard a bear from somewhere down below though..." Cursing, Rebec gestured to Mazoga with her head. The orc let the others take the rope and stepped around, clambering over the rocks until she had a good firing position, then drew her crossbow. "Maz'll cover you. Just hide somewhere down there til the rest of us get down." "Alright, I'm gonna keep quiet when I get further down. If the bear comes, I'll take cover in the cave." Baldur took a few small leaps down while holding the rope after getting the hang of things. For a minute he was having fun, until the bear noises got louder. He still couldn't see the creature however, which unnerved him more than if he actually saw the damn thing. Once he got near the half mark of the cliff, Baldur slid down the rope the rest of the way. Once he landed, he stumbled a bit, misjudging the height of where he was, but not being any worse for wear. Afterwards he drew his axe and shield and started looking around, but he couldn't figure out where the bear was still. The animal no longer made any noise that would give him a better idea of it's location to him. Baldur figured it must have wandered off, so he gave the others the signal to continue. Rebec normally would have let the others go first, but not with Baldur down there. She was an excellent climber and lighter, so was down on the ground quickly and tugged on the rope to signal the next to come down. Whispering to Baldur, she said, "We're downwind from him, should be fine. One of those snowbacks stubs his toe and lets out a yell, I'll tear his guts out myself." She glanced up at Mazoga, then looked around. As she saw the cave, she felt a strange chill on her back. Toki, did you find your end here? There were altar stones at its entrance. Maybe there was some kind of old Nord enchantment on it, like a warning to outsiders to stay out. Or she was just imagining things. Baldur wasn't taking any chances and decided it was best to keep his axe and shield drawn regardless. Every now and then he'd check to see if he saw any odd shimmers in the air for signs of magically cloaked men. "Rebec, check your amulet. Is it glowing?" She pulled it out from under her cuirass. The glow was faint, but it was there. Not just bears, then. "You think it's Forsworn in there?" Baldur really didn't want to see that, but it was what it was. He remembered how efficiently he was sneaked on and taken down by the invisible hirelings before. Not just him, but his Redguard soldiers as well, all stealthily killed without him hearing a peep. "I don't know, really but we need to get out of the open. Lets take cover by one of those stone pillars and wait for the others. If it is Moon-Balls or Forsworn, it's best we don't give them opportunities to gank us. Keep on alert. When we get inside we need to keep a tight shield formation in a circle when we can with you and Mazoga in the middle." "We're the archers, remember? We'll stay behind you and cover your flanks." She watched as another Stormcloak dropped and joined them. Mazoga would be the last. "Of course, I'd just feel better knowing that no one can come up behind you and slit your throats. You weren't there when I was captured. Those Redguard men were so good at sneaking that I didn't even know they were there. Next thing I know, they're dead. And I was subdued. I wasn't exaggerating when I called them "ghost men". That's some powerful illusion magic they have. You could be dead before I even know it. You'll still be able to cover our flanks. But I'd at least like two soldiers watching yours." said Baldur. Rebec stared at him, not having heard the details of his capture before. She thought about the feeling she'd had that they were being watched. The idea that Moon Balls could have been following them all this time, via his servants, hadn't seemed credible, but she would put nothing past the man. "Alright," she agreed. "But there's no magic that strong here yet or Kyne would point the way." The cave seemed once to have had a carved door, but it was tumbled in now. As they made their way through the first corridor, the air got colder, but there was still a faint stench of rot. One of the Stormcloaks lit a torch, but as they neared what looked like an antechamber, Rebec could see some sort of fire burning. Her amulet was glowing stronger. Baldur's nose was twitching from the smell of the place. It seemed...wrong. It reminded him of the description of one of the barrows Boldir had been to with Galmar. All his life in Skyrim he'd never actually been in a nordic ruin before, but he could remember the tales regardless. The architecture in the distance had two stone bearded men on pillars near the ceiling in the distance. And to the right of some kind of black claw shape was a coffin... "Rebec, I think we may be lucky enough to find a few of our ancestors here today. The metalwork on that coffin definitely seems ancient. Your amulet may be picking up Draugr and whatever magical means keep them alive." "My ancestors have the sense to stay dead." No sooner had Rebec spoken but a greyish figure came shuffling into whatever magic light the chamber was lit by. It saw them across the room and stopped, then let out a rattle of rage and lurched towards them with its axe raised. "Okay, men. Tight formation up front! Two remain facing the back. Crouch so Mazoga and the Admiral can give cover fire!" The men moved into place rather quickly, not wanting to be in a position of weakness if they were to get swarmed by these things. Baldur looked upon the creature with a half curiosity and puzzlement. He wondered how in the world something so frail could cause such fear to his kinsman. As the naked creature came upon their shield wall, one of his soldiers effortlessly knocked the creature down to the ground then put an axe into it's cranium, dulling the teal colored lights in it's eyes as she did so. "Hmm...looks like we named our elite group after the wrong things I guess. That was rather p-" Suddenly as Baldur spoke, man sized slates along the walls started bursting out revealing hidden tombs with more draugr among them wearing black armor with long horned helmets. Some of them were using two handed ancient nordic swords. Some others even had ebony weapons of various kinds. All of them were groaning as they gave their rusted evil laughs and spoke in their long forgotten language. Baldur estimated there to be about fifteen. "Damnit, spoke too soon. Get ready!" The draugr rushed forward without formation, though one of them stopped to wave its sword in the air, the rally of an officer. Rebec rolled out briefly from the cover of the shields, aimed and put a bolt in the draugr's neck. Mazoga came up behind her as she reloaded and fired at the closest deathwalker. Baldur ordered the men to keep moving forward in a wedge formation with the shields up so that the draugr that were now bearing on them could not push them back. There was a narrow tunnel to the left of the room that he wished to push the fiends back into. But these things were much harder to deal with then normal men. The soldiers would send flurries of cuts and hacks upon the horde yet they still came. The most effective attacks were those inflicted upon their heads. Baldur ducked under a swipe from a draugr with an ebony greatsword in it's hand, then came back up and sliced across it's face, knocking it down. The draugr came back up shortly after, however, chuckling at the attack as it sent electrical currents through its body. "Aav Dilon!" "Shit, these things just keep on coming! We've only killed four so far. Keep up the attack, and try to decapitate them! Push forward!" As they got into closer quarters, Rebec switched to axes and Mazoga to sword. Together they hacked at one of the lesser-armored wights, but the grotesque creature behind it stepped over the body and blasted a frost spell at them. Mazoga cried out and lifted her sword arm to shield her face, but the attack only made Rebec furious. She charged the draugr, knocking it back and forcing it to stumble, her axes tearing into its bloodless flesh. The creature began to say something in the guttural old tongue, but an axe in its forehead stilled it. The undead creatures made the shield wall ineffective for killing, as they did not die from normal wounds and extra care had to be taken to decapitate them or at least sever their spinal cord. Baldur in the relentless onslaught was still fighting the big bellowing ancient nord before him, it's paper like skin now split across its face where Baldur had cut it. Baldur and the true necro nord clashed in heated battle, the draugr ignoring the blows he could land on it in favor of delivering his own. It sent a fierce jab towards Baldur's middle section to which he sidestepped, but it managed to scrape the side of his armor. It took the full blow however, leaving him uninjured. Baldur took the opportunity to hit it in the skull with his shield, which knocked it's tall horned helmet clear off. Baldur booted it back, sending it tumbling backwards and then he launched his axe towards it's skull.... "FUS....." The axe left his hand, twirling around and around, singing as it did. "RO" The axe came nearer to it's mark, flying past the other undead creatures charging their way to the foolish mortals who dared to test the mettle of the undead. "DAH!" The axe hit, but it did not hit it's mark. The axe ceased it's movement just before hitting the creature's skull and immediately was sent flying back to its user along with the shockwave that was launched from it's mouth. The smell of dead flesh and ancient stink filled Baldur's nostrils as his face felt the impact of Kyne's storm voice, sending him and a handful of nords flying back off their feet. When Baldur finally recovered, he opened his eyes to see his axe buried in the skull of one of his soldiers next to him. Baldur silently wished him farewell in Sovngarde before gripping his large braided red beard and yanking his weapon out to go for round two. "FUS" The axe was once again launched from Baldur's hands, this time with anger and greater velocity. "RO" The metal sang louder this time as it twirled through the air once more, flinging the blood of Baldur's kin from it as it did, it's song singing along with the general's battlecry, complimenting him in this ballad of war. "D-" This time, the axe had made it's intended mark, signifying it's victory with a satisfying thunk and sound of tearing ancient flesh along with the crackle of electricity. Baldur walked up to the creature and placed his foot upon it's throat as he yanked his weapon out of it's skull before going back into the fray. The creature managed to get out a word before it died despite it's head injury. "V-Vahzah...Bron..." It's eye lights dimmed out forever, signifying the abomination's death, once and for all. Rebec was under a pile of Stormcloaks and orc sailor, who'd all been blown back like leaves in a windstorm. She was just getting to her feet when the creature made his death rattle and slumped at Baldur's feet. The after-battle quiet was even more eerie in the tomb. Rebec stepped to Baldur's side, and her voice echoed. "Now I know how those imperials in Solitude felt when Ulfric was coming through." Together they stared down at the dead Nord. She gestured at him. "That's some nice armor." Baldur tilted his head, staring down curiously at the thing. It was so unlike anything he had ever faced before. Especially it's thu'um. Baldur's adrenaline was still pumping, completely exhilarated from the battle. And almost being killed. I don't think Rebec saw that. I'll keep it to myself. "Hmm, maybe...Maybe a few touch ups and some new cloth...Think we can take this with us Rebec? It stinks worse than two horker asses chopped up in shit broth, but I think I can wash it up and have a smith refurbish it. What do you think? Maybe we can get one of those female ones for you too." Baldur pointed over to the corner where a female draugr with a bolt in her mouth lay. Rebec glanced over at the female draugr. "If what she's wearing can be called armor, you can stick pointy ears on me and call me an elf. Apparently the ancient Nord women were a lot tougher than the men, because they wore their smallclothes into battle. No thank you." She began wandering around the chamber, looking at the carvings on the wall. Her amulet was still glowing blue, but only faintly. When she spoke again, her voice sounded defeated. "Toki couldn't have come in here. He'd have been cut down by those draugr." Baldur's face looked crestfallen when Rebec turned down the idea. He was getting all sorts of visuals of Rebec going into battle with it... Not very practical but.... "*Ehem*, Uh, well maybe he snuck past them? The tombs here were all sealed shut until we came in. We didn't even know they were there until they opened. I don't know if these things can seal themselves back but I doubt it. Maybe he met his end further inside." "He clanked a lot with his tools but if he wanted to I guess he could make do. He had to shelter a lot out in the wilds, after all. I supposed we should..." Rebec had circled back around to Baldur, but stopped as she noticed something in the wall next to the doorway. It was wedged into a crack like it had been left there on purpose. She pulled it out and held it up towards the torch, then her eyes went wide. It was a little auger. Engraved on the wooden handle was a T with moth wings outstretched. "This is Toki's ownership mark." Rebec's hand shook as she lowered the tool and met Baldur's eyes. "He was here. He must've left that, it couldn't have gotten there by accident. Come on." She slipped the tool in her pocket and drew her crossbow, stepping across the draugr's corpse and peering into the next chamber, determined now. Baldur was glad that they no longer had to go further down the other corridor where there were likely more of those things, but he loathed the minute Rebec would finally find Toki's bones, fearing how she would take seeing them despite her words about how she felt before. Baldur still thought that she would be saddened. And if she was saddened, then of course he would be. Baldur stopped the advances of one of his soldiers before they could step through the small hidden passageway as well. "Strip that draugr of it's armor while we're gone. Keep watch." No more draugr appeared in the next chamber, but in the doorway that led out of it into the next room, Rebec could find no more evidence of his being there. She felt certain that he had left the tool as a sign for her. The marking would have significance only to someone who knew him well. It made her feel sick inside. Pacing the room in frustration, she finally turned and was about to head further in when she noticed something odd. What had looked like one of the wall tombs was fallen in, and when Rebec shined the torch into it, she could see a little room beyond it. The door had been made to look like a tomb as a concealment. Wedging her way inside, Rebec held the torch up and its light fell on a skeleton propped up against the far wall. The body wore a fur-lined cloak and leather armor, but she recognized it immediately, and the slim workman's axe that lay at its side. "No." It was barely a word, more a noise of anguish. She dropped the torch and in its remaining light, knelt down by the body. Her hand reached out to touch it, but how could you embrace bones? Rebec's mind tried to find a way to fit the horror together with the memories she had of her husband, but it couldn't. She couldn't cry, either, and couldn't move. Baldur wasn't exactly sure what he felt, but he knew whatever it was he felt didn't matter. What mattered was what Rebec felt. Baldur of course felt horrible for poor Toki, but now he felt something that he thought he was incapable of feeling before towards this man. He actually felt jealous. Jealous! Of a skeleton! Why? Baldur figured it must have been the effect his death had on Rebec, which at this point Baldur wasn't exactly sure what it was. But Rebec was frozen, so obviously she was upset on some level. Baldur of course expected this and wasn't upset over it. It was a base emotion that he couldn't control. He was her first. Her first time and her first husband. Despite how they felt about each other now, that was something they could never share. Their connection was far more than what the two had once had but Baldur couldn't help wishing that they shared that as well. Another feeling Baldur had was slight anger at the man for not holding on to Rebec tighter than what he did. For letting her go off and be wild as she put it. Baldur sat there wondering how could he let someone as special as Rebec go off like that and then he remembered he and Rebec's talk back at the camp before they reached Markarth. It was never something that he was going to understand. From her side, maybe. Doing something and seeing no reason to stop he clearly could relate to, but from Toki? No he could never understand that. How could he? He couldn't contemplate not loving her enough to keep her away from all that. How was it that he didn't feel these things back when Rebec had brought them up? It was just different he figured. Coming face to face with the man that was your wife's first husband. That or he full well did and merely suppressed the thoughts for Rebec's sake. Either way Baldur got over this when he remembered one thing. If Toki had held on to her better, then Baldur and Rebec likely never would have been together. Baldur overcame these feelings by thanking the gods things happened the way they did so they could be together. Instantly he felt horrible for doing so as it was selfish, but it wasn't like he wished him dead. Toki could still be alive and had things end up the way they did now. After all, Rebec swore to him that she'd remain with him, no matter what Toki's fate. And even if she didn't he already knew who she'd stay with. But not being alive made things a lot easier regardless. No fighting and the jealousy was a lot easier to overcome now that he was feeling sadness for the man. Baldur couldn't imagine what it was like dying in a place like this, all alone surrounded by these things. Even if Rebec wasn't as broken up as Baldur thought she should be, Baldur would at least try to mourn the man in her place. Picturing himself in his place made it easier to do, but all he could muster was cloudy vision for him. Suddenly Baldur felt like a much smaller petty man than what he thought he once was for his selfish thoughts and wished to leave when he noticed some kind of journal nearby on the floor. Baldur put a hand over Rebec's shoulder and showed the cover to her. "This is his ledger," she said, taking it from Baldur's hands. Her own hands shaking, Rebec flipped open the pages. In Toki's scrawl was written dates, names, the things he had repaired and what his payment had been, usually whatever bits of produce the farmers could offer him or something in trade. He would sell these in town and move on to the next destination. There were some empty pages, and towards the back the entries changed. There were also locations, but instead of jobs Toki had written: 5 adults, 2 children 1 adult, 3 goats, 4 deer 3 deer, 4 adults, some further away, probably healing magic And on went the list. "This was his reacord of the poisoned wells," Rebec told Baldur. Igmund, then jarl of Markarth, had been poisoning wells in Forsworn areas, and Toki noticed the pattern. She flipped the page, and cringed as she saw that this one was stained with blood. Going to Markarth. Dangerous but have to try. I'll talk to Hevdil Silvertooth. He's a friend and will know what to do. The rest was barely legible and partially obscured by blood stains. Du.k.Y.. hiding. Draug... I'm wou... die. Reb... The last word trailed off into a scrawling line. "He must have gotten away from the ambushers and hid here. The draugr woke and blocked his way back out. Oh gods. Oh gods, he died here alone in the dark." Rebec began to breathe hard, almost to hyperventilate. She closed the ledger and leaned on Baldur, trying to stand. Baldur for the second time today since meeting his mother didn't really know what to say, so he brought Rebec to a corner in the room to sit down in for a while next to him. He'd sit there for hours if need be. Rebec had a lot of emotions that she needed to sift through right now. And it was his job to be there for her. It was a duty he was happy to carry out for her. "Maybe remembering something about him would help. One of your happier moments with him. Close your eyes and picture that. Let that be the last thing you see when we leave this place, okay? Tell me a story." Rebec let Baldur hold her, and closed her eyes, trying to block out the horrible smell of the place and the sight of her first husband as a desiccated corpse. She had thought she'd be stronger, but when it came to it, her mind refused to accept what she'd long known to be true. Baldur's simple order made her thoughts start to work again. Eyes still pressed closed, she said, "Farmers often couldn't pay him in coin, so they gave him whatever they had. I came home to Dawnstar one time and he wasn't waiting for me at the docks. I thought he must still be out working, but when I got to the cabin I saw him kneeling next to some bird coops he'd built. Some farmer had given him chickens and there were a dozen little chicks running around. He didn't see me, but he was crouched there watching them run around and laughing like a little boy. When it came time for both of us to leave he had a hard time selling off those chickens. He had a soft heart like that." Like Baldur. That thought brought Rebec back to the present, and also to what she had that she could hang onto. She hugged Baldur hard, burying her face into his neck, feeling the warmth there that marked them out as alive in this dead place. It made her unbearably sad to think that Toki could never again experience anything like it, but maybe Sovngarde was better. He'd died fighting, there was no way he wasn't getting in there. Releasing Baldur, Rebec stood shakily to her feet. "Could you..." As much as she felt courage again, she couldn't face dismantling Toki's body into its mere skeletal parts. They had to go, however. It would be getting dark outside and nobody wanted to camp in this tomb. Baldur wasn't sure what she meant at first, but he remembered their second part of business that needed to be done and he thought he understood. "Aye. Have the men give me a sack. I'll take care of it." Baldur stood back to his feet and guided Rebec back to the tunnel, making sure that she didn't see the remains again on her way out. "You gonna be ok, Rebec?" said Baldur, still wondering about the state of her mind at the moment. "I'm going outside to see if that bear is still out there." She just really needed some air and to put this tomb behind her. The ledger was still clutched to her chest, though. Baldur turned back and waited for his soldier to come in with the bag. It was larger then what they would actually need. Toki's remains would likely not be holding together very well. That made Baldur's job easier as the corpse collapsed when he tried to move it. Baldur made a mental note not no mention any of that to Rebec in the future. Baldur held Toki's skull in his hands and pondered on how he was now. Likely wandering the fields of Sovngarde as he once did in Markarth, under that amazing heavenly sky. He figured he'd have to wait on Rebec and himself once they got there to get past Tsun. The image of this gave Baldur some peace. He hoped it would do the same for Rebec. Baldur lingered for a while with the skull in his hand, deep in thought before he remembered Rebec said she was going to look for the bear. Baldur hurriedly bolted out of the passageway with Toki in tow, ready to leave the place as much as everyone else was. Outside, Rebec had gathered her thoughts and was beginning to feel better. There had been no Moon Balls goons waiting, and they had found Toki's body. She'd done what she came to do and was on the road to putting it behind her. There seemed to be no sign of the bear. Rebec put Toki's ledger aside and looked at her map. It was a Stormcloak map, made during the war, and this cave was marked along with the trail leading out. When Baldur emerged, she smiled at him and pointed at the map. "We can take this trail out. I figured it had to be the main one, since it's got those pillar things. I'll have to leave the rope." Glancing at him, she said in softer tone, "Thank you, Baldur." Baldur walked over and put his arm around her, then he rested his forehead on hers and he closed his eyes. "Any time, Rebec." Touching his cheek, Rebec said, "He would thank you, too, if he could." She kissed him lightly, but by then Stormcloaks were starting to come out of the cave. Her eyes met Mazoga's and she nodded at the orc, then said to all, "Let's get out of here." They all were happy to comply. It helped Rebec to concentrate on something else, so she took the lead heading out on the path. It was a surprisingly well tended path, marked out by old stone pillars, though narrow and winding. The cliffs of the Reach mountains towered above them. Rebec was starting to think how welcome a bath and some mead would be, when she came around a bend in the path and almost smacked into the chest of a man standing in it. She saw plate armor and the man's hand holding his sword nearly out of its scabbard, then her eyes lifted to his face. It was the guard captain from Markarth, the one who had hauled her off to Cidhna Mine. He was out of uniform. Two other men stood behind him, their swords drawn. For a minute they stared at each other, then the man smiled. "You're a long, long way from Solitude now." Her mind worked. Something had been niggling at her since she read the last page of Toki's ledger. In the corner of the captain's mouth, a gold tooth glinted in the late afternoon sun. He had smiled at her once when he was interrogating her, too, but then the tooth hadn't meant anything to her. "Hevdil Silvertooth. You got a promotion and upgraded to gold. Did Toki's blood buy that?" "Toki spoke about you, Rebec. He was a good man. It was nothing personal, but if I hadn't turned on him, someone else would've got to him in the end, and me along with him. Jarl Thongvar might understand that, or he might not." "So now you're here to make sure no one finds out what you did." The captain nodded. "I'll be doing the Reach a favor. When High King Ulfric finds out that Forsworn murdered his best general and the admiral of his navy..." As the captain was speaking, there was motion on the slopes above them. Rebec glanced up and saw archers on both sides of the narrow gulch, with bows drawn on them, and more had dropped down on the path behind them to cut off any retreat. They were all out of uniform, but she thought she recognized one or two faces from the guards at Cidhna Mine. There were at least five archers on each side, well protected behind cover. She, Baldur, Mazoga, all of them... they had them dead to rights. Rebec's gaze met Baldur's. "I'm sorry." The arrows started firing as Redec said this, and The men gathered around Baldur, Mazoga and Rebec to protect them with their bodies. Baldur thought about taking out the Captain, but he couldn't risk Rebec's life in the process. Six of his men had already been felled, the rest put up their shields and gathered in a circle around the two to back up and regroup. Baldur had two arrows strike his shoulder and one strike his shield as he moved to protect Rebec from arrow fire. They may have been caught in an ambush but these were trained soldiers, and they had more men. They wouldn't be going down without a fight. "Sorry like hell, we're not dying today. I promise that to you, Rebec. Stay close and start firing you two with your crossbows! The rest of you back up, so we can charge with our shields raised!" You should have brought more men, bastard. Rebec felt an arrow whip past her head in the first volley, and as she was pulling her crossbow around another hit her in the back below her shoulder. She lurched and nearly dropped the crossbow, but fought back the wave of pain and forced herself to draw back the bolt. Just then the screams of pain and anger in the gulch were echoed by the same from the cliffs above, and the arrows stopped firing. Hevdil Silvertooth was yelling and pointing up at the cliffs, but an arrow caught him in the throat and he fell back. The confusion was terrific. Rebec saw two figures drop behind them and start attacking the ambushers. One of these shouted "For Malacath!" They were orcs, and had to be the stronghold orcs from Dushnikh Yal. With this added force, the gulch was soon quiet again except for the moans of the dying. A big male orc strode up towards Baldur and Rebec, stepping over bodies with all the casualness of an evening stroll. "I'm Ghorbash Iron-Hand. Our chief sent us to aid you and to avenge our own sentries who were killed in the ambush of Toki Tool-smith, Blood Kin of the orcs. If you can walk, our medicine woman will tend your wounds." Baldur was still enraged from the ambush that was pulled on them. What were the odds? How could he have known Toki's death was related to the Captain specifically? Seven of his men lay dead on the floor and his wife was almost killed. He wasn't sure how that fight would have gone, but he wasn't sure at all if he could've won. The odds were against them, and his men weren't Grim Ones. If they were, it would've been different. Baldur thought back to his promise...it was foolish. He had no right making that promise. Worst yet was he was pretty sure the captain was either dead or was about to be from that arrow. "Tend to my wife first. Thank you." Baldur's face didn't seem like he was very thankful. His pride was greatly wounded. He almost failed to protect his wife. He hadn't been this angry since Rommulas. "Tell me that Captain is still alive..." Rebec still had an arrow lodged in her back, but her leather cuirass had prevented it from going too deep. She stumbled a little as she walked towards the prone captain. "He's alive," she called back. An arrow had caught the side of his neck, and he was gasping for breath with blood coming out of his mouth. "Barely." "Good. Do you want to kill him, or will you leave it to me? If you do it, I want to have some time with him first. Alone." Baldur's face went normal once more. If Boldir were there, he'd be able to tell the others that wasn't a good sign for the Captain. He thought back to the night he and Rebec had when he told her why he loved her. Turns out even Rebec couldn't suppress his vindictive side when it was her that was put in danger. Rebec glanced at Baldur, then shook her head. "This one's mine." Putting down her crossbow, she drew the dagger from her thigh sheath, knelt down by the captain, and forced his mouth open. His body lurched as she dug out the gold tooth from his mouth. Rebec deposited the bloody hunk of metal in her pocket with Toki's auger and his ledger, then calmly drew Kyne's Talon and sliced open the man's throat with a touch that was almost gentle. The axe was so sharp that even light pressure made a deep cut. Blood gushed forth and the man's eyes rolled back as he died. Straightening, Rebec turned and nodded to Baldur. She was satisfied, even if he was not. Baldur stood there and watched as Rebec killed the man he had promised to ruin. He had his chance and just like that it was gone. Many many possibilities were racing through his mind, all of which disappeared after his wife simply ended his life. It seems he was wrong after all. Rebec did suppress his mood, whether he wanted it suppressed or not. Baldur was still staring at the body, wondering what he was supposed to do with his anger now. He had no one left to inflict it on. Only place left for it now was inside him. Baldur's face twisted in his fury, not being able to do anything about it. "Rebec! Why? Why did you do that? He got off too easy damn it! You should have made him suffer for what he'd done! You should have made him suffer! What am I s-" Selfish. So selfish. "N-nevermind. He killed your husband. It was your right." said Baldur with his head lowered. Rebec was weaving on her feet from her own blood loss. "Because I want it to be done." An orc woman with red war paint came up to her and pressed a potion into her hand. "We need to get you back to the stronghold," she said with an air of command. They had to leave the bodies where they lay, both Stormcloak and ambusher. With the help of the orcs, the survivors made it back to Dushnikh Yal, where their wounds were tended and they were given food and pallets to sleep on in the courtyard. There wasn't room in the longhouse for the visitors, but even that much hospitality was unusual. As they sat around their fire that evening, Rebec was quiet. The orc's healing potions had taken away the pain of her wounds, but it was still a lot to take in, and she didn't know what to do with Baldur's anger, either. So she sat near him, but stared intently into the fire. Eventually Mazoga came over. She'd been invited into the longhouse for a discussion with the chief. "Chief Bugurk wants to apologize. Two and a half years ago when their scouts went missing, they found the blood where Toki was ambushed and traced it to Reachcliff Cave. He was already dead and the draugr were starting to wake. They thought it good enough that he was among Nord dead." "They could've sent word to Markarth. It would have gotten to me eventually." Rebec's voice was dull. She wasn't really angry at the orcs, more at herself for not being here when Toki needed her. "Their numbers are dwindling here and they say all the Nords need is an excuse to treat them the same way they do the Forsworn. Any time they involve themselves with outsiders, it's a risk for them. Anyway, he apologizes, and also for not getting to us in time today to save our men." Rebec thought about this, then nodded. There was no use blaming the orcs. It wasn't their fight. Mazoga went to find her bedroll, and that left Baldur and Rebec alone again by the fire. "I'm sorry about the captain," she began. "What were you going to do to him?" Baldur looked to Rebec briefly, then went back to staring in the fire before closing his eyes as he spoke. "It's best we not talk about it. I'd likely have ended up killing him myself anyway out of shame. Wouldn't have wanted you to see what I did to him." "It wouldn't have bothered me, you know. But there was no need. This was never about you and me, it was about Toki all along. That captain recognized me and must have guessed why I was in Markarth. I imagine he was watching us the whole time. Here I thought it was Dwemer or Forsworn giving me that creepy feeling in my spine." Rebec fell silent and moved the fire coals a little with a stick. "You know, I don't think those bodies in the ledger were all Nords. Maybe none of them were. That's just what Toki would've told the guardsman in Markarth to get him concerned, and that's how Moon Balls got that information. To Toki it wouldn't have mattered if the dead were Reachmen. He never outright told me, but he hinted that once he got captured by Forsworn and made some kind of deal with them, maybe to trade or fix their tools. That's how he could travel through the Reach like he did." Baldur with his eyes still closed raised an eyebrow at that information. He didn't know how he felt about Toki making dealings with Forsworn. He figured he had sympathy for them. It was a sentiment that Baldur couldn't share. "I don't know what to say about that Rebec. I can't show sympathy for the Forsworn. Not in me. Still, what that orc said about the nords only needing an excuse...I hate to say it but he's likely a hundred percent correct. As for the Captain...it was never a question of necessity. It was just pride. Ulfric always held me up like I was some sort of champion. I never understood it but it eventually got stuck into my head, which isn't good for a Red-Snow. We're prideful by nature. Which is ironic because it was my father who told me you couldn't be a true warrior or leader until you were reborn through the pain of being humbled. So all this was a good lesson to learn I suppose. I failed you. Twice. First when I promised you wouldn't be going into his custody and the second time during that attack. I have no idea how that fight would've turned out, but it didn't look good. The first time I failed I was so bent on making him suffer because with that in mind I never had to deal with the fact that I failed. This time, it was the same thing. I could take my anger out on him and go on about my business like I was Ysmir himself. But I'm not Ysmir, I'm not Ysgramor, and you're not my Rebec the Red, no matter how much Ulfric would say it is so. I don't...I don't know what I am. He want's me to take the position of High General. I can tell. I can't even protect my own wife, let alone all of Skyrim." Now it was Rebec's turn to be surprised. Although on a second thought, she wasn't surprised at all by the news, only that Baldur hadn't said anything to her about it before. "Don't you want it? Forget about whether you can protect me or not. You've done that so many times now I'm losing count." "No, I never wanted any of it. I only accepted general because there was no one else better for the job and I realized that I had been groomed for this since childhood. Well, there was Boldir, now that I think about it. Ulfric was too hung up on me though. He can be stubborn once he's made up his mind. Hm, sounds familiar. Anyway I'm hoping that the man I recommended now will be worthy, but if not, I'll do what I must. Too bad Boldir's retired. He'd likely make a good High General. As for you, it doesn't matter how many times I've done it. That is my duty. I'm your husband and this time I failed. There's no excuse. You could've died. Enough about me. How are you?" Rebec laughed in spite of it all, and said, "Me dying is about me, isn't it? Baldur, love. Just think what this would've been like if I'd come here alone with just Maz. And about the other thing... I don't know what happened to me in there. I feel a lot of guilt for a lot of things, but I'm not sure what's right to carry and what's not. I guess it doesn't matter. Toki wouldn't want me to be weighted down by any of it." She fell silent a time, struggling. "Baldur, let's learn from this, you and I. Toki couldn't tell me what was going on, and so I didn't even know the burden he was carrying. We dealt with a lot of things by not dealing with them at all. Even if you and I fight, if we have to settle it by axes like we did about our name- we do it openly. Deal?" Baldur didn't want to laugh, but Rebec's laugh was infectious. When she was sad, he was sad. When she was happy, he was happy. That's just the way it was. Despite his desire to brood and mope over his shortcomings, Rebec wouldn't let him. That was good. A warrior that fails in battle and lives to see another day doesn't cry about it. He learns from his mistakes, brushes himself off and goes back into the fray. Really this needed to happen, Baldur realized. It was a harsh lesson that would serve him well in the future. Baldur opened his eyes finally and put his hand out for Rebec to grab. Somehow he felt at ease. Moreso than he would have if he had gotten his hands on Silvertooth. "Deal." said Baldur, giving a genuine smile. Some of the guilt came back that she was feeling happy while Toki had suffered such a lonely and terrible fate, but Rebec pushed it away. Rubbing Baldur's hand, she said, "It might have turned out differently. We might've found Toki in Cidhna Mine serving out a sentence as a Forsworn sympathizer. He wasn't, really, you know. It was about being left alone to live his life. That's what both of us wanted, and it's why we understood each other. Neither of us were much for politics or causes. It took me a while to realize this war was about the same thing- being let alone to live as you want. At first I thought it was about Ulfric's visions of grandeur. At any rate, you take that general spot if you want it. There's no one who deserves it more than you, or who'd do better at it." Baldur placed his second hand over Rebec's now and leaned his head on her shoulder. "I already have what I want. If I do end up taking the position, it will only be to better protect the things that I love. So that like Toki, we can see our dream realized. To be left alone to do what we want. Speaking of...." Rebec looked at him, then around at the camp. "Now?" she whispered. She wasn't feeling amorous, and her first inclination was to turn him down. It felt wrong somehow, with Toki's bones in their pack nearby. "Yea I guess this isn't the right time. Sorry. Just tired is all. Wasn't thinking clearly." said Baldur, feeling guilty and embarrassed for being inconsiderate. "Hmm, I'm going to get some rest. We both have big days tomorrow. Especially you and your..."Girls Day". She bit her lip and looked around again. "Over behind that shed," she whispered. There was no point in whispering, because when she stood up, took a bedroll and began to lead Baldur by the hand, it was obvious to anyone watching what they were doing. No one paid them any attention. They both began shedding clothes, excited as the doubts were put behind them. Still half-clothed but ready to start, they climbed under the furs and began to kiss. As Baldur made to lay her down under him, Rebec stopped him. "I got shot in the back, remember?" she said, smiling. He had no objections when she pushed him to his back. They were too tired and she was too heartsick for great effort, but that wasn't what either needed. It was enough that he could comfort her, and that they could affirm that they were both alive.