TheCzarsHussar

Ender Drenim Kvatch Evening "Elara! Hurry up!" The girl had stopped in the street to read the plaque on the statue of some city hero, and it was taking up Endar's time. She quickly stopped reading and ran down the street to catch up with him. "Sorry Mister Drenim!" Normally, he'd have quizzed her on how sorry she was, or even if the girl was actually sorry at all, but not this time. Endar was in too much of a hurry. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. He wasn't sure what to call the emotion that was tickling his insides. It felt like anxiousness, but he knew that couldn't possibly be it. I don't get anxious. The very thought of him being anxious to meet someone else would've made him chuckle on any normal day. "I hope you were entertained." he said as they briskly walked down the crowded streets. "Can you imagine how this meeting would go down if I didn't have a servant?" Elara began to correct him. "Stewar-" "Oh stuff it!" he interrupted without looking back. "My point is, what if we end up taking a while and I get thirsty, or need someone to run and fetch an extra soul gem or something? I couldn't leave the meeting myself, that would be rude." "Couldn't you summon that Dre...Drem..." Elara paused, desperately trying to remember the word Endar had used for the large pack Daedra he had conjured up on the road a couple times. "Dremolo... No that's not it... Damn! You know. That thingie you summon? The big horned guy with the bag on his back." Endar, still walking ahead of Elara, listened with amusement as the girl behind him tried to remember the simple word "Dremora". Peasants... "The word is Dremora Dre-mor-a. And nooo I can't just summon him in the middle of a meeting. I don't know this person, and I don't want to frighten them away before I get what I came for. Speaking of the Dremora though..." Endar raised his hand and clenched his fist, causing a red aura to surround it and out of nowhere, the Daedra appeared in front of him. He was holding a medium-sized chest. Endar reached out and took the chest, and the Dremora immediately disappeared in a purple and red cloud of smoke. Endar turned and handed the chest to Elara. "Here, carry this. It's the money for the deal." Elara felt shaken up. The abruptness of the large demon from Oblivion appearing before her so unexpectedly had made her jump and, to her shame, she was pretty sure that she had let out a little yelp. She took the chest, surprised by how light it was. Must've been more of Drenim's magic. She looked past the wizard and noticed the terrified faces of many bystanders and several guards. If the Daedra had shocked her, then it must've terrified them. Kvach, of all cities, had a bad history with Daedra. A guard approached Endar. "Uhh" he looked nervous. "You know the summoning of Daedra is illegal in the streets of Kvatch. I'm afraid I have to take you in, unless you can pay the court a three hundred Septim fine." Endar rolled his eyes. Doesn't anyone realize how important this meeting is? "Look officer, first, why in the world is something like that illegal? I mean seriously. It's been over two hundred years since your city got burned down by Daedra. Get over it. Secondly, and most importantly, I really don't have time for this. I am in a hurry. Can we please do this after my highly important meeting?" The guard looked incredulous. "What? We can't just start letting strangers summon Daedra in the street! and nobody is above the law!" he looked back to see if his friends were there to support him. There were two other guards in the crowd, but they hadn't stepped forward. "You uhh, you have to come with me now sir." his eyes looked somewhat pleading. He didn't want to see what else the mage could summon if things got violent. Endar sighed and put a subtle charm onto the guard before continuing in a whisper so only the guard and Elara could hear. "I am already late, and I'm going to my meeting. You tell your guard friends to wait at the bridge to the castle and I'll meet up with you to pay the ridiculous fine when I'm done. Okay?" The guard nodded. "Got it sir. That sounds like a reasonable enough solution for everyone." he turned back and headed for the crowd. "It's okay! He's gonna pay. We'll wait at the bridge." Endar started back towards the chosen meeting place, the Western Wanderer Inn. It wasn't Endar's first choice. He'd wanted to meet at the arena, or the chapel, but the person in the letters had said that he didn't feel comfortable with those two choices, and that he prefered to meet in a popular inn. Endar agreed, but only because the man seemed serious about this meeting. If it is for real, then Endar was going to be leaving Kvatch considerably happier than he'd arrived. When they reached the inn, Endar motioned for Elara to follow him around back. The backyard of the inn was private enough. There was a nice fence around it with only one gate and the inn's back door leading out. Endar motioned for Elara to come to him. "Take my hand." he said. "What? Why?" "Damn it girl I don't have to do this for you!" he paused. "Take... my hand." Elara nervously took Endar's hand. When she did, she noticed his beginning to glow along with hers, and a glowing circle appeared on the ground below them before fading away. Endar let go of her hand. She was confused as to what had just happened. "What uh, what did you-" "It was a marking spell." said Endar as he headed back to the streets to enter the inn. "Now if the meeting goes sour, I can cast recall, and we'll both appear on the marked spot. It's a good habit to get into." When Endar opened the door to the inn, he looked around a bit. It was loud and crowded. Almost every table was full. Most notable were the five drunken Nords at a table near the door who were singing something completely incomprehensible. There was an Imperial with a harp against the door side wall, but he wasn't playing. It wouldn't be possible to hear over the Nords' singing anyway. Endar peered over to the far wall, there in the corner of the room, sat a lone hooded fellow with a box on the table in front of him. "Wow." said Endar. "What is is?" asked Elara. She almost had to shout to be heard. "Oh nothing." responded Endar. "It's just that this has to be the most stereotypical shady meeting that I can think of. See that hooded man over there?" he nodded the man's way so Elara could see. "That's our guy. I bet you a day's wages that he's an Imperial." Elara wanted to laugh, as Imperials do love the dramatics, but she refrained from it. She had a hard time telling if the wizard was joking or not. She didn't even know if he was the type to make jokes. If he was, this was the first time she'd noticed it. Endar felt a little disappointed that his stewardess didn't catch his obvious joke. He shrugged. "Come on then." he worked his way through the room, taking no care to avoid pushing aside the patrons that were in his way. He said his "Excuse me" and Pardon me" when warranted, but they didn't seem all that genuine. Without asking permission, Endar took a seat opposite the hooded man. Now that he could clearly see his face, it was indeed an Imperial. He had long brown hair and appeared to be middle-aged. There weren't any particularly discernible features, but Endar couldn't tell for certain, as the man's eyes were under the shadow of his hood. The man looked at Endar, then up at Elara, who was standing by the table, still holding the chest. "That the money?" he said with a low raspy voice that Endar was pretty sure was fake. He nodded. "Yes. And you brought the artifact I see, he said, motioning toward the box on the table. "Or at least I hope that's what is in there. I don't like wasting time, and this trip has costed me many days and multiple servants." Elara's eyes went wide when she heard this. "Multiple what?!" she asked with a raised voice. "Shhh!" without even looking up, Endar offhandedly casted a calm spell on the girl to make her settle down. The Imperial chuckled at the Endar's treatment of his servant. "Your time wasn't wasted. Costed me a solid Septim to find it, but I can tell you, it's as real as it gets." The man opened his box and pulled out a horned helmet made of dark metal. On it was the intricately carved face of a bearded man. The helmet didn't look like something any normal warrior would wear. Only the greatest were deserving of such a prize. But it wasn't warriors who tended to be interested in it. "The Masque of Clavicus Vile." he handed it over to Endar. Endar looked over the Masque, turning it over in his hands to observe every little detail. He brought it up to his nose and gave the inside a sniff. His eyes narrowed. Endar didn't feel any power emitting from this "Daedric artifact" at all. "You don't seriously expect me to believe this is the real one do you?" he asked. "Where is the real Masque?" The man's deep voiced cracked a bit. "I can assure you sir, this is as real as it gets." Endar shook his head. "Please, this thing isn't even enchanted. There is no power in it at all. It's a fake." The man grew angry. "Now look here! I know for certain that this is the real Masque. I've used it myself. Maybe you aren't as good at picking up on magic as you think. Maybe you can't because this is a powerful Daedric artifact!" "I've dealt with Daedric artifacts before, and this isn't one, and now I'm beginning to think that you knew all along and are trying to scam me." Endar smiled. "But if you insist that it is real, and I'm just an incompetent fool, then we'll just have to prove that it works. Here." he said, holding the "artifact" to the man. "Put it on." The Imperial hesitated, then pulled back his hood. Endar could see nervousness deep in the man's green eyes now that they weren't covered. The man had gotten way in over his head and he now knew it. He put on the Masque. "Okay, now what?" "Ask my Stewardess's hand in marriage." he said nonchalantly. "What? It doesn't work like that!" said the man. "She knows what's going on!" Endar looked up at Elara, who was watching curiously. She didn't seem all that upset about being offered up to be wed. She was still under the effects of the calm spell. He looked back at the Imperial. "Her? She hasn't got a clue what's going on. She doesn't even know what the Masque is. Look at her! She's half dazed from the calm spell I put on her already!" "Wait..." said Elara. Realizing that she was under the spell weakened it's hold on her. Her voice sounded angry. "You put a calm spell on me?!" Endar threw another calm spell on her, and she immediately shut up. "See? Should be easy with the legendary Masque." The Imperial looked up at her with his dark helmet. "Uhh, will you... will you marry me?" Elara laughed at the odd man. "Hehehe, Of course not!" Endar looked back at the Imperial. "Well that's that then." he rose from his seat. He didn't show it, but he was extremely annoyed. There was so much else he could've done with this time, and he'd wasted it all on a half-hearted scam. "Come on Elara, we're leaving!" Suddenly, the man made a dash for Elara, and grabbed her, holding a knife to her throat with one hand, and grabbing the money chest with another. she didn't fight back, thanks to the calm spell. "I need this money Elf!" he said. Endar tilted his head. Nobody else in the crowded and loud room seemed to have noticed the display. "Then I recommend you find an honest way to make it. Now let go of her so I can be on my way. I've got a fine to go pay. The man wouldn't have it. He shook his head. He was still wearing the useless helmet, but Endar figured that he must've looked crazy underneath it. They usually do when they pull out knives. "Why don't you just head on out of here?" Endar sighed, and turned back to the door, walking away. Suddenly, Endar's right hand glowed purple, and a tankard flew out of one of the dunken Nord's hands and went flying over Endar's shoulder, slamming into the Imperial's knife hand, knocking it from his grip. Endar spun around and casted a fatigue spell on the man, causing him to collapse on the spot. Everyone underestimates damage fatigue. So much less draining than paralysis. "Look out!" shouted Elara, as the group of Nords, Endar had just stolen a tankard from walked up behind him. Endar spun around and began backing up. The Nords looked angry... and drunk. The biggest one in the front spoke up. "We don't erppreciate some fancy spell castin' Elf takin' are shtuff." Endar sighed. They couldn't see it from in front of him, but from behind, Elara could see the inside of his palms glowing a brighter and brighter green, as if he was charging a spell. "I can tell." said Endar. "Your face is getting all red and sweaty. You look mad." The Nord looked back at his friends, chuckling stupidly. "Look mad 'e says! Ha!" There'd be no reasoning here. This drunken Nord had been looking for a fight all day. "Why don't we show 'im how mad we a-" The Nord's mouth froze. As did the rest of his body, and the bodies of his companions. They'd been so drunk, it didn't surprise Endar that they'd missed the mass paralysis spell he'd been charging. One by one, they toppled over, as did the many other patrons, who were humorously falling out of their chairs. The leader, however, fell and hit his head on the corner of a square table, gashing it open and causing blood to immediately flow out. "Hmm..." Endar looked down at the bleeding man. He'd be dead in a minute. "Well that's unfortunate." Endar looked at the other frozen Nords. "I am truly sorry about your friend. It was an accident, I promise. I'm sure you all understand." He turned to Elara, who was also lying frozen on the ground. He casted a dispel spell on her. "Get up!" She looked at the now dead Nord. She was scared, but also angry. "Why didn't you just recall us?!?" Endar's brow raised. He'd completely forgotten about the mark in the backyard. "I forgot. Now shut it! We're leaving. Grab the chest." As Endar began stepping over bodies to head for the door, a peasant entered the room. His eyes widened and he immediately ran back to the streets. "I have a feeling that fine is about to go up a bit." said Endar as they crossed the room. Upon entering the street, Endar and Elara were greeted by a large circle of guards surrounding the building. "Stop right there criminal scum!" shouted one. Endar looked at them all and began counting. "One, two, three..." 'Nobody breaks the law on MY wa-" "Four, five, six..." "We are going to have to take you in to see the Cou-" "Seven, eight, nine..." "to the Count!" "Ten, eleven, twelve..." the guard looked confused and annoyed. "Will you STOP THAT?!" Elara looked at Endar curiously. "What are you counting?" The wizard sighed. "Well I WAS counting how many guards there were so we could see if I can afford to kill them and still pay the fine. But you and the loud one interrupted me. Now I have to start over." "What?!" said the guard. "Are you insane?" "No." replied Endar while counting. "Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen. Sixteen in all. Hey you, the one that yells a lot! What is the fine in Kvatch for murder? Is it a thousand Septims like most other places?" The guard couldn't believe what he was hearing. Fourteen years on the force, and this was the first time anyone had ever asked if they could afford to kill him and his men. "Yes." he said through gritted teeth. He was hoping this arrogant wizard would attack them. He wanted to kill the man himself. "Oh. That's a shame." Endar looked at Elara. "We only have six thousand on us counting the chest." He turned back to the guard. "Okay, I'll pay the fine where it stands now. You should know, I think I've only killed one person so far, so it's not that bad. And if you count everyone hit by the spell, which I personally wouldn't, there would be a quite a few assaults as well." The guard looked disappointed. "We're taking you to the Count. You can talk out your fine with him." Endar shrugged. "Do you mind if my Stewardess comes? She hasn't committed any crimes, but I like to keep her around in case I need something." The guard didn't answer. He honestly didn't know if that was allowed or not. The Count could decide. "Just walk!" "Fine. Fine." Endar grumbled as he began walking, Elara, not knowing what to do, opted to stay close by his side. He seemed to know how to handle the situation, and it would be a good idea to stay on his good side for the sake of her job. Of course, if worst came to worst, well she was innocent.

Boldir, Carlotta, and Mila Whiterun 7 A.M. There was a chilling morning breeze in the air. Carlotta had grown up in Skyrim, and was for the most part used to the cold. But she didn't have the natural resilience to it that the Nords do. She now stood, wearing a heavy coat and still shivering, watching from the wall outside the main gate as Boldir and twenty Whiterun soldiers headed northwest into the tundra. Their goodbyes had been short. Boldir hadn't had much to say, and treated it like it was any other day on the job. He may have seen it as such, but Carlotta's heart hadn't felt so heavy in months, and she doubted that would change until he returned. Blast it! Why couldn't he just let someone else go? Even if he hadn't already told her, Carlotta would've known the answer. Throughout the years as she grew up, she'd known far more Nords than Imperials. She knew exactly why Boldir wouldn't send men into battle without accompanying them. Honor was the often-used word for it, but that wasn't really it. Boldir didn't really seem all that concerned with honor. He was honorable, but it wasn't his motivation. Even though she understood his reasons, it didn't mean Carlotta liked it. Up until now, she'd never objected to Nordic ways. She'd grown up on them, same as anyone else raised in Skyrim. But now, when the man she loved's life was in danger because of them, she wanted no part of it. He'll be fine. she reassured herself. He's been through far worse. She knew it was true, and she found that this was the most comforting thing she could think of right now. After the soldiers were out of sight, Carlotta remained standing on the wall, still wondering if she had made the right decision in giving Boldir consent to do this. She wondered if he'd have still gone through with it if she hadn't. Finally, after several minutes, a gust of cold wind reminded her where she was. Carlotta made her way off the wall and back down into the city. It was still early, and Mila should be about finished opening up the fruit stand by now. *** Boldir hadn't thought too much about the upcoming battle when he and his company marched through the tundra. They followed him in an organized line, walking in a two by ten formation. There wasn't much need for it, but Boldir felt that it was a good idea to instill some military discipline in these men. They may have been good defenders of Whiterun, but they were not the disciplined Stormcloak soldiers he was used to leading. Still, they were far from inexperienced. Bandits had always been a problem north of Whiterun, and almost every man he'd chosen for this mission had fought them at some point in the past. Only three of them though, had ever raided a hideout like this. After several hours, around noontime, the old ruin finally came into view in the distance. They continued marching for another half hour until they were close enough to just be able to make out the shapes of bandits on the old walls. If they could see the bandits, then the bandits could undoubtedly see them. They moved up to a hill, and positioned themselves on the side opposite the ruin, so the bandits would lose sight of them. "Fall in." Boldir said, looking back at the soldiers. He stopped one of them, an archer named Langley. "Not you. You lay at the top of the hill and keep an eye on the bandits. Keep an eye on them and let me know if anyone leaves the ruins." The remaining nineteen came in close, standing in a clustered huddle in front of Boldir. "These may be disorganized bandits, but you can be assured that they already know we're out here. They wouldn't have missed us passing through the open tundra, so you can bet that they'll have several guards posted." Boldir paused and looked into the eyes of a worried-looking younger man towards the middle of the huddle. "What's the matter? You aren't afraid of a few bandits are you?" The man immediately straightened his face, or at least he tried to. "No sir." He said, unconvincingly. "Hmm" Boldir looked at him for a few more moments before responding. "That so? Then why in Oblivion do you look like you're being haunted by fucking ghost? This isn't the Dominion army you're about to go up against. This isn't even Imperials. It's just a bunch of poor cutthroats and highwaymen! I swear, I haven't seen my kid daughter look as afraid as you do right now!" The man's face turned red. He was embarrassed to be pointed out so harshly in front of so many of his friends. But Boldir's words, while harsh, did the trick. He did feel somewhat reassured. It sounded like Boldir knew what he was talking about, and if he said that this would be easy, odds were that it would be. "Uh, sorry sir!" He was glad that nobody laughed, or even snickered. Probably because they didn't want to be chewed out and compared to little girls somehow as well. Boldir shook his head. "Whatever, just follow my orders and we'll all come out of this just fine. Fiora, I hear you and Langley are the best scouts we have. That true?" The blonde-haired Nord nodded, smiling. She wasn't sure if Boldir knew it, as they didn't look much alike, but Langley was her twin brother. The two were inseparable. It's why they'd both become scouts in the first place. "I like to think so sir." "Good, time to prove it. I need you to take Langley and sneak in closer to scout the outer ruin. I want to know how many archers they have, and how many of the bastards are on watch. They know we're out here, so you two will have to be very careful getting close. Stay low and move through the taller grass. No need to rush it. If we end up attacking at night, that's fine." She nodded again and headed up the hill to get Langley. Boldir turned back to the others. "We'll wait here where we're out of sight for now." He pointed to another archer. He didn't know this one's name yet, but the man was an archer, so he must've had decent eyesight. "You take Langley's spot on watch. If they take long enough, I'll send someone to relieve you." "Sir." the man nodded and headed up to his new post. The rest of the soldiers dispersed. The hill was long enough to hide them from sight for a good distance, but most of them stayed close together. There wasn't anything to do or see further out, and there was a stream that ran behind them with plenty of rocks to sit on, so there was no point in straying. Boldir himself took a seat on a rock near the stream with three other soldiers. One of them was his second in command, Burik, who was also a Stormcloak, and was one of the many who fought in the Battle of Whiterun. They sat and talked for awhile, sharing war stories and discussing the local bandit clans that had caused trouble in the past. Boldir's mind however, trailed away to Carlotta. He knew she'd be worried sick right now. He couldn't wait to get this over with so he could return to her. *** 3 PM The day was stretching on, and still no word on the soldiers in the tundra. When Boldir had told Carlotta that this was going to be an easy mission, she had assumed that it finished by noon, but here it was, now three hours past and still nothing. She grew more and more worried as she waited. Calm down she told herself. He knows what he's doing. She could feel her heart thudding faster and heavier than usual. It's all part of his job. He's been doing worse his whole life. Her thoughts were interrupted when a man showed up at her stand. It was one of the Avulstein Gray-Mane, a friend of Boldir's if she remembered right. Avulstein was a Stormcloak as well, and when he disappeared during the civil war, everyone in town knew where he'd went. He wasn't seen again until just about a couple months ago. He returned to town, along with his brother Thorald, a Necro Nord, like Boldir. There had been quite a bit of celebration when they arrived. "Hello Avulstein." she said with a smile. She was good at appearing happy for customers. "Got some fresh apples here. The green ones in particular are very sweet today." Avulstein nodded but didn't smile back. He usually didn't. "Tempting, but I'll pass. I would like a basket of the snowberries though." Carlotta grinned as she opened the slide door at the back of her stand and took out a basket. She began scooping the berries into it. "A whole basket? I thought you didn't even like snowberries?" she said. "I don't." admitted Gray-Mane. "They aren't for me." "Oh, alright then." She made sure to pile in just a little extra. "Here you go! That'll be twenty Septims." "Thanks." Avulstein counted out the coins onto her stand before he began to walk off. "Avulstein wait!" she blurted. He turned around, his eyebrows raised. "Yes?" "You're a soldier." Carlotta said carefully. "How long would it take to assault an enemy camp?" "Depends on the enemy." he said. "And the camp." he looked at her and gave a rare smile. "If you're worried about Boldir heading off to Silent Moons, don't be. He's the toughest man I know. Bandits won't be a problem for him." "I know. I know. That's what he said, and what I keep telling myself. But They've been gone since early this morning, and I'm getting worried. Should it take so long?" "You've gotta remember, that camp is several hours away on foot, and Boldir is being careful. He doesn't want anyone to get killed on this mission. They'll take their time and scout it out. Don't be surprised if they aren't back until tonight." That made Carlotta feel much better. Boldir taking long because he was being cautious hadn't even occurred to her. She'd been too busy worrying that it must have been a complication. She smiled at Avulstein. "Thank you." "Mmhh." he said, turning back around and heading off. Carlotta decided to take a rare break and sat down in her chair behind the stand. For the first time since Boldir left, she wasn't feeling so worried. *** 6 P.M. "No way, that's clearly a Breton." "You need to get your eyes checked out Sis. That's an Imperial. Look at how dark his skin is." "But he's so short." "Imperials ARE short." "Not that short." "They can be. I've even seen some of our own kinsmen who were that short before." "Yeah right. Who?" Langley and Fiora didn't really care what the bandit they were looking at was, but the two always enjoyed a good banter. Most people found it annoying, as the two always devolved to bickering and arguing over the most pointless and stupid of subjects. They both knew it too, but they didn't care. That it bugged people was half the fun. Of course, they took their assignment seriously, and never spoke like this when they needed to be silent, but they knew they were safe from being heard, as their position on the mountain north of Silent Moons Camp was well out of earshot. Not to mention the wind was blowing from the direction of the camp, carrying anything they said away from it. The two of them had spent several hours creeping through the grass and rocks of the tundra to get around the camp, and spent several more scaling the mountain behind it. Now, they had an excellent vantage point, and from where they were, they'd counted twelve different bandits so far. Though only eight were actually on watch. Six of those were archers. The twins' plan was to wait up here and see how the bandits moved. It was growing late, and soon they'd surely change up watch shifts. After the shifts changed, and they could get a reasonable headcount, Fiona and Langley would carefully come back down and circle the long way back to the rest of their unit. "So what do you think of this?" asked Langley, after they'd sat for maybe five minutes of silence. "We haven't done anything like this in a very long time. Not since bandits took that northern watchtower." "You mean bandit hunting missions?" asked Fiora. "Or us doing some actual scouting?" "Both, really. There isn't much else for us to scout for other than Giants, and how often are they even a threat? I'm honestly enjoying that we're scouting an actual threat for a change. It makes me feel more useful." Fiora nodded. She felt the exact same way. Yeah, I hear you. We've never really gotten much use. Whiterun's always been fairly safe as far as holds go. But used to, when bandits popped up, they usually stayed up until someone hired mercenaries or some group of adventurers put them down. It's refreshing to see that we're actually doing our job." "Yeah, I respect Iron-Brow for that. Say what you want about him, he may be strict, but we're getting things done now. Just you wait and see, in a couple years, there won't be any bandits daring to set up in Whiterun at all." "And we'll be going back to watching Giants stand around doing nothing but eat and shit all day." said Fiora with a grin. "You should be more respectful of Giants." said Langley matter-of-factly. "Someone told me that they're our ancestors... Or something like that." Fiora didn't care. "All our ancestors do is eat and shit... That and watch their mammoths." "That's not true at all." Langley was starting to get defensive of the large creatures. "If you actually paid attention, you'd know that they actually have a pretty advan-" "Shut up and look!" Interrupted Fiora. She pointed to the camp, where the bandits had begun to change shifts. Several they hadn't seen yet were leaving the interior of the ruins. "One..." she said, beginning to count the number of new replacements they hadn't seen yet. "Two..." said Langley, pointing out another. "Three, four..." "Five..." "Six." "Plus two more that we saw outside earlier." said Langley. He quickly counted on his fingers. "That makes eighteen bandits in all." "There were two we saw that didn't take watch. That big heavily-armored Nord and his Argonian friend from earlier." said Fiora. "I'd bet you the Nord was the leader. The Argonian's likely a mage, considering he carried a staff. They wouldn't take watch." he answered. Fiora didn't say anything. She just nodded and turned to the tree her bow and quiver were leaning on beside her brother's. She retrieved them and handed Langley his. Without saying another word, the two siblings began the slow climb down the mountainside. *** "Be home by bedtime sweetie." said Carlotta, giving her daughter a kiss on the forehead before heading to the tavern for dinner. Normally, they'd go eat together, along with Boldir, but this time Mila had said that she wanted to stay out and play with her friends instead. She'd had a big lunch anyway. "Okay mamma!" said Mila. She ran to the house to change before going to meet her friends. She put on her worn out clothes that she usually wore when playing and didn't want to get her nicer clothes dirty. They consisted of some old sack cloth pants and a faded gray shirt with dirt stains rubbed into it that her mother's best scrubbing couldn't get out. Then, she put on a long brown belt meant for a grown up, but she was able to wrap it all the way around her waist twice to make it tight enough. Finally, she grabbed the wooden sword Baldur had bought her and slid it under the belt. When she came outside, Mila began to head for where Braith, Lars, and Lucia should be waiting behind the Drunken Huntsman. When she got there, Lars and Braith were arguing about something. Lucia was watching. "No" said Braith. "You're just a Milk-Drinker!" "I'm not a Milk-Drinker Braith, I just don't think this is a good idea! We could get in trouble." "That IS being a Milk-Drinker!" For once, Lucia actually seemed to be somewhat in agreement with Braith. "Come on Lars!" she said, stepping in. "You never even get in trouble with your parents. The worst they'll do is ground you for a while." "Yeah" said Braith. "Me 'n Mila can get in way more trouble than you and we aren't scared. Right Mila?" she said, noticing that Mila had arrived. Mila nodded. "Right." She was lying of course. She was terrified of what was going to happen when they got back. A spanking was certain. So was a grounding. But despite the consequences, she felt that the reward would be worth it. Lars looked at each of the three girls. "Fine." he said finally. Mila could tell that he was still scared. Lars couldn't hide it like she could. But he was the only boy of their group. And if he was going to a fraidy cat and stay, he wouldn't hear the end of it. The gate was already open, and would stay that way until dark, which would be soon. But none of that mattered, Mila and Lucia had found another way years ago. Under the gate bridge, where the water ran, there was a grate that the children could just barely fit through. They slid between the bars, Lars, being the biggest, really had to squeeze to fit this past year, but he still did. They made their way through the dark tunnel, careful to walk along the sides so the water wouldn't sweep out their feet as it had so many times before. It was fun to ride the water, but running into the bars at the far end of the tunnel was an experience that none of them hoped to repeat. After passing through the bars on the far end, which exited out below the city drawbridge, the friends passed through the last segment of the old walls on the outskirts of the city. "Which horse is your dad's?" Mila asked Braith when they arrived at the stables. Braith pointed to a large brown horse that was currently grazing outside in the pin. It wasn't wearing a saddle. "Okay. I'll go get the saddle." said Mila before sneaking off. "I'll get Tiber." said Braith, motioning toward the horse. She pointed at Lucia and Lars, then to the stable hand, who was sitting on a bale of hay whistling some song. "You two go distract the him." Mila made her way to the stable, careful not make sure the hand was looking the other way. As she headed under the roof, the horses in the building looked at her. It made Mila feel awkward, like they would tattle on her for being bad. Stop being dumb. she told herself. Animals can't tell on you. She reached up to grab one of the saddles hanging from the wall, but it was just out of reach. She jumped, and her hand just barely scratched the bottom of it. When she came down, her foot hit a bucket of water, causing it to overturn and spill. Mila's eyes went wide and she darted behind a horse, hoping nobody heard it. After a minute of waiting, nobody had come. She let out a heavy breath and went back to the saddle. She picked up the now-empty bucket and turned it upside down. She smiled, proud of her inventiveness. She climbed onto the bucket and grabbed the saddle. Trying to ignore the knowing gazes the horses were giving her, Mila darted from the stable and made for the meeting spot behind the hill. Braith was already there with Tiber. "It's about time you got here. You had the easy job." she said, annoyed. "I couldn't reach the saddle!" said Mila. "Whatever. Lars and Lucia are coming. They got that guy to follow them toward the gate. When Lars tells him that he's a Battle-Born, he should leave them alone." On cue, Lars and Lucia appeared over the hill. They ran down to meet their friends. "Looks like we're good." said Mila as she and Lucia put the saddle on Tiber, making sure it was tight. "This better be worth it." said Braith. "It'll be fun!" Mila assured her. "After all, how many bandit fights have you ever seen?" *** 8 P.M. It was growing late, and some of the soldiers were growing impatient. Boldir could hear some of them complaining under their breaths every now and then. He had to keep reminding himself that the discipline they'd been taught was much different from his own. We'll work on that over time. he reasoned. This fight should be a good start for them. Boldir knew that most of them had fought bandits before, but not like he planned to. The extent of their experience came from blindly rushing in and killing everything. And every time they had, their own numbers had suffered almost as much as the bandits. Boldir hoped that they could do this without losing any lives. It would be open the hold guards' eyes to the value of being prepared. And he didn't want to have to deliver any letters to families that'd just lost someone. That was a task he prayed could end with his career as a soldier. Or at least, a real soldier. thought Boldir. The Whiterun hold guards were still considered soldiers, but in his eyes, this was not real military work. All of Skyrim's real soldiers were either preparing for the coming war with the Elves, or fighting Forsworn in the Reach. "Hey Boldir." it was Burik. "Aren't you getting a bit worried about the scouts? We sent them out hours ago. Maybe we should just move on without them." Boldir sighed. He'd hoped that Burik of all people wouldn't start getting impatient. "They didn't get caught. Our lookout would've noticed. We wait, and that's final. I told them that if it grew dark, so be it. They're taking their time and being careful. Better than the alternative." he said, looking at some of the more restless men around him. "I suppose. But still-" Burik was interrupted by a commotion as all the soldiers began to rise from their seats. Some began moving towards the hill. Boldir himself stood up and turned. He could see the two scouts he'd sent off earlier heading his way from the west side of the hill. "We got what we could." said Fiona as they reached him. "Eight bandits outside right now. Five are archers. The archers are lining the outer walls of the ruin, and the other three are just on watch with cheap looking swords. There are at least ten more inside. We think the leader is a Nord in plate armor, and they've got an Argonian spellcaster inside. If there are any more, they never once poked their heads out. 'Least not this afternoon." Boldir nodded, this was enough to go on. He motioned for everyone to come in, though in their excitement at something happening, they already had. "Alright, here's the plan. There's a lot of open ground to cover, and their archers will pick us off if we don't do this right. We're going to move in as a tight group, and we'll use a shield wall formation as we do. I'll stay in the front, along with six other shields. Then a second row of you will be immediately behind us, with your shields raised high to deflect arrows from above. The remaining four of you will stay low behind them, using bows. Which of you are the best shots?" The twins raised their hands, as did another man, the lookout Boldir had posted earlier. Burik pointed to the current lookout on the hill. "Strun is a pretty good shot. He can be the fourth." Boldir nodded. "That'll work. Alright, so we'll move up the middle, straight to the camp. Their archers won't be able to touch us, hopefully ours are good enough to take them out as we advance." he looked hard at everyone. "No heroics. Got it? Breaking formation will get you, and likely others killed. We move forward as a team, and don't disband the wall unless I say so. Are we clear?" "Yes sir!" they said in unison. *** Mila was the first to dismount when they got close enough to see the old ruin. She ran for the top of a hill for a better vantage point. "Whoaaa!" "Mila wait!" Lucia called after her. "We need to tie up Tiber somewhere." Mila ignored her. Watching the scene below. It was dark, but the moonlight tonight was more than enough to easily see everything going on. She could see her father, along with a bunch of other guards, holding up shields. They made some kind of wall with them, and there were bandits all over the ruin, shouting and uselessly firing arrows at the shields. The wall of men was moving forward, and every now and then one of them would pop up and return an arrow at the bandits, but so far, they'd missed every time. She could tell her dad apart from the rest because he wore his heavy armor and his shield had fancy carvings. Braith showed up behind Mila and squatted down next to her. "Thanks for the help." she said. Mila knew she didn't mean it though. "Tiber almost... got... awa-" her voice trailed off when she saw the battle going on below. Soon enough, Lars and Lucia arrived as well. They watched in awe as the soldiers and bandits fought each other. Finally, after her dad and his group got close to the ruin, one of the archers, a blonde Nord woman, stood up and fired an arrow at one of the bandits. It hit the man in the throat. Mila's eyes went wide when she saw the blood begin to gush out of his neck. "Did you see that?!" shouted Lars. See it? Mila couldn't take her eyes off of it. The man slumped down and fell from the ruin wall, landing so that the arrow was pushed all the way through his neck and out the other end. After several minutes passed, and five more bandits had been felled by arrows, the wall had reached the center of the ruin. Mila heard a voice that sounded like her father's, shout something she couldn't make out. Suddenly, the wall of shields came apart, and her dad charged straight at two "sword bandits". He bashed one to the ground with a shield and sliced the other's neck with his axe. Before the one on the ground could move, her father had brought the axe down into his skull. "Whoaa" said Lucia. "Your pa really is a warrior!" Mila was shaking, with excitement or fear, she couldn't yet tell. She wasn't like Lucia or Lars. She'd never seen someone die before. Braith hadn't either, but she was tough, and it probably didn't faze her. When Mila watched her dad kill the two bandits without hesitation, she felt something heavy at the pit of her stomach. It was not what she'd expected. One minute the bandits had been alive, and the next, they weren't. It was just like that, and her dad had made it happen. What did I expect? she wondered. One last bandit, another sword carrier, popped out from behind some broken wall pieces and ran for the tundra. Mila saw her dad calmly point him out, and three arrows were loosed in his direction. The bandit collapsed with two arrows in his back. "This is dumb." said Braith. "I'm going home." "What?" said Mila, turning to the girl. "No it isn't! And you can't go home without us!" Mila noticed an odd look in Braith's eyes. They didn't have the usual strong confidence in them. She almost looked afraid. "Then come with me." she said. "Either way, I'm leaving. And if you want to ride back on Tiber, you come with me." "Come on Braith." said Lucia. "We don't want to leave yet." "I'm leaving." she said, already getting up and making for where she'd tied the horse to a small tree. Lars looked expectantly at Mila and Lucia and sighed. "Let's go." Mila crossed her arms. She'd had enough of Braith's bullying and trying to be the leader, when the truth was that she was just scared. "No. I'm staying." "Me too." said Lucia. Lars looked at both of them, Mila could see that he was shocked. "Uhhh... you sure about this? You will have to walk all the way back." Mila nodded. She was defiant about it now. She would follow the soldiers back if she had to. "Okaaay... I'll cover for you both when I get back." Lars ran to meet Braith at the horse. Mila couldn't believe what she'd just done. Now, there was no chance in getting back in time to make an excuse. She was going to get in a LOT of trouble and she knew it. Turning to Lucia, she said, "Thanks. I wouldn't want to be out here by myself." Lucia nodded. "Don't mention it. I've got nobody to yell at me for it anyway." She wasn't sure how to correctly respond to her orphan friend's statement, so Mila just turned back to the ruin. There were three soldiers with bows still outside near the top of the ruin's stairs. Other than that, nobody was there anymore, which meant they must've all gone inside. She hesitated, then said "You want to get a closer look?" *** Clearing the outside had been easy. Boldir's shield wall had made it impossible for the bandits to hurt them until it was too late. The inside was more difficult. The narrow halls and rooms made it impossible to rely on numbers or archers. Still intent on keeping anyone from dying, Boldir took the lead, with Burik at his side. The first room had contained five bandits, all with iron or steel axes and swords. When they charged him, Boldir immediately ducked the first swipe, and kicked the front attacker back into the two behind him. Burik drove his mace into another's skull. As the three bandits flailed about and eventually collapsed, Boldir drove his axe into the top one's skull. He raised his shield to block a high blow from the one bandit that remained standing. Burik's mace flew into his face and sent him flying into the wall. The two remaining bandits, one a Nord, and one... Boldir couldn't tell if it was an Imperial or a Breton, were comically trying to swing at his armored shin from under their dead friend. Boldir stepped on the Nord's arm and brought his axe down onto his face. He then did the same to the Breton/Imperial. "Next room." he said, nodding to Burik. The next room went similarly, except there were only four enemies, one of which was an Argonian mage. Boldir and Burik made short work of all four. "That's seventeen by my count." said Boldir as he dislodged his axe from the lizard's skull. "Looks like our Nord leader is all that's left. He probably high tailed it out of here." They pushed to the next room of the ruin. There was a locked door, which Boldir easily kicked open. Boldir raised his shield as he busted into the large round room. Empty. There was a ladder in the center, and the trap door at the top still hung open. Boldir looked around the room. On top of the large treasure chest that bandits so often keep, there were dozens of steel weapons strewn about. "Loot the place." Boldir said. "I'm going to go outside and see if our archers caught the leader." Boldir grabbed hold of the ladder and started up. He carefully stuck his head out and saw that it was just a large, empty room inside the wall of the outer ruin. He pulled himself up and redrew his axe. There was an open gate at the end of the room that he made for. While he cautiously made his way for the gate, he heard a the loud scream of a little girl. It can't be. "Mila!!!" he shouted, sprinting back into the outer ruin. There he saw a terrifying sight. A large Nord, clad in heavy armor with an arrow in his shoulder, stood crouched behind a little blonde girl with a glowing sword to her neck. The man turned when he saw Boldir exit the ruin. "Don't take another step!" he screamed. "Or I'll cut her throat!" Boldir stopped in his tracks. He looked up the stairs to the top of the ruin and saw the twins and Strun, all of their bows raised, but their arrows weren't pulled back. They couldn't risk hitting the girl. "Easy now. Don't do anything stupid." said Boldir, sheathing his axe. "You hurt her, and you'll regret it. I'll make sure of that." The bandit didn't seem worried. He knew he had the advantage with the girl. He began backing into the tundra wilderness. "That's great. Now why don't all of you go back into the ruin, and I'll take her with me a ways. When I'm safe, I'll send her back to you. We can all be happy." Boldir wasn't looking to negotiate, but he didn't see a choice. He was about to open his mouth to respond when he spotted a low figure in the darkness behind the bandit. It appeared to be sneaking up on him. He took another few steps toward him. "I'm warning you bandit. Let her go or else." "Or else what? Face it! I have the upper hand heaaaaaa!" The bandit screamed as what appeared to be a wooden sword flew straight up between his legs from behind. The little blonde girl pushed free and ran. Before He could see who it was that caused the man's pain, Boldir charged him, unsheathing his axe. He immediately punched the bandit in the jaw with his left hand, sending him flying several feet and to the ground. Boldir kicked the glowing sword aside and got on top of him. He began repeatedly punching the helpless bandit in the face. He yanked off his own helmet so that the bandit could see his face as he killed him. "You like to threaten children do you?!" Boldir jammed the hilt of his axe into the man's teeth, breaking most of them. He turned his axe and brought it down into the man's nether-regions, causing the man to scream like no man ever should. "Why scream? There was nothing there anyway!" Boldir looked at the pathetic man's eyes. He was slipping unconscious. Boldir was about to wake him up so he'd feel everything when he remembered that he wasn't alone. Boldir looked back, and saw the terrified blonde girl, now accompanied by the archers, standing several feet to his left. The girl was hiding her face into Fiora's armor. Strun, Langley and Fiora however, weren't looking at him. They were looking past him with sad expressions. Boldir turned and looked to his right and his heart stopped. There, not but four feet away from him, stood little Mila, her eyes wide and face pale. She was holding the little wooden sword Baldur had given her at her side. The tip was slightly bloody. Boldir looked at the man he'd just brutalized in front of his daughter, then back to her. "Mila..." By the gods... what did I just do? "B-Boldir?" she didn't look scared, just in shock. "What are you doing here?" Boldir got off of the bandit and walked over to embrace his daughter, too worried about what she'd just seen to think about being mad. "I-I-We..." The girl stammered, still looking past him at the butchered Nord. His chest was still heaving. "He's still alive." Boldir hugged her tightly, covering her eyes with his arm so she wouldn't have to watch. He nodded back to the others. "Come with me." Langley gently said to the blonde girl, taking her hand and leading her back to the ruin. Strun picked up the glowing sword and plunged it into the bandit chief's neck. The area around the neck began to sizzle, and an odd white fiery light emitted from the wound as Strun pulled out the blade. The glow of it looked kind of like moonlight. Boldir finally let go of Mila now that the man was no longer breathing. "Oh gods Mila... I'm so SO sorry that you had to see me do that." "It's okay." she said, with almost no fear in her voice. That scared Boldir. It scared him more than just about anything he'd ever heard. "Now..." Boldir felt about as shaken up now as Mila must have. He looked back to the ruin, where soldiers were beginning to emerge. "You... You have some serious explaining to do. But that'll have to wait. I'll cover for you with mom for now. But I want a full explanation." Mila nodded. She didn't seem too worried. In fact, she didn't seem to have much emotion at all. Her skin looked paler than his, and Boldir was worried that she was in shock. What she'd just seen here, it wouldn't leave her. And it wouldn't leave him either.

Skjari, Theodore Imperial City Afternoon Theodore sat in his room, reading a book with a glass of wine in hand. The day was a pleasant one, and Theodore had the window open to let in the breeze. Suddenly a knock cake on the door, and an Imperial courier stood with a letter in hand. Theodore handed him a few septims and dismissed him, before opening the letter. It was an invitation to visit the court mage, a Nord by the name of Skjari. Theodore dressed in his brown cape with the bull emblem on the back and his green shirt and black pants. He finished up the glass of wine and left the tavern. The stairs to the court mage's tower were an arduous climb, and they left Theodore gasping for breath when he reached the top. He straightened up and caught his breath before knocking on the door to the mage's quarters. "Come in." He heard from the other side of the door. Theodore opened the door and walked into the room, where he found the court mage sitting behind a desk in the middle of the room. "The letter said you wanted to see me. I assume you know who I am, as I know of you. So what is it you want?" Theodore sat down in a chair in front of the desk, waiting for a reply. The small dragon statue at the desk thought Thedore sat down a bit too close so it covered up the blue crystal with the wings and opened it's mouth in a threatening manner, like it was going to roar at him, before freezing back to immovable stone. "Don't mind that." Skjari said after the dragon had moved. "Now how to put it? You are in close relation with the king of High Rock. And we both know it would good for both Cyrodiil and High Rock to remain at good footing. Especially now that another Great War is looming in the horizon." Theodore was intrigued by the by the statue, but ignored it to answer the question. "Yes, ill relations could mean the end of the empire, with just Cyrodiil remaining. Which may not be a bad thing. I personally could care less either way, but for the right price I may persuade the right people to side one way or the other." "I bet you can move some weight in you circles and get trade flowing and such. And that would be appreciated. You can even get nice piece of the cake when it comes to the trade agreements that will be struck between the kingdoms." "Yes, I'm sure my 'father' will want more freedom and less Imperial control with the Empire being reduced to just two provinces. But I see us returning to being part if the Empire once this is all over. And trade will continue on, I just may have my foot in the door then." Theodore leaned back in the chair, the front two legs coming off the ground. "Do you know why I'm here? Officially and....unofficially?" "I don't know anything concrete, but I bet it has something to do with the Thalmor or something back in High Rock or both." Theodore smiled, the grin crossing his face momentarily before he got serious again. "Officially, I'm here to lead our troops if...when...the fighting starts. I'm also here to make sure any decisions are in the best interest of High Rock. Unofficially, I'm here on the personal business of making friends." Theodore thought over what he just said. "Well, friends probably isn't the best word. Contacts, acquaintances, those are probably better terms. I'm here to look after my interests as well as High Rock's." "We have a mutual goal concerning contacts then. As that's partly why I invited you here today." "Well, it appears this will be can be a mutually beneficial relationship. I give you a high ranking contact in High Rock, and the military, while I get a contact who has the new Empress' ear." "Now that we got that settled... A little bird told me that Lorgar and Tullius are frequent guests at the inn you're staying at. And I fear that Lorgar's mental health isn't in the best of conditions right now and I would like if you can keep an eye on him. I also expect that you want a favor in return." Theodore pondered the proposal. "Yes, I can keep an eye on him. I would think that you would like to know that he got in a fight the other day. A few drunks insulted a woman he liked. In return, I would like you to tell me what you know about a certain Dunmer woman. She was masquerading as a prostitute. She works for an information broker, one who also wanted my aid. I consented, but I'm not sure I trust them persay. I've seen plenty of shady characters who have been to the Fox recently, but I'm not sure if one is him or her. Do you know anything about this person, and their masquerading prostitute?" "I don't really know anything about a prostitute, though from your description I would guess she's working for someone named Samuel, am I correct?" "I didn't catch his name, but that may be the man. What do you know of this Samuel?" "He's an information broker that I've met. Apparently quite good at what he does. He's an imperial, brown short hair and quite pale from what I can remember. I'm fairly certain that he's still in the city. You should be careful if you are to make deals with him. Keep him at arms length. He is actually the man that forced the previous general Marius to desert to the Stormcloaks. So my advice is to not anger him but also to not get too involved with him." "Hmmm...that is interesting. I remember seeing someone who matches that description, shady character who showed up to talk to the innkeeper a few days ago. I'll remember your advice when dealing with him." Theodore averted his eyes to the statue, watching it as it curled around the blue stone in the center. "What a curious trinket you have there. How did you come about it?" "I created it a few weeks ago." "Quite intriguing. What is that it guarding?" "A little crystal I also created. Just a small power source." Relatively speaking. Theodore stood up, his eyes averting from the statue to the mage. "Well, I believe this was a very...beneficial meeting for the both of us. I think I will take my leave now, unless there is something else you wish to speak about." "One last thing I would ask of you; keep an eye out among the nobles for anything amiss. I know this is the spymaster's responsibility but I've noticed you have a way with the nobles. So if anything I think you would be one of the first to notice." "True. I'll keep my eyes and ears open. That I you for the invitation." With that Theodore left, closing the door behind him and beginning the long walk down the stairs.

Maggie Talos Plaza District afternoon Though it felt like her two centuries of life were closing in around her, Magdela had tried hard to maintain a normal facade and normal schedule. If the hunter was watching, or her father's henchmen, there must be nothing to give her away. She had nightblade bodyguards following her all the time now, who when they were seen at all would make themselves out to be normal mercenaries. Maggie suspected they were also in Darius' employ, but at least they would intervene for Thalmor or Vigilant attacks. With these guards in tow, Maggie set out from her house to see her publisher. It was time to talk about a new book, and to arrange a second printing of Sons of Skyrim. The news of the Battle of Pale Pass, fighting and restoration in Bruma, and the return of the northern legion had made the subject was once again iron hot, and copies of her book were flying off the shelves at The First Edition and every other bookstore in Cyrodiil. Julia lived in the Talos Plaza District. The name of the plaza had been restored along with the lifting of the ban on Talos worship, and in the former Dominion Plaza, the statue of the justiciar had been dismantled with typical imperial efficiency. That left the legionnaire standing alone with his hand outstretched. Maggie thought it a poignant image for the current state of the empire. The publisher's stately row house was on a side street. In the foyer, Maggie stopped short as she saw not Julia, but her own sister Sofia. Though they were all in the Order, Sofia had never socialized with her publisher before. The sight of her there could only mean one thing. "Hello, Magdela." Sofia appeared unnerved, but brushed past her without another word and headed for the door. In the study, Julia was sitting at a side table with some papers in front of her, her expression stricken. She looked up. "It's over, Maggie. If I don't drop you as a client, they'll take my house and move on the printing press next." It was as Maggie had suspected. Her father was moving to cut off the beloved hobby he resented so much, and her independent means of money and popular influence. No doubt he meant to alienate her one friend outside the family sphere, as well. There were other publishers besides Julia, but if Maggie tried to keep her writing career in defiance of Darius' wishes, the same would happen to them, eventually. Fury gripped her, but none of it was Julia's fault. Turning, Maggie ran back out the foyer and into the street. She caught up to her sister as she turned onto the next side street, her guards trailing. "Sofia! He's going to do it to you, too." The dark-haired woman turned, her face a blank. She appeared older than Maggie by ten years, with hair drawn into a neat coil, her clothing finely made but drab. Everything about her was utterly forgettable, which was as Sofia preferred it. She was reclusive, only appearing in society the minimum amount necessary for her husband's bank functions. Her two small children solely occupied her time. "He'll never have a cause to." She began to walk on. "Do you even know what happened to your mother?" That made her stop again. Though Sofia was known as the elder daughter, she was in fact much younger than Magdela, and born of a different mother, a woman none of them had ever seen. Darius had simply shown up at the Jeralls keep one day with a baby, who was given over to be raised by servants. Anna Bathory pretended nothing had happened. Maggie and Jem were rarely allowed to even see the other child in the estate, or to ask questions about her. It hadn't made for sibling affections. This was dangerous ground if Darius was listening. Suddenly Maggie didn't care. She cast a muffle spell to prevent anyone else from hearing, then stepped around to face Sofia. "What's going to happen someday when one of your children refuses to turn?" Sofia's eyes flared and she stared at Maggie, horrified. The two half-sisters rarely spoke at all, and when they did it was only of stiff pleasantries or veiled insults. Even in private, they had never spoken of what Samuel referred to as the Bathory family's many secrets. There wasn't to be any conversation about them today, either. "You stay away from my children," Sofia answered coldly, then she brushed past and practically ran the length of the street. Maggie watched until she turned a corner and was out of sight, then herself started out for the palace. There was no reason to go back to see Julia. Perhaps none of it would matter in a few days.

@BigBossBalrog Wow, I complain about Anime stuff sometimes but back in the day it seemed crazier.

Marius, Alef, Samuel Imperial city, Afternoon-Night “Darkness Consumes” "Aleffea," Samuel stood in the corner of the room, the very same place Alef had been during his discussion with Maggie, as she entered the room. She had almost taken of her dress entirely as she entered the room, letting it fall to the ground just before he managed to speak out and get her attention. She didn't seem bothered. Or rather, she seemed bothered, but not because she was naked. "Samuel!" she walked over to him with decisive steps. Before he could say anything more, the palm of her hand collided with his left cheek. He had t admit that he deserved that. What he heard Marius had done to her more than warranted a reaction of that kind. "You s'wit! Why didn't you warn me!? You're supposed to-" He held up his hand, gesturing her to calm down. "You're right, and I apologize. I did not know that he would find you, but I should have. How would you like me to make it up to you?" "Well, first-" Alef stopped in her tracks. What did she want as compensation for what had happened? She had been so focused on letting him taste some of her anger that she had completely forgot to think about it. What did she want? "I- I don't know... but you damn better make it up to me, or I'll-" The two of them looked at each other in silence for a moment, before she hit him in the face a second time. "Just- just get to the point already! I... I don't want to be around you right now." Very well, Samuel thought to himself. She deserves that, at least. I'll have to think more about how I can make it up to her, but first she is going to have to carry out her duties. "I have a letter here, addressed to the man who did this to you. I want you to deliver it to him." Samuel held out a scroll that wore the seal of the Imperial Legion. Alef had no idea how he managed to get a hold of things like that. Surely, someone would have noticed and acted on it by now? Then again, considering who she were talking to... "You want me to return to the guy who started to torture me for information about your sorry hide!?" For the third time her hand made contact his his face, but he didn't seem to mind her taking out some anger on him. "Fine! Just- just leave already, will you? And don't you dare forget to make this up to me!" *** Marius was currently in a tavern called "The smelly Apple", drinking a mug of ale. He wasn't drunk...yet. He just wanted to forget what happened so recently. "General," Alef had asked around, hoping that someone had seen Ambassador Imperius. Most people weren't entirely sure who that was, but most people found the description of an aging Imperial General to be fairly reasonable. Well, most people who knew anything said that there was someone they thought to be a former general with a pale, almost sick looking paleness to his face that had made his way to a shady bar in an alley. Turned out that this was indeed her mark, and now she stood right behind him with a hand on his shoulder. "Ah...you...what is it?" Said Maius, he took another chug of his ale, "Why are you here?" she took a seat next to him. Well, not entirely next to him; she left a small area between them just in case. "Trying to drink yourself to death?" "What do you think?. I just tortured an innocent for no reason...” "You tortured me for no reason, not any innocent bystander. I am honest enough to admit I am far from innocent," Alef tried to be friendly, but was unsure how Marius took it. He seemed... disturbed. Understandable, but it still unnerved her. "Still, I'm gonna have the scar on my shoulder for a long time to come. I hope you understand that I have a certain urge to hit you in the face." "I understand. Hit me if you want, I dont care. I dont care about anything now." Marius had a sad look about him, as if he had given up on life.” "Not even a letter from Samuel himself?" That peeked Marius's curiosity, but only a little. "Show me." Alef reached into a pocket on her belt, taking out a scroll. She hesitated when she gave it to him, not wanting to come into contact with him. She changed the grip on it to one of the ends, letting Marius take a hold of the other. Once he got a hold of it, the seal broke by himself. Samuel never did anything half-way it seemed, even when delivering a simple message. It read: Marius, It has been a long time coming, but I fear that the time to end this is coming closer. I am giving you a choice; leave for the outskirts of Tamriel and remain there until your body withers into uselessness. If you chose this option, you will be allowed to live out your life without having to worry about me. The other option is to continue the Hunt, which will force me to take your life. If you chose this, enter the Bloodworks part of the sewers tonight. I cannot promise you will find me, but your only path in the Hunt lies in those sewers. S After reading the letter, while looking the same, Marius got out of his chair, dumped the beer, and got out of his seat. Walking towards the door like a zombie, he turned around to Alef, before saying, "This wont help, but I want you to know i'm sorry for what I did too you, this quest for vengeance has consumed me. I go now to face the end, but Stendar wont find me wanting." And without delay, Marius began to walk towards the Sewer. Alef remained seated until the man left. This was his choice? He was given the option to leave it all behind and be left alone, yet he chose to go to a certain doom? She'd never understand warrior types. Too obsessed with a good death. Or revenge. Seemed to be common enough among them. He was an idiot, he had to be. Throwing away everything on a needless hunt for a man that never lost. He'd be lucky if he saw the end coming. For a few minutes after he had left, she remained in the same position. She had to get back to Tanie's establishment, lest she be missed. *** Samuel left a note on the table in Maggie's garden, before he turned invisible once more. As always, the Nightblades she had hired to protect this place had been completely useless in keeping him out. With this note left here, Maggie should be warned to stay away from Marius as that situation was now under control. *** Marius didn't know what the time was, he didn't care. He just advanced, and when one of those half-assed sell-swords attacked him, he would just elimate them in a handful of seconds. He was by now covered in crimson blood, almost none of it his own. Bastard’s just trying to soften me up... The tunnel had been crawling with sellswords, they were little threat to a highly trained swordsmen like Marius. Marius had goten to what appeared to be the entrance to something, hopefully the bloodworks. He entered. Unbeknownst to Marius, Samuel followed him through the door. So the fool had taken the short way out. Disappointing, but not exactly surprising. Marius had never been one to let things go. Always so obsessed with things. Silently he ran past him, taking to the left and up a flight of stairs. He knew the sewers well. Well enough to get to the room best suited for this a long time before Marius would. A feral hid in one of the corners he passed by, licking the wall. Filthy creature, but unworthy of his attention right now. And it was a good sign; if there was ferals in these tunnels still, any body would be eaten in a manner of days. Hopefully none of them was made aware of Marius just yet. Should he? "You," he whispered and took a hold of the feral. "Get everyone like you out of here, the Order is here on business. If you do, maybe I'll even let the body remain here for you creatures to devour." It nodded and squirmed in his grip, running off as soon as he let go. That should take care of that, at least to some degree. Marius continued threw the dark tunnels. The shadows roamed freely underground, the light couldn't devour it. Marius himself was carrying a torch, to ward it off. The comforting pale light of the moon was nowhere to be insight, so the entire area was cloaked in darkness. Marius walked threw various rooms, looking for the person he half-hardheartedly hunted, he didn't know where Samuel was hiding. Samuel went up the last set of stairs to reach his destination; an overview of the room where it would end. There was only one entrance, so he knew where Marius would come from. Behind him, at the top of the stairs, there was a ladder that led to a house whose cellar had been destroyed some time ago and was yet to be repaired. Unless Marius went back out of the sewers and started to do some major construction work, he'd be forced to come in the way he intended him to. Knowing what was to come, Samuel drew his blade. Even that would give him an edge, due to the dark metal. Marius' only light was his torch, which was no substitute for his own nightly eyes. He drew one of his 4 daggers as well, while he waited for the former general. Marius stumbled upon another room, He entered it. He looked around his surroundings, even with the torch the area was cloaked in darkness. Marius heard the cluttering of metal behind him before he felt the pain in his upper left arm. An orb of light appeared on top of what turned out to be a flight of stairs; Samuel was waiting on top, sword and dagger in hand. Before Marius could do anything more, another dagger left a cut this one deeper, in his arm. "You shouldn't have come here." Marius face filled with visible pain, but the only thing that came out his mouth was a quiet groan of hurt, Marius, without any time to waste, drew a night's eye potion from his satchel, and gulped it down. He could perfectly see in the darkness now, with only minimal groans, Marius said, "Did you really think I wouldn't come?" "No, but I had hoped you wouldn't. The only reason I want you dead is because you're a liability. Had you had the wits to leave well enough alone, it would never come to this." Samuel started to walk down the stairs. He had 2 more daggers, should he need them. Come on, you old fool. Turn back. Leave. Better for everyone that way. "I may be an old fool. But I keep my word, I promised I would hunt you down to the ends of the world, I'm here" Marius drew his two imperial Gladius, and went into a fighting stance. He said, in a voice devoid of emotion, "So how old are you really 'Samuel'? How old can a Vampire be?" Samuel quickly drew the second last dagger he had and threw it at Marius' left hand. A cut was left across his fingers, forcing him to drop the blade. Samuel was in no mood to deal with someone wielding two blades tonight. As soon as this happened, he jumped down the last stairs and took a few steps away from the general. "So you figured it out. Bravo. I'm old enough, that is all you need to know right now." "Old enough?" Despite losing his first blade, and the wounds, Marius made the first move. He slashed at Samuel's right side, with speed and force uncharacteristic of a man of his age, "By your demeanor, appearance, and ability to walk plainly in the day, I would assume your a member of the order, from all those tales I heard when I was growing up." Samuel's blade met Marius', just before Samuel stepped aside. Following the parry, Marius would most likely try to get in a few more slashes or stabs. "Does it matter? It will not do you any good to know what Blood I am off, before the end." "It doesn't matter. I'll die today, that's the only thing that counts." Marius received a cut to the rip, before backing away, and trying to bring down his blade to Samuel's right side. Samuel parried him once more, seemingly without having to put a lot of effort to it. "You know, it is usually a lot more effective to not attack in the direction where I can respond the quickest." As Marius moved in, Samuel curled his hand into a fist, using the time between parrying the attack and Marius once again being able to git in a slash to plant it solidly in the general's right cheek. The hit was a lot harder than one would expect just by looking at Samuel. The fist landed straight into Marius's right cheek, throwing him to the ground. It dazed Marius for a few seconds. But he was back up again in a instant, blade drawn. Marius Imperius wouldn't let scum stand above him, he wouldn't. His wounds and cuts were oozing blood, and his sword arm was shaking steadily, he coughed out a large mouthful of blood. "It's comforting facing death like this. It's all in the moment, the individual fight. Kill or be killed. It's so exhilarating." Marius put his arm to his bleeding side, and snarled, before charging onward to his foe, Samuel jumped out of Marius' way as he came in. This was almost too easy. Marius' reflexes were sluggish, probably from drinking, and his wounds would make him weaker by the minute. Even if he just avoided him, Marius would be defeated in a short time. But that was not what was going to happen. "You almost sound like a Nord," Samuel said as he made his own move, sword aimed for Marius' leg. Marius side stepped away from the blade, before slashing at Samuel's left arm, quickly. The blade left a cut in his arm. Stupid move; Marius had sacrificed defense for a meaningless attack. Instead of getting out of his reach, he had left himself open for a stab to the torso. Samuel didn't hesitate to take the opportunity. The blade pierced the bottom right of Marius's stomach area, which caued him to yelp in pain. Marius, took a few steps back as he parried Samuels blow's, before using the pommel of his sword in an attempt to get some breathing room. "You've lost Marius; stand down. You don't need to die here," Samuel jumped back away from the general to get out of the reach of his weapon. "If you leave now, you can live out your life without having to worry about me. Marius just stood there, grasping his new wound with his injured hand. He was breathing heavily, "I will not yield, to kiss the ground on your feet monster. Lay on Samuel, and by Stendar, hold enough!!!". And with that Marius went into the fray once again. The last dagger soared through the air, headed right for Marius' chest. While Marius had been talking, Samuel had spent his time better. "You've been given a chance to get out. And you've refused to take it. Why? You have nothing to gain by staying here." "I have everything to gain by staying here..." The dagger went soaring towards Marius, and though he side step, the dagger hit him on his left breast, causing him to fall onto his knee's. He ripped the dagger out, threw it to the ground. Before standing up once again, sword drawn. As Marius stood up, Samuel moved in and slashed out at his hand. This time Marius moved quickly, and despite his injuries, managed to to avoid his other sword hand getting mangled, avoiding the slash, Marius slammed the pommel of his Gladius into Samuel's face. Taking a few steps back, Samuel let out a small groin of pain, but didn't lose his balance. "Still has a little fight in you I see. No matter, I've already won this fight." "I know." And with that, Marius pressed the attack, slashing at Samuel's chest area, Samuel's ebony blade found itself between Marius' gladius and his chest, held with both hands. Immediately after, he launched a kick towards the generals' kneecap. With a loud "snap" Marius screamed out, as hisknee cap broke, bringing him down. Marius, using his remaining leg, pushed backwards throwing himself away from the vampire Samuel walked over, lashing out at Marius' sword as he did. It clattered away, landing out of his reach. "You shouldn't have thrown away the dagger from your chest. It would have been your only chance at this point." "**** off..." Marius stood up, despite the pain coming from his broken knee cap, he brought his bloodied fists into a fighting stance He raised an eyebrow as the general got back to his feet. A quick move with his hand and fingers hit the floor. "You have excellent spirits, General. You would have made a terrific student." Marius eye's narrowed, "I would have never lowered myself to work under someone like you, Samuel." "Do you sometimes get the feeling that you're the only one who comprehends simple grammar? I know I do. I didn't mean to say you'd make a terrific employee, just that you have the drive that would make you an excellent candidate to pass on some of my sword techniques to." Marius slowly stumbled towards Samuel, before weakly throwing a bunch at his left arm. Samuel took a hold of his neck before he drove his blade through his stomach. He whispered: "For all it is worth, Marius, you have earned my respect." With a last quick motion, Samuel pushed Marius back As Samuel's blade left Marius, he fell to the ground. Even after sustaining so many injuries Marius Imperius still struggled, he somehow managed to drag his body into a corner and plop himself up against it. "Awww...shit...I really wanted to win..." Muttered Marius, with a dark grin forming on his lips. "So have lots of people. We can't always get what we want. Cigar?" Samuel held out a cigar he had stolen from Lorgar's office when he was there. "I think Lorgar had it imported from Black Marsh." Marius ignored Samuel's offer, and instead sluggishly reached into his pocket with his bloodied hand, took out a cigarette, and put it in his mouth. It took effort, but Marius managed to light it with a match. As Marius smoked his last cigarette, his entire life flashed before his eyes. Most of the images were bad memories, some very bad memories. The memory he previously thought brightest to him, his night with Samuel, flared in his memory, along with another. Marius's twisted grin, switched into the most genuine smile he's had in decades and while the smile was in the direction of Samuel it wasn't for him. The thing that comforted Marius so much in his darkest hour was a simple image, of three young men. The first man was a black haired imperial, who was devilishly handsome with a grin on his face. The second man was a massive Nord, with snow-white hair, and although he looked like he could rip apart a bear, he had a kind look about him. The final and third man, was brown haired, and had strict military composure. In the image the first man had a cigarette is his mouth, and was doing some sort of peace sign, while the massive nord hugged him from behind with an idiotic smile. The third man, while looking very formal and officer-like, had a slight smile on his face, and his brown eyes sparkled with youth. This, simple image with nothing glorious, pleasure filled, or important was the thing that Marius treasured most deep down, it took decades to figure this out. These two men, his comrades…no his friends, were the most precious things to him. In Marius's final moments, he visually saw himself like how he was in his prime, raven-haired, sharp violet eyed, youthful and devilishly handsome. Marius muttered weakly, "Goodbye Lorgar...Goodbye Gaius.” The cigarette fell from Marius's mouth, and his eyes closed, Marius no longer saw anything, or heard, or smelled, or tasted anything ever again. Marius's face was now completely pale, a far cry from his normally healthy skin. His smile remained on his deathly face, however. For a time, Samuel sat in the staircase, smoking the cigar he had offered Marius and looking down at the body. The blood had formed a puddle around him. A painful end, but that was the price to be allowed to chose ones own thoughts before the end. Had he killed Marius in the heat of battle... It didn't matter. Marius was dead. Needlessly. Samuel shook his head. Looking back, he could see more than one solution to the problem Marius had posed without killing him. HIndsight was always 20/20, even for him. The sound of something nearing the entrance to the room caught his attention. It was time to leave. "Out of my way, feral," as he passed through the door he pushed aside what he believed to be the same creature he had encountered before. It didn't even try to do anything back; it knew better than to antagonize the Order. *** “So then, I said HE’S GOT A KNIFE!” Lorgar voice trailed off, and he suddenly felt sad. He was in the Moonlight restraunt with his date, the countess of Chorrol. Minutes ago, they were drinking glasses of wine and chatting about everything. She said, in her usual quiet voice, “Lorgar is everything alright?” A single tear dropped from Lorgar left eye, and the feeling of Anguish filled within him. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” *** Tullius was naked, beside a whore in bed. He had a very fun night. But he was feeling...sad for some reason. Sad? I never feel sad!!! I’m fucking General Tullius!!! Somehow, and for some reason, a single tear fell from his eye, along with the feeling of utter depression and mechaloncy.

Baldur and Rebec Markarth, Silver-Blood Inn morning True to his word, Baldur had made her feel better after the harrowing experience of the night before. Rebec hoped that she had taken his mind off what they were about to do, too. She could tell that as they got closer to Markarth, he was more and more nervous about seeing his mother. The main thing that Rebec was concerned about was not having the encounter go about like her meeting with one of Baldur's old girlfriends had. If this Dibellan was cruel or sassed too much, there was no guarantee, even if they were in a temple. That was also something to think about. The Dibella temple in Markarth had a reputation. Skyrim's Dibellans had always been more blatantly erotic than the more genteel versions in Cyrodiil, from what Rebec had heard. The Nords weren't shy about sex and they didn't try to sugarcoat the goddess' role. It was one thing to know your mother had abandoned you, and something else to know she'd abandoned you to be some glorified whore. Also, temples and the like made Rebec's nose itch. Things hadn't gone so well when she'd met the priestess of Kynareth in Whiterun, for instance. For Baldur's sake, she was going to have to try to look pious, and that was a tall order. Rebec let Baldur sleep in as she got some hot water- thankfully not from Hroki- and washed her hair. She then started putting on her leathers. As she did so, she started picturing how she'd look to the Dibellan. She had battle scars, some tattoos on her arms and hands, and didn't have a decent set of town clothes to her name. After thinking about it a bit, Rebec decided it was just too bad what the priestess thought of her. The old hag had given up any say over Baldur's life long ago. When she was dressed, Rebec went to sit on the edge of the bed. She looked at Baldur, who had one arm thrown over his face and the other one still stretched out where he'd been holding her. It was strange, and scary, how fond you could be of a man. To have one person be so necessary to your own life. It was nice, though, at the same time. They both had hard, harrowing work to do in Markarth, but neither of them had to do it alone. "Baldur," she said, touching his arm. "It's time to wake up." "Mmm, is it morning already? Can't we just go back to bed for a while?" Baldur knew full well what time it was and he wasn't as tired as he put out to be. He was more nervous at this point than he was at the beginning of the battle in Pale Pass. It took him weeks before in Markarth just to finally decide that he could not go through with the meeting before those few years ago. Now he'd finally be facing a house of emotions that he likely would not understand. Anger was one. He could try latching on to one and run with it. That would make things easier. "I already got my armor on and I'm not undoing all those straps again." They'd learned to make it work with bits of armor on, too, but that wasn't the point. She knew he was stalling. "It can't be any worse than fighting the Thalmor, can it? She's just some old priestess. Doesn't have to get to you unless you let her." Rebec stopped short of calling the Dibellan "just some old washed-up whore," even though that was what she wanted to say. Standing, she went to the table and started nibbling on the bits of leftover cheese and bread there. "I'll tell you what I think. She doesn't deserve a son like you. Just by going to see her we're giving her more due than she has a right to. But that's because you're a better person than both your parents, Baldur." Baldur was already getting a taste of those dual emotions from her comment. He hated both his parents but somehow a part of him actually wanted to defend his mother. But how could he possibly do that? What could there possibly be to say in her defense? Not a damn thing. "Fighting Thalmor is a leisure activity as far as I'm concerned, but you're right. She's not even my mother. She's just the hole I crawled through to get here." said Baldur coldly as he arose from the stone bed's sheets. Feeling a pit in his stomach from the words he just spoke, Baldur averted his eyes from Rebec as he went to put on his Nordic Carved armor. He meant to put on his normal Officer gear, but a part of him wanted to wear the good armor. Why? To impress her? No, to show her. That in spite of her I made it and didn't need her. Yes, that's the reason. Baldur thought on Rebec's comment about fighting Thalmor as he placed the armor over his chest and back and thought back to his scars. In a way she really was worse than them. They scared him physically. Ysana Home-Wrecker did so mentally. You don't get over those so easily. Rebec watched him out of the corner of her eye. She had never gotten used to those scars, either, but she was proud of them. The Dibellan probably didn't even know that her son had saved them all from Thalmor invasion. That guard captain had talked about how far Markarth was from Solitude, but as Ulfric found out, it wasn't far enough when it came to the Thalmor interfering. Trying to lighten the mood, she said, "Did you hear that meat vendor on the square? Bloodiest beef in the Reach. What sort of advertisement is that? He was giving Mazoga the eye was we passed, like she was a nice juicy steak." "Hm, maybe he's into her. For an orc she's not that bad, hehe. Maybe she should pursue it. Although that man gives me the creeps. This whole place does really. Can't wait to leave this place. It's a shame Ulfric is so reliant on these Silver-Bloods. I was gonna carry out my threat to Thongvor about turning this place inside out in my anger, but Thongvor made it very clear that our favorite Captain acted on his own. Sadly the Silver-Bloods support Ulfric strongly and their support is based off the corruption in this city. In other words unless they somehow piss Ulfric off, I really can't do anything about the state of this place. But I can at least take care of one corrupt guard Captain before we go." Baldur swung his cape over his head and attached it over his shoulder under his fur collar. The magic of the enchantment flashed briefly before fading away, signifying it was active on him. Baldur twirled his axes briefly before holstering them, then sat back on the bed once more. "I wish you'd let it go. It's not our fight, and these kind of men, they're always just the tip of the iceberg. Unless you want to stay here for a decade or three. The Reach isn't going to be fixed in a day, not even by Baldur Red-Snow." With that she approached and gave him a little teasing smile, running her hand over the Nordic breastplate. "We'd better get going. The sight of you in that armor makes me want to take it off again after all." Baldur contemplated trying to seduce her one last time before they left, but thought better of it. He kept stalling like this and he'd never go through with it in the end. "I'll have to show you a little trick I learned from a book I once read called "Hallgerd's Tale". But that will have to wait I suppose." Baldur stood up smiling at the memory of the book and planted a kiss on Rebec's forehead and lips before taking her hands in his. "We'll discuss the guard Captain later. I gave him a promise that he'd be seeing me again and I intend to keep it. But lets forget about it for now. Thank you for finally bringing me to do this Rebec. I told you you make me stronger. I couldn't do it without you." "You just needed a little push, that's all." She hugged him once more, saying quietly in his ear, "And I'm proud to be with you. These other women who let you go, they're horker-brained fools." Smiling, Rebec pulled on his hand and led him out through the tavern. The innkeeper gave them a scowling look, but he seemed to always wear one, even before she broke his table, so Rebec gave it right back to him. Out on the street, they got more than one stare as they passed. Some were hostile, some were nervous, though one woman who had kin in Whiterun hold came up to thank them for keeping the Thalmor from getting that far. "I guess word got around about us being here." Rebec paused and squinted up at the high Dwemer towers that caught the morning sunlight. "I know why everything's all turned inside out and wrong here. This isn't a real Nord city." "Good point. Perhaps the Dwemer spirit still lurks in this place. They were a very corrupt people." Baldur looked up as well and wondered what the place looked like back in it's glory days. The books he once read painted stories of unimaginably amazing marvels of technology and architecture, but he had a hard time picturing them. He started getting vague senses of familiarity with the steps that lead the two up so high above the city. The view was really something else. He could see the whole of Markarth's architecture and distant waterfalls from a ledge that they were on, which made him have to pause for a second to take it all in. "You know, I never did get a chance to see how beautiful this place is, even though its a bit rough." Baldur broke out of his minor trance when he turned and saw all the workers below slaving away for such scant amounts of coin. "Beautiful, I guess. Maybe cursed." His comment about Dwemer corruption had got Rebec thinking that the Mer might have left a curse on the place when they disappeared. Or the Forsworn, who were like elves with bad haircuts. She looked around suspiciously, saying, "It's no wonder this is where it all started. The rebellion, I mean. It must drive the Thalmor crazy to see a Talos temple here in an 'elven' city. That means Nords have always got to hold this place, and the Reach with it. It's a symbol." "Not sure how I feel about the symbol of our liberation being the most corrupt city in Skyrim. Unless you count Riften anyway. I know what my father would say about it. Still, it's a nice **** you having a talos temple in a mer city to the Thalmor. Okay, the Dibella chapel is further along this balcony. Wonder what the place was used for before..."said Baldur, who had started to sweat at the thought of what he would find inside. His worst fear was that he'd walk in on some kind of orgy. That or she just was no longer there, although that'd be much better than the former. Rebec didn't really want to know what sort of devilry the Dwemer got up to. Good riddance to them. They stopped before the big golden doors, staring at them. Both of them were nervous, now that they were here. A woman walked past with a basket of fruit in her hands. "Are you here to bring an offering?" she asked them. The couple exchanged looks, and Rebec clutched the handle of her axe more tightly. It was the most valuable thing she owned now that her ship was gone, and no Dibellan was going to lay a painted fingernail on it. Not that they had much use. The lady, not getting any answer, muttered "hmph" and went on through the doors. Glancing in as the door cracked open, Rebec said, "It looks safe enough. I don't see any women with their teats flapping in the breeze." Baldur took a deep breath, then another, then one more for good measure before he finally pushed the doors open slightly, slowly making his way inside. He was breathing with greater frequency as his eyes darted around the room looking for anyone who could possibly be his mother. All that was inside however was the woman who just walked in and another young breton hooded woman with blue paint coming from the inner corners of her eyes praying at a circular stoned altar with a pool of water in it with a set of stone steps leading up to it. Baldur grew a bit sick looking at all the Dibella statues with their breasts exposed, picturing the blurry blob that was his memory of his mother's face on them. Baldur cleared his throat to get the woman's attention. "Excuse me, can we have a word?" The woman looked up revealing her beautiful face to the two as she smiled mischievously before wandering over. "Yes, what is it handsome? We don't get many visitors anymore, let alone a couple." Rebec glared at the Breton woman, reconsidering the notion that no Dibellan was going to see her axe. If she kept leering at Baldur that way, she might be introduced. "We're here to see that Home-Wrecker woman. I guess that fits the lot of you, but we want Ysana. Is she here?" The Breton woman gave Rebec a look of confusion as she tilted her head. "How is it that you know one of my teachers by name? And by a name she hasn't been called in quite some time. Before your birth I'd imagine." "Just tell her that two people wish to speak with her specifically. Don't tell her what we look like and don't say we called her Home-Wrecker. Just tell her she is needed here." said Baldur. "I don-" "Please! Just do as I say and we'll be on our way!" Baldur didn't mean to shout but it was hard for him to control his emotions. He couldn't hide his anger and his body had begun to tremble. Even in battle Baldur didn't have this much trouble staying calm. The priestess not looking for trouble finally decided to do as she was told to the letter. Baldur's eyes showed her it was best to just comply. "Okay, Reb. Finally we can get this over with." Rebec put an arm around Baldur's back and waited, trying not to show her own nervousness since she could see her big warrior husband looked fit to vomit. "If it goes bad, we'll just leave," she whispered, trying to say something encouraging. "No regrets and no worse off than when we came." Baldur waited staring at the doorway that the Breton woman had went through for what seemed like an age until Baldur thought that the woman had ignored them. Just when Baldur was about to lose his cool and try breaking down the doors, the door creaked open slowly as a frail figure finally stepped through. Whoever it was, it wasn't the breton. She was taller, wearing the same orange and yellow priest robes that all of the priests wore, but her face was hooded. Brown hair like Rebec's stuck out through the hood from the bottom and was all Baldur could see from a distance until she came closer. As she did, Baldur's heart started beating faster and faster with each step that she took towards them. Once she stood before them, she removed her hood and revealed a rather youthful face for one almost sixty. She had kind blue eyes and light facial features not yet pulled down by the weight of time. Her hair was slightly wavy and curled, and all around she looked every bit like the mother Baldur had imagined he had, but she did not look at all familiar to him. He always imagined he would recognize her immediately but that wasn't the case. He hoped that this truly was Ysana. Her eyes focused on Baldur's and seemed to stare into his soul. Like she could tell what he was thinking without even saying it. Is this what mothers are like? Can she tell what I am thinking? Does she know who I am? The woman's eyes were filled with confusion and sorrow all at once from the sight before her. She couldn't believe what it was she saw because what she saw was impossible. Weakly she spoke up and asked, "Ulrin? U-Ulrin Red-Snow?" Baldur closed his eyes in disappointment. He had hoped she would be able to tell who he was and he grew angry again when she called him by his father's name. "Guess again." said Baldur, coldy. Her eyes widened and filled with tears as she breathed in and said his name in a low whisper. "Baldur!" Tears fell from her eyes freely now and she tried to reach for her son to hug him, but Baldur backed away from her before she could, his face hard and cruelly fierce. "Don't." The woman who came through the door was a lot kinder and more normal looking than Rebec had expected. If they'd met under different circumstances, Rebec would have said she looked like a good person. Neither had she expected Ysana to sound so broken and sad, once she realized that it was her son in front of her. But maybe that just came from shame. Rebec got angry again when she realized that the Dibellan might think a few tears could erase all of the harm she'd done. Tone hard, she answered, "Yes, Red-Snow's our name. He's Baldur and I'm Rebec, his wife." She could have said a lot more than that, but kept quiet to let Baldur say his own piece. Ysana had a hard time keeping her composure and more tears flowed when Rebec said she was his wife. "Oh how I've missed so much of your life. Already a grown man with a wife! You have no idea what it is like to see your little baby one day then a whole entire man the next! You two don't exactly seem happy to see me. Why is it that you have come?" "We need to talk. We came here to Markarth to put some things in our past behind us. You, you're one of them." said Baldur. "I-I see. Well, wait here please. I will have the girls set up a table for us. Would you like some Jazbay wine? Cyrodiilic Brandy?" asked Ysana. "Mead." Ysana frowned a bit at the reply but nodded her head anyway. "Any particular kind?" "Black-Briar with Juniper Berries." said Baldur, still firm faced. Ysana walked off to prepare a table for the group and left the couple waiting for the preparations to be made. Baldur looked to Rebec wondering what she was thinking. Rebec shrugged, not knowing what to say. "She's... pretty. I suppose we could've guessed that much. Did she expect you to be happy to see her?" "Beats me. How could I possibly be when she left me for this? What is she thinking?" asked Baldur. "Some women just aren't made for motherhood," Rebec replied, then her eyes lowered. That could apply to her, too, for different reasons. She put that from her mind and forced a smile. "At least we'll get some good mead out of it. Hope they don't spike it with love potion." Hmph, maybe that's how father fell into all of this. thought Baldur. **** Five Dibella women came out with an assortment of things such as fine silver bowls and forks. In the middle of the large oak table lay a bowl full of different fruits, mostly grapes. Around it lay numerous sweets like tarts and sweetrolls. Baldur sat and immediately poured Rebec a tankard of the mead, then he poured some for himself, not asking if Ysana wanted any. She shrugged and had one of the women bring her some wine as Baldur started to pick at the grapes, never keeping his glare off of Ysana. Ysana waited for a while in awkward silence before she finally decided to break it. "So, before we go any further, what is it that you two do?" Rebec didn't have much of an appetite, but she took a long drink of mead and wiped her mouth with her hand. Putting the tankard down, she answered Ysana, "Lately we save Skyrim from elves and bastard imperials. It's General and Admiral Red-Snow, if you want our titles. Before that, I was a ship captain and privateer, and Baldur was a mercenary and a Stormcloak soldier." Giving the woman a hard look, she said, "I guess you don't concern yourself much with the country's affairs, if you haven't heard about Baldur already." Ysana had a surprised look on her face showing she was clearly impressed by the two. "Wow, such important titles you have! I guess I shouldn't be surprised from your appearance. And that armor. As crude and harsh as warriors can be, that is truly a thing of beauty. Take it from a priest of Dibella." "Dibella can stuff it. What exactly is so great about living a life on your back that you couldn't take care of your son?" asked Baldur angrily. It was Ysana's turn to raise her voice now. "Don't you come in here blaspheming and judging me when you know so little about me! Just like your father." "I know that you left your only son with his father so you could live the life of a whore! That is all I need to know." Baldur's words had cut deep. Ysana was quiet for a few seconds before she proceeded. "So, you think I'm just some whore. A whore who left her son? You have no idea what you're talking about, Baldur. About me or what it is that I do. Or did." "Well then, enlighten me." Ysana breathed in and closed her eyes before she began. "It seems your father didn't tell you much about me beyond my title or what happened. He said I left you?" "Didn't you? To stay here and be a Dibella priestess?" "You say that with such disgust, Baldur. Let me explain. This lifestyle is not what everyone believes. Yes there's sex, moreso than our Cyrodiilic counterparts. But that is not everything. We worship beauty, art, pleasure. The good things in life. It's a glamarous lifestyle. One that I've always wanted ever since I was a girl. What we do is we spread our teachings to others. We make them feel good and show them how to enjoy life." "Sounds like an excuse to me." said Baldur dismissively. "You are just like your father! Is my lifestyle really so wrong? You married someone who has a life at sea, they have a reputation for being...not so virtuous." Baldur tilted his head downward and spoke in a low angry growl as his expression grew darker. "You...leave...my...wife out of this! Don't you dare compare her to you!" "Why? Are we really that different? I mean really? Rebec, how many men have you been with?" "I said leave her out of it! Rebec, you don't need to answer that." said Baldur. "I am just trying to prove a point. You wish to understand the situation and this will help." Rebec was looking from one to the other during this exchange, and she really, really did want to be left out of it, especially about the men she'd slept with. "I've rolled a few," she answered finally, tone angry. "I didn't advertise like you lot do." Ysana smiled at the response and nodded, acknowledging the truth of her words. Still focused on Rebec as she began speaking, still talking to both of them, "Baldur's father when he first met me here fell in love with me after one of our nights. I fell in love with him as well. He at first to me was just simply a crude warrior who knew nothing of beauty or life. How could he? His job was to take it. But when he met me...something sparked in him. He kept returning each and every day. One day he came in and started singing these songs about me. They were so beautiful. As a priest of Dibella, I was amazed. He was an artist in his own right. Soon I stopped taking other students and snuck out of the temple to be with him. He looked a lot like my Baldur here does now, except with cropped hair and legionnaire armor. We got to know each other better and he started to grow to appreciate my lifestyle. I made him happy and he made me happy. It wasn't too long before I started growing with child. We were together for a while and things were good or so I thought. Once I had Baldur, it was time that I go back to being a priestess. I promised Ulrin that I would no longer lay with men but I'd still be a priestess and I'd be his wife. He was fine with that at first, but then he started going around the city on his own he started staying at taverns more. Before too much longer he heard my name. "Ysana Home-Wrecker." The men could be heard talking about me and their nights with me according to him and he got into more than a few fights. It was about three years of this before he approached me and told me that he and I needed to leave with Baldur. I didn't want to go, being a Dibella priestess was all I ever wished to be. I asked him if he couldn't just let the past stay in the past. Do you know what he did? He left. He called me a whore just like Baldur had done, took Baldur and ran to gods know where. That was the last I ever saw of him. He abandoned me. Because of his pride." Baldur listened to all of this, took it in, waited and digested the new information. It wasn't quite what he expected to hear. Especially the part about singing. That really got to him. "He always told me that he started singing after you left us. To ease his pain. I too took up singing. I sing to Rebec all the time." said Baldur. Ysana started tearing up and smiled, grabbing at Baldur's hand. Baldur looked down at them, not sure what to think. He was still angry, but at who, he didn't know. His father for sure. The man lied to him about his past, but it still wasn't all his fault. But this new information made him more and more glad that he was dead. "So father stole me away without a word? Why the hell didn't you just leave? Can't you understand what it's like to hear things like that from people about someone you love?" "Baldur, you're right. But that was how my life was! I already gave up the primary part of my life for him and all he had to do was love me and swallow his pride. I didn't understand it, I was young and stupid. We both were. If he'd just explain that it hurt him so bad instead of calling me a whore, I would have gone gladly! I loved him and I still do!" tears started rolling down Ysana's face anew as she said this. Baldur felt a lump in his throat when she spoke of him in the present time. "He started asking me questions about who I'd been with and how many and when I told him, he couldn't handle it. He grew paranoid and kept asking who I slept with, how many times. I asked him to leave it in the past and he could not. Do you love your wife? "Yes, I love her." Then what would you have done? Hm? Would you have let your pride get in the way? Or would you have loved your wife regardless? Expressed your feelings and not jump to judgement? Men are so quick to judge females but when it's the other way around..." Baldur had thought about her questioning and it scared him how much he was like his dad. He did always wonder what he would do if the time ever came and he met one of Rebec's partners. He always had the thought in the back of his head questioning how many. If Baldur met one of her mates like she did his, he was afraid he would react in a similar way. It was best that they get the air cleared now before he let his pride get in the way later. "Mother, can you give us some time alone?" Ysana smiled at him and slowly got up out of her chair and went to the back of room out of ear shot while looking back at the two. Baldur looked to Rebec now and held her hands in his. "Rebec, lets just get this out of the way, okay? It will make things easier in the future. How many men have you been with?" Listening to Ysana, Rebec had been amazed, and it was uncomfortable how much her own story with Baldur sounded like the one the Dibellan was telling. As Baldur began to question her, she turned from nervous to afraid. Whatever Baldur might have said about his devotion to her, his parents' story was proof that sometimes base emotions could overrule the higher ones. And the fact was, she didn't know the answer to his question. Feeling under scrutiny, she tried to think back, but there were too many lonely nights in too many ports, with too many of them shrouded by drink. A time or two she had woken up with several men and women draped over a bed, and Rebec with no idea who had been with whom. That was in her wilder, younger years, when the drink was heavy. As she wised up, she'd had less need and been more careful. Occasionally another ship captain, a merchant. Some were her friends, some were a bed when her ship was in for repairs and she didn't have enough coin for an inn on top of paying the shipyard and her payroll. "I didn't keep a ledger," she answered Baldur, voice hoarse. She watched him nervously, never having expected the conversation to turn to this. Baldur felt horrible that he had to hurt her this way, but his mother's story had shown him something in himself. He was very much like his father. This conversation needed to happen. If it didn't now, then it would later. "Rebec, don't be afraid. It's best we get this out of the way now before I meet some of your bed mates later and I let pride get in the way then. I don't think I would but, well. You heard how much me and Ulrin were alike. I don't want that to happen. Part of their problem was likely that Ulrin hadn't been with nearly as many partners as she had. He loved her but at the end of the day they were doomed from the beginning. You and I on the other hand have both had our fun and have gotten out of it. You don't have an exact number just give me an idea. Just try. I'll go first. I've been with something like twelve or fourteenish women. Some regulars, others just drunk affairs. You've actually met two of them already. One that girl in the Silver-Blood inn. The other...." Baldur breathed hard before pressing on with his response. "The other the red-head woman in Falkreath. The one you caught looking at me before." "I KNEW IT!" Rebec pointed triumphantly. Then she remembered that it was a serious conversation and her hand fell. Looking away, she struggled a long minute before she could go on. "Baldur, you know I was a drunk. Maybe I still am. I guess..." She began to count on her fingers and mutter. As she got to the end of her list, it was shorter than she'd first thought it would be. There were nine that she could remember, not counting Toki and Baldur. She'd been married, after all, and hadn't exactly been looking to cheat on her husband. She hadn't ever wanted someone more than Toki until Baldur came around. Giving herself some room for error, she answered hesitantly, "Thirteen? Fourteen including Toki, fifteen including you. Most of them were in my younger years." She looked across to him, still nervous that it would be too many. Baldur laughed slightly at her realization that she was right about that red-headed hussy. Then Baldur thought about her answer and gave a sigh and closed his eyes. He thought Rebec was trying to make him feel better by making the number so similar to his. "Rebec, I know what you're trying to do. My male pride isn't so easily bruised that I can't handle you having more partners than me. I figured that was likely the case long ago." "You think I'm lying?" She was getting angry again. "I know what you think of me. It was right in your journal, that I'm more like a man than a woman, that I'm not the kind of woman for marrying. Is that what's on your mind now?" Rebec had forgotten that Baldur had at first compared her to his mother. She hadn't realized it would be a mistake to come to the temple. "Well..." Baldur had started growing nervous now. He didn't want to insult her but he had asked her to be honest, so he would too to a certain point. There's honesty and then there's being too honest. Baldur started rubbing the back of his head nervously. "Well, honestly I thought there'd be more. I already told you that you being like a man personality wise is why I loved you. To be perfectly honest, now that I know the number...I really don't care." Baldur sat their bewildered and utterly confused. He used to spend so much time fighting with the question, wondering what he'd think if he found out but now that he knew, he felt nothing at all. Honestly...who in the hell cares? Why did I care so much? "Now that I think about it, you could have told me twenty men and I'm not all that sure I'd care. Maybe it's easy to say now that I know but...And you? You care about my number at all being like yours?" Rebec reached for his hand and clasped it. "It could be fifty and I wouldn't care. I'd be spitting jealous all the time, but I'd love and want you the same." Turning on the bench to face him, she went on, "Think about it this way. Toki was my first and I couldn't leave him, even when I should've done. Doesn't that say something? There were times, especially when I was younger, when I just wanted my sweetroll frosted, but most times I was just lonely without him. You wake up beside me every day, and I'll never have to think about it again." Baldur pulled his hand away laughing while slightly grimacing. "Ew, Rebec do you need to be so graphic? I know I said I didn't care about the number but damn, learn some subtlety! I'll never look at another sweetroll the same way again...." Baldur got up from his chair while still smiling and walked away a small distance. He looked to the door of the place with his back turned to Rebec while he rubbed his beard, thinking on what all of this meant and how it changed things. For one the nagging question was gone. He had already figured that he loved Rebec regardless but the question had always kept popping up. But that was out now and all that was left was his complete devotion to Rebec. Same as always. "Subtlety isn't my strong point, you should know that." Rebec grinned, but as her eyes followed Baldur, she was still worried. He was so different from Toki, and it made her relieved and crazy by turns. Glancing up at one of the statues of naked women, she pursed her lips and then stared into her tankard, waiting. She figured Baldur needed time to think. He'd just been thrown a lot. "Mother, come here." said Baldur. He finally got his answer. It wasn't as complex as he thought it would be. In fact, he had already known the answer. Ysana stood smiling, happy that her point had been made, or so she figured. She sat back down at the table looking at the bear insignia on Baldur's back. His presence was an inspiring one. She didn't know the details but she got the sense that her son was a hero. "So, what is your answer? What would you have done in your father's shoes?" Baldur turned around and walked back to the table. Looking to Rebec, Baldur grabbed her by her hands and stood her up from her chair. "When Rebec told me her number, I thought that I'd feel...something. Anything. Anger, sadness, jealousy, something. But I didn't feel anything. I wondered why that was but now I see it clear." Baldur put his hand over Rebec's groin gently before continuing. "It's not the connection here that matters. The one that matters..." Baldur moved his fingers over to where Rebec's heart would be, then afterwards he moved them to her temple, signifying her mind. "What matters is the connection here...and here. I know no other man has had those connections. As long as that remains true Rebec, not a damn thing else matters to me." Rebec jumped a little as he started to reach for her, thinking he was taking sweetrolls too literally, but when he explained, she smiled at him, and thought she might cry. His poet ways were odd sometimes, but they cut her deeply. Self-conscious in front of Ysana, she glanced at the woman and said, "I think we judged you too fast and based on the lies of a bitter man. For my part, I'm sorry. Baldur, if you want me to leave you two alone, I'll go and..." She glanced around, and suddenly was curious what was going on deeper in the temple. "No, I'd like you to stay, Rebec." said Baldur. Ysana started to tear up again. The two reminded her so much of Ulrin and herself that it was painful for her to watch. She was jealous. Baldur sat back down in his seat and continued on with the conversation. "As for you and pa...There was likely nothing you two can do. As similar as our stories are, the main difference is that you two met when you were young. Rebec and I met both when we were older and more experienced, but also while doing similar professions. Not to mention I didn't have to deal with hearing people's comments. If I were pa, I'd have explained how I felt, but I am not pa and I can't say for sure. You two were just victims of a bad circumstance. And now...now I don't know who to be angry at anymore. Pa yes for taking me away and lying, but I can partly see why he did it. Can you really blame him, mother?" Ysana looked down at her cup of wine and started swishing it around the cup in her hands. Her son was smart. Just like her. "Baldur, your insight is something else. You are right. I can't completely. Both of us had a part to play in it. After he left, I was so distraught, that I broke my promise and fell back into my old ways, feeling the sorrow of losing both my love and my child. Sorrow really doesn't even cut it. After a year or so I realized I couldn't hide the pain from that. I stopped that sort of practicing and hadn't made love to a man since. I was waiting all this time for either you or your father to come by so I could get him to come back and make things up." Baldur frozed up as chills began going down his spine and legs. He could not believe what he had just heard. "A-Are you serious? I came to Markarth a few years ago just before the Stormcloaks started appearing. Do you mean to tell me that..." Baldur couldn't finish his sentence. For the first time since the civil war, Baldur finally started feeling the weight of what he had done. The image of his father's bloody pulverized face being smashed with a legionnaire sword pommel he had used undercover came rushing back to him. And the image wouldn't cease. "You came here then? Yes, I was waiting for him all this time. When we first had you he had plans to leave the legion. He was going to give up being a legionnaire to stay with me. I was waiting for him to come back so that we could both retire. I still am. Where is he?" Baldur's vision started growing blurry before him. He couldn't help it. He felt immensely guilty for his father's death for the first time ever. If he had just gone up to that temple before instead of drinking and screwing that girl, his father may very well be alive today and he and his mother would be together. Happy. "Baldur, where's Ulrin?" Ysana's face was grim. She suspected the worst, but her worst wasn't as bad as the truth. Rebec's face went white and she grabbed Baldur's hand and held it tight. Sensing that he wouldn't be able to get the words out, she made herself do so. They had to tell her the truth. "Ulrin's dead, Ysana. I'm sorry." She paused to let the woman absorb the news, glancing at Baldur as she did so. This was harder than if she'd done the deed herself. Finally she pushed on. "Baldur killed him. It was during the war, when they were on opposite sides. Baldur was sent on a secret mission to kill the commander of a fort and didn't know til he got there that that man was his father. Ulrin taunted him anyway, and they fought, and..." The rest was obvious. Baldur half heard the words and the story sounded so strange coming from Rebec. Like it was just a tale he had read from some old book. But it wasn't a tale. It was his life. He had killed his father and effectively ruined his mother's last chance to make things up with the love of her life. All those years of waiting for nothing. Ysana started breathing very heavily and at first she thought that she'd have a heart attack. At this point she had cried so much that her eyes felt fuzzy and tears no longer came. She stood from her bench and knocked the fruit bowl from it in a blind fury then worked her way to one of the Dibella statues. Suddenly she didn't care so much about beauty art and pleasure anymore. The love of her life was gone. As she lay on the floor screaming, Baldur imagined how he'd feel if Rebec died, or if he died how she'd feel. The thought of that and the sight of his mother on top of the fact that he had brought this along made him lose some of his stomach contents on the floor to the left of him. His mother stood there on the floor crying like a newborn baby for a while before Baldur got up to walk out of the temple. "Rebec, let’s go." "No! Wait! I'm sorry, I-" Baldur turned to his mother, wondering why in the world she'd possibly be sorry. Ysana stood up and ran toward him and hugged him for the first time in thirty six years. Baldur couldn't help himself when he finally cried. The power of a mother's touch was something that he could not overcome. "I didn't wait thirty six years for one of you to show up just to turn you away boy! This wasn't your fault. I may have lost Ulrin but I still have my baby boy. For that, the wait was worth it." Baldur had no words. He felt so unbelievably guilty for what he'd done and to have his mother come and embrace him so strongly and lovingly perplexed him to no end. She didn't even ask why he joined the Stormcloaks instead of the Legion. She didn't care why. So this is what unconditional love feels like. "I'm retiring anyway, now that I've met you and I know the truth. I want to be around and in your life to see all yor little babies running around." said Ysana. "Woah, woah mother!" Baldur started getting embarrassed in front of Rebec from the tears on top of the mention of children. "We haven't talked about that yet." "Well you should, damnit! Haven't you learned anything from all this yet?" said Ysana. "You're right, you're right. Thanks mother. That talk we had together really helped a lot." Ysana pulled away from her warrior son for a while and smiled with new tears in her eyes. Suddenly she sent a furious backhand and front hand slap to Baldur's cheeks, leaving them bright red. "Gah, what in Molag's Balls was that for?!!?" "That was for calling your mother a whore." Ysana said while laughing. "I'd have done it earlier but the way your warrior wife was looking at me made that seem like a bad idea. Rebec, will you not come and give your mother in law a hug?" Helplessly Rebec had watched Ysana grieving, and she knew that other people probably did something except gape when somebody was that broken, but damned if she could think what it was supposed to be. By the time Ysana was embracing Baldur, the tears that had stuck in her throat earlier were starting to form. Still, she felt like a sore thumb, and hesitated when Ysana beckoned to her. Here we all are with our guts on the floor. That image reminded her of the war, and how she hadn't hesitated to hug Boldir and Suri after their victory. Win or lose, they would have held tight to each other, and that was all she needed to do for Baldur and his mother, too. Stepping forward, she leaned out and Ysana came to her. The two women embraced for a long time, and Rebec was stunned at the love and acceptance she could feel in her mother-in-law. If she had pictured anything coming out of the meeting with the Dibellan, that was the last thing. Releasing her, Rebec even felt ashamed that she'd said so many things about "the Dibellan" which had been so off the mark. "We'll be your family, anyway," she said lamely, and looked at Baldur. He was the bard, but he seemed at a loss for words, too. Ysana had her hands on Rebec's shoulders still and she seemed to be sizing her up. "Oh even with this armor on and these scars you are still so beautiful! You have much potential. Here, standup straight, chin up. Hmm, nice, nice. You and I should have a girls day sometime! Just you and me, eh? What do you say? By the end of the day I promise you'll feel like a new woman. Then you get to see a little of what we're all about beyond just sex. Although I imagine there'll be lots of that once Baldur sees you when we're done." "Mother, come on!" proclaimed Baldur clearly embarrassed. "Oh hush, aren't you a nord? I'm a priest of Dibella for crying out loud, silly!" Ysana reached out and pinched Baldur's cheeks fiercely and playfully as she said this, making Baldur laugh and cry out in pain at the same time. A girl's day? Rebec had no idea what that even was. She looked at Baldur helplessly, but then Ysana was pinching his cheeks and making him do his shy thing, and that made her smile, too. "We were going to leave Markarth soon, and we've got some things to do out in the countryside, but maybe we can stay a little longer..." They had both been eager to get out, but this was worth extending their stay a little. "Wait, what am I supposed to do during this "girls day"?" said Baldur. "Oh I don't know, go hunting or something. Drinking, whatever. It would be an absolute disgrace if me and Rebec don't spend some time alone for a while! When we're done with her, she's gonna feel so relaxed and look so beautiful...You must stay one extra day before you leave! Then you can tell me all about yourself and my son and what I've missed out on all these years. By the way, what was the number? Baldur's too, if you don't mind me asking?" This again. Rebec shifted on her feet. "We both came in under twenty, I guess," she mumbled. Then the absurdity of all hit her, and she laughed despite the mist in her eyes. Ysana's way of doing things still struck her as strange, but after all it didn't matter any more than it did for her and Baldur. "Good enough for practice. As for this 'girls day', you aren't going to do anything... permanent, are you?" Ysana chuckled triumphantly with her hand over her mouth. "Ha! Light weights!" "Agh! Ma!" "Ah Baldur I just love seeing you squirm! Hehehe!" said Ysana giving the same trademark laugh Baldur gives. "Anyway as for permanency...no not in case you want a tattoo, dear." "Got some of those already, but for warriors," Rebec answered. "If that's all you do, I guess it's safe enough. Don't let Baldur back in here, though. He's the best bard in Skyrim and if he starts singing, all your little priestess friends are going to be hanging on him, and I aim to keep his number under twenty." Baldur sat back laughing and blushing to himself. He was a bit shy but also proud to be praised in front of his mother. Ysana saw this and started pinching at his cheeks yet again. "Oh you must let me hear it! You have to sing me one song at least before you go!" "I will ma I will, unless my cheeks are too sore to form words! Alright ma it's a deal. Once we take care of our last bit of business here in Markarth, we'll stay back a day for you to borrow my Rebec. I think I'll take some of my men and go hunting some forsworn." Baldur reached for his mother and gave her one last hug before it was time to leave. "I love you, ma." Ysana started tearing up once more during the hug. Shortly after, she pulled away and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you too, my little soldier man." "Alright Reb, you ready to go?" said Baldur who was blushing again. She was watching this scene with amazement, not yet used to the idea that Baldur had a real mother and one who loved him and was going to be part of both their lives. At Baldur's question, Rebec nodded. "We've got some business to attend to, Ysana. Serious stuff, not lollygagging. But we'll be back." Taking Baldur's hand, she walked with him towards the door, where they both paused to look back at Ysana. Rebec gave her a little friendly salute, and they went back through the big gold doors that had looked so intimidating an hour or so before. When they were outside and walking down the long trail of steps, Rebec said, "That was..." There weren't any words. Baldur didn't know what to say. That was...was all he could really muster himself. Baldur stopped walking and grabbed Rebec from behind, hugging her as he looked off at the view of Markarth and it's distant waterfalls. The sight of the tough stone architecture releasing it's water reminded him of Rebec and himself. "Thank you." Reaching up to take the hand on her shoulder, Rebec turned her head. "We both got a mother again. That's more thanks than I need." Baldur kissed his wife as her face was facing his, thinking to himself how he now had no reason to be angry at anything or anyone but the Thalmor. And Moon Balls. But as of right now neither of those things mattered. His family was still ever growing. The only desire he had now was to protect what he had. "Guess this place isn't so bad after all." Rebec smiled, thinking that finding Toki couldn't be any worse than the soul-baring Baldur had endured. Though a little edge of doubt lingered. "Let's go round up Mazoga and head out to Dushnikh Yal. We should be back by nightfall, unless we have to go searching very far." "Let's hope so. Don't want to stay too long in the Reach after nightfall. But after all this I'm gonna need something to keep my axe hand strong. Come on. Let's bring Toki home."

Honmund Mistwatch Late morning He put his boot against the chest of the Nord on the ground before him. He had buried his axe a little deeper than expected and now he had to use some effort to get it out again. A good an example as any to encourage the maintenance of their armor, this Nord's was worn beyond recognition. Around him the sound of battle moved towards an end. The Mistwatch bandits had fallen or retreated into the citadel of the fort, leaving only a few stragglers alive to fend of his own people. The fear that had to be sown among the ones still alive had to be immense. And, given the rumors of someone assimilating other groups into theirs, it would have sown mutiny among them. When they marched in there, it should be easy pickings, compared to how it would have been to take this fort for the Jarl's men. "Aenin, what do you think?" Honmund pulled the axehead out of the torso and waved for the Breton to come to him. Aenin took a small magicka potion from out of the pouch he kept to his side. He never could stand the taste of the damn things. You asked him, he'd have sworn the damn alchemists put skeever droppings in it, but Aenin had a small condition that made him use a bit more magicka than what he would mean to. This made his spells slightly more powerful than normal but made it harder to control. So he needed to recharge himself somewhat moreso than others. Still, he has grown used to it and it was not as bad as it once was. And if he did run out of magicka, he loved the feel of his steel pressing through a man's belly as much as he did the smell of their flesh cooking from his spells. As for the potion, he ofset the taste with a bit of wine inside. Aenin threw the bottle aside on a dead orc's face impaled with a greatsword nearby. "I think that this place is perfect, although we happened to take it a bit more easily than I would have liked. We need to do some repairs wid somedat money you got, if you don't mind the suggestion, boss. Nothin special, just wooden defenses, some traps covered in grass we can activate by pullin some ropes. You know, the nord styled ones. As for the ones that's left, I say we kill 'em. No good to us. We got enough ametuers from the last group of recruits if you ask me." "Not that, I know all of that already. I'm thinking about the attack on the citadel itself. There's gonna be a lot of dark corners in there, even if she should have scared them shitless by now." Honmund raised an eyebrow to the expression Aenin got when he drank the potion. Surely, it couldn't be that bad? The potions Frei made for him tasted quite well. Then again; different potion, different ingredients. Aenin was right about the defenses though, even if that was a moot point since he already knew. He had quickly learned that using the style of the orcish strongholds was the most efficient one; it gave good protection and offered some camouflage when seen from a distance. Most people avoided the strongholds when they could. "Ah sorry, you know how I am with reiterating things. Comes with being in the Legion. Having to explain things so often to so many. Anyway, we have two options with that. One is the obvious choice which is we storm 'em from the front and hope for the best, or two we try and ascend those mountains from behind the fort and climb up. There should be some kind of exit from up there. Trap door maybe. We go in there and have two teams in the front and back. The front teams will distract them and draw them out while the back teams can come from behind and finish them off. This will of course depend on if there is another way in which I feel pretty good that there is. We could wait til night when they're nice n' sleepy. We rest during the day so we're well alert and won't screw up. Or we go now so they don't have time to prepare. Either way, they're dead." Aenin took a cloth from his pouch to wipe the blood from his blade before sheathing it. "Actually, we got any rope? We can likely climb up to those battlements up there without the need of the mountainside, but after this I'm gonna have the men make a few wooden staircases." "We have, but I want to get this over with quickly. We have a lot to do once we're done, making this place livable again. I'll lead a team from the front, you'll climb around and see if you can find another way in. Men! Gather 'round!" The last words were shouted, turning every head to him. The last remaining Mistwatch marauders were quickly executed, without any ceremony of fuss. This was not the time to play with their food. Honmund himself ran up to the first plateau of a wooden staircase up to the outer walls of the fort, continuing his call for them to assemble around him. "Today we take another step in the direction of legitimizing our power! The Jarls and High King would condemn our efforts to build ourselves up as we do, but they have forgotten how they themselves got their thrones! In ancient times, Kings and Jarls were the ones to rule because they were the strong warriors and leaders of their days: The ones who could protect their people and lay waste to their enemies! But the Jarls we have now is but a pale imitation of the ones from the past, living with the power their ancestors claimed for them! The only one among our lords today that have earned any right to rule is the High King, Ulfric Stormcloak! But that does not mean we don't have the right to carve out a place for outselves! Today, we honor the memory of the Kings of Old, who fought for their power, as we take what will be the capital of our power and influence! Those of you who fancy a climb, follow Aenin in his mission to find another way into the fort! The rest of you will follow my lead as we break down the gate and storm the citadel! Excellency will be rewarded! Cowardice will be punished! Attack!" From inside the walls, it would sound like all hell broke loose. The tramping of feet as they ran towards the gate and the hits it took, giving in an inch after another. The Siege of Mistwatch would be over almost as soon as it had started.

Lorgar Grim-Maw Imperial City Afternoon Lorgar was sweating as if the sun was scorching down upon on him, in all honesty, it was only moderately warm today, and the sweat was caused by his nervousness. Lorgar was actually a very shy person, which was a surprise to most people. This is the first date Lorgar’s gone on, since. Has it really been more then decade? It was expected, Lorgar never had time to date, and he was far too busy with his duties as a Legate. He somehow got even busier after he was discharged from his position of Legate, due to him focusing solely on his work. Frea and Skorn tried to get him to go out with a bunch of Skaalish woman; none of them were his type. While good woman, both in personality and heart, Lorgar honestly didn’t prefer the “strong-woman” type, he much preferred the “cute and clumsy” type. Tullius called him a weirdo and said Lorgar had some sort of fetish, Marius said he was an idiot, for some odd reason. “They’ll eat me alive,” Lorgar tried to say “They’ll beat me up if I’m late from work with A Stlahrim mace. He told them. They never gave up, letter after letter they would talk about how “Morwen was interested” or “Fanari was searching for a man”. Despite there benevolent nature, they really where kinda perverted. Frea had gone out with every girl or boy in the village around her age (“Experimenting” she always told Lorgar when he called her out, honesty, he thought she was Bi. They called her the heart breaker) and Skorn had married thrice. (Admittedly, two of his wives were killed by Rieklings and a frost giant, while the third left to Morrowind and never returned). Also, they usually asked Lorgar about his sex life in letters, and when he visited, and where always disappointed when he said his life wasn’t that active. Frea and Skorn would be happy to know he was finally going out with someone. Speaking of, he had finally reached the Laughing Fox, and outside waiting for him was Countess Millerda. She had her medium length blonde hair done neatly, and she wore a lovely purple dress. Her golden spectacles shone brightly under the sun, along with her deep blue eyes. Though some would call her “small” or “weak”, the only thing Lorgar would ever call her would be “beautiful”. Lorgar himself had his dark-brown hair done very neatly, along with his always well-shaven beard. He wore his formal dress-uniform, but without his usual black long-coat. He waved at her, “Gooday to you milady.” At the sight of the Duke, Millerda blushed before bowing her head, “Hello-Milord.” Lorgar smiled at her, causing her to blush even more. He said gently, “Shall we be off to the First Edition?” The name of the Book Store down in the market district, it has a large selection of expensive, but rare books. She starred downward, looking at his feet shyly. She was obviously nervous about this, just like Lorgar. However, unlike Lorgar, she didn’t hide it. To calm her nerves, Lorgar lightly touched her chin, and brought her face up to his eye, “Are you feeling well milady?” Badum Badum Badum badumbdadumbdaum! Lorgar could hear and feel her heart beat speed up at his touch, she weakly responded, “I’m..fine, Milord.” She put on a warm smile. Lorgar returned it, before locking his arm around hers, and saying, “Let us be off then, milady.” Walking towards the market district, the countess shyly let her head rest on Lorgar’s shoulder, and Lorgar felt good.

Gracchus Ceno Imperial City Stable Midday Gracchus spent the night at the Fox, so after eating his breakfast and dressing in a spare black collared shirt and brown pants, he went to visit with his mom. The elder Ceno sat in her cushioned chair, watching the streets below with limited curiosity. She'd taken to repeating the same routine, usually watching out her window before napping, and then reading in the later parts of the day followed by tea and knitting. But her favorite times were her talks with her son. Gracchus entered and sat down on a chair next to his mother, listening to the vendors and pedestrians below before starting the conversation. "So, what story would you like to here today mother?" Lyra Ceno was particularly fond of her sons stories, as she loved listening to the adventures he encountered in the Legion. "Well, you said that you were in Hammerfell at one point, so how about you tell me about what that was like. No war stories, just describe the land for me." That was another of her favorites, when Gracchus would describe the exotic lands he'd visited, "Well, I couldn't talk about Hammerfell without mentioning the sand. It isn't like sand on the beach, soft and smooth, but hard, gritty, and it goes on for days in some places. But the oasis, those are truly magnificent. Natural springs sprouting from the ground, with all manner of greenery and animals congregating to the only source of life they can find. The flowers that sprout there rival ours in beauty, just from the sheer fact they are able to survive such hostility. The people there are much the same, hard and gritty, but beautiful because they can survive, and thrive in hard conditions." Lyra was droopy eyes already, her mind lost in the world Gracchus described to her. "It sounds beautiful. Magnificent. If you don't mind, I think I'll sleep now, gives these old bones some rest. I wish I could truly travel there, if even for a day. It sounds absolutely gorgeous, in its own way." Gracchus moved his chair back to the table in the room, and shut the door quietly so his mother could get some rest. He exited the tavern, and entered onto the streets, which were fairly crowded, with all manner of people from peasants to nobles traversing the city. He saw beggars holding there hands out hoping for a few septims, and children running around playing tag. Watching all these people passed the time, and Gracchus soon reached the stables. Lil Ceno was laying down in his pen, the hay beneath him crunching as he wood at the sight of his owner. Gracchus reached into his pocket, pulling out a handful of sugar cubes and letting the dapple gray warhorse lick them out of his open palm. Gracchus grabbed the saddle and put it on his horse, and rode out of the main gate. Several guards saluted him, recognizing him as a high ranking General. Together they slowly trotted around the city, taking in the sight of the White-Gold Tower looming over the city. It was a nice day, several clouds floating overhead, occasionally blocking the sun. The flowers were in full bloom, covering the fields in waves of reds, yellows, blues, and a multitude of other colors. Gracchus wheeled the horse around, heading back to the main gate. They reached it around four o'clock, and he dismounted and took off the riding equipment. Lil Ceno gulped down the water from his trough as soon as he was in his pen, so Gracchus dropped a few more sugar cubes before leaving. He passed through the Market District, wanting to stop and see if his special project was almost finished. A Breton lady manned the counter of the Argonian owned jewelry store where he stopped. "Hello, I'm looking to check on my order. It's under the name Ceno." The woman said, "One moment," before she went back into the store to find it. When she returned, she held in her hand a small wooden box. Gracchus took it from her outstretched hand, and opened it to find pure perfection. The ring was gold, with the name 'Catia' carved on the inside. Set on too was a diamond, small but perfect. The outside was carved, depicting beautiful flowers modeled like the ones outside the city. "How long until its finished?" Gracchus asked. "Umm...about another week or so. Finish up the carvings and polish it off. Will you be making another payment today?" Gracchus reached in his pocket at the last comment, and pulled out a bag holding two hundred septims. "I believe that should finish it off." The woman emptied to contents, counting them quickly. "Ah, that is it then. I assume you'll be back to pick it when it's finished?" "Yes, I want to give it to Catia as soon as possible. Thank you again and have a nice day." "You too." Gracchus left, his mind buzzing with anxious excitement. How should I do it though? I can't just propose in the tavern. No, Pilus would've killed me for that. Maybe in the gardens? Or outside the city, in the flower fields. I have a week to decide, but I better start making arrangements. Gracchus walked along the streets merrily, the heart and soul of happiness.

Maggie and Samuel Imperial City evening When Maggie was sure that the hunter and no other mortal enemy was following her, she turned a corner into a blind alley and vanished from sight completely. From there she disappeared into the sewers and emerged again in the front garden of her house. As she reached her front doorstep, smelling of sewer became the least of her problems. Still cloaked, she observed with horror that her nightblade guards had been bound and gagged. From the shadows she tried to use telekinesis to undo their bonds, but the ropes had also been enchanted with silence bindings. It was too sophisticated for even an intelligent hunter like the Vigilant. The Order was moving in on her. Her father might be waiting inside for her, to get rid of her on the Order's own terms. That hunter had just been a tightening of the noose, a warning that she couldn't run. No, not her father. He would never do such dirty work himself if he had a willing blade. It would be Samuel. Maggie's mind moved from afraid to desperate. She could go... nowhere. Alinor might have been beyond her father's reach, but she had made the Thalmor her enemies, too. Briefly she thought of the wizard Skjari. He was powerful enough to protect her, but wouldn't jeopardize the empress for her sake. If she was exposed as a vampire, the palace was the last place where she would find refuge. On her own, Maggie knew she wouldn't make it for long. Perhaps she would survive, but as a feral creature, which would be worse than destruction. There was nothing to do but face her fate. She left the unconscious guards where they were and entered the house. Samuel would be waiting in the garden. From the very beginning he'd chosen the one place she felt safe, felt herself, and had staked it out as not belonging to her any more than her own life did. Maggie first went upstairs to drink from her locked cabinet and change into a clean outfit. There was no rush, and she wouldn't let him see her rattled. Even if this was the end, she would meet it as a Colovian ought to do. In loose silk trousers and a sleeveless shirt, Maggie finally went down to the garden. Samuel didn't bother to conceal himself this time. She saw him standing next to her own blade, struck into the ground. Smiling serenely, she asked, "Am I to fall on my own sword?" "You're late," he replied. No emotions was to be seen on his face, or heard in his voice, other than that he wanted her to take the sword. Drawing his own blade, dark ebony with silver trimmings, he took a few steps back from the sword in the ground. The moment she reached out to take her blade, he shot past her, leaving a small, but notable but in her left underarm. A drop of blood fell of the tip of his blade; he had drawn First Blood. Maggie's instinct was to remain still and let the end come quickly. She looked at the blood on her arm, mesmerized for a moment at the small line of it sliding down her skin. It was so beautiful. She had always thought so. Her eyes returned to Samuel. No, her father wasn't going to let her end quickly. Even to the end he wanted to humiliate her, to show how inadequate she was to the bloodline of Darius Bathory. She'd promised Samuel that she wouldn't make it easy on him. Slowly taking up the slim Akaviri shortsword, Maggie set herself for the next attack, poising the blade over her shoulder with its point towards Samuel while her left hand began to glow with the green bloom of a spell. As soon as he saw the spell apepar in her hand, he shot in her direction again, ducking under the instinctive trust against his head, and left another cut in the palm of her left hand. The green bloom started to fade in and out as he left another cut, this one very shallow, barely even drawing blood, at her ankle. Once again, he took a step away from her, staying just inside the reach of her blade. Maggie lowered the blade. This was a useless exercise. "Make an end, Guardian. That is what you're here to do, isn't it? Or do you only intend to weaken me so that the hunter can claim me? A real pity, to think of my head as a trophy for one so humorless." "No, Rose, it is not," with his own blade down at his side, he responded with a similar distance as he had when he told her she was late. It was hard to say what he responded to; his purpose or the hunter claiming her. "Fight back." She might have done it for a lesser opponent, even her brother Jem, who liked to brag about his swordsmanship. Defiant, however, Maggie threw her sword down. It clattered across the paving stones and landed at Samuel's feet. "You all like to say what a liability I am, that I'm a loose element that must be brought into line. It isn't so. I've only ever wanted to be useful to our Order. If I can do so by dying..." She couldn't finish. It hurt her too much. Samuel raised an eyebrow, lowering his own blade. With a quick movement of his foot, he flicked her blade up in the air and took a hold of it. He then threw it in her direction; it landed on the ground before her feet. "This is a training exercise, not an execution. Now, take up your blade and fight back," he raised his own blade once more. Maggie studied Samuel, doubt entering her mind. Her father was typically more efficient than this. She took the sword up again slowly, and made a half circle, loosening her wrist. Watching for any sign of movement from Samuel, she prepared to leap above his head. Levitation games had always been a favorite. A smile, barely visible, spread across his lips. His left hand made a gesture, as if to tell her to go for it. Maggie did not take his bait, only circled closer. She made a quick move as if to strike high, and instead cloaked and leaped upward, preparing to execute a somersault in the air above him so that she landed behind his back. Samuel's hand found itself around her ankle, even as she had cloaked herself. She should have known that turning invisible would do little. With a show of strength one wouldn't expect by looking at him, he threw her back on the ground. Maggie's fall was broken by her levitation spell still active. Light as a cat, she leapt to her feet and cast a gout of flame in Samuel's direction. As she started to cast her spell, Samuel stepped to the side and towards her, adding another cut to her left hand. His left palm moved towards her forehead. Maggie moved to dodge the strike, then circled back around, intending to buy a moment to let her magicka recover itself. She didn't bother to heal the cuts, as they were minor and it would only use up reserves she needed elsewhere. "This lesson is extremely dull, guardian. If you mean to impress on me that I can't beat you, save your effort. I acknowledged as much." Samuel moved in and added another cut to the assortment she had already endured; this one in her left cheek. "This is not about swordplay, Rose. Act. Do something. Defend yourself. Stop acting like me being in the superior position excuses a lack of action. Even if you can't win, it is better to lose doing what you can." "I defend myself, you beat me anyway, and the end is the same." She lowered her sword again. "I refuse to play your game. That is my action." Samuel lowered his blade. "Fine, if you don't want to learn, I can't teach you. Heal yourself up, we have things we need to discuss, beginning with why you were late." There was no anger to speak of, just a hint of disappointment. He had a business-like tone, largely neutral. "Did you think I would wilt at the sight of my own blood? Is that supposed to be your lesson?" For a moment Maggie merely returned his cool gaze, then her face crumpled into a mask of distress, tears filling her eyes and sliding down her face, wetting the fresh cuts. "Please, no more. I'll do whatever you want. No! Don't! Please don't hurt me anymore!" The terror sounded real, then Maggie's face changed again and she was back to her cool demeanor, the tears and blood still mingled on her cheeks. Now her tone was laced with bitterness. "That's how the emperor got off, too. I had expected better from you." She thrust the sword in the ground next to Samuel's feet and pushed past him, headed for the house. "I'm going to get a drink. Join me, if you want to hear the riveting tale of Trym Heart-Hand meets Magdela Bathory. Oh, but please go release my guards first, if you're done with them. They've had a rough night." "And here I had thought you, of all people, would be intelligent enough to see the point of this lesson. It seems I overestimated your comprehension of the world around you. Again." Maggie was immune to expressions of disappointment, having endured Darius' withering attempts for the better part of two centuries. She took Samuel's insult without comment and disappeared into the house. He left her, going into her house to free her guards. They would be out cold for an hour or so still, but why not let them be free to move when they woke up? For the first time since Solstheim, he let some of his anger show. Stupid kid. Why was it so hard for her to understand anything? Had he really overestimated her so much? At this rate, he might just end her misery before it begun. She was acting exactly how her father would have wanted her to. Standing in her dining room, Maggie poured the glass of wine, then stood at the table and made no move to pick it up, staring blankly. She might have felt relief if the encounter had not only confused her more. What was he playing at? Her cuts still oozed, and she only noticed when a drop of blood fell on the white tablecloth. Absently she began to cast the healing spells and waited for Samuel to return. Samuel entered the room, finding Rose casting her spells. Healing. An art he actually didn't know a lot about. Not that he had ever needed it much. "Well then, Rose, I think it is time that you make whatever problem with me clear. The story about Trym can wait, for now. Why do you have such a problem with me?" Her voice was distant. "It's not you and we both know it. I don't even know who you are, and I suppose it doesn't matter. You're just here to do what Darius wants." Something occurred to her, and she turned to look at him. "Why do you call me that?" "Why do you call me Guardian? Not for the same reason, to be sure, but not everything has to make sense. You remind me of someone from my past. Her name was Fiona, but everyone just knew her as The Rose. She worked a lot like I did." Samuel took a seat by the table, gesturing for her to do the same. "You might be surprised by this, but what I am trying to do here would cast me from the good graces of your father. I once said that your family has more secrets than you'd imagine. One of them is this: We are an extended family. Your father, Darius Bathory, is my Blood Father." Taking the seat across from him, Maggie stared at Samuel for a long moment. "How can I ever trust you?" That was the crux of the problem. "Do you have a choice? If you don't trust me, you're done for. If you're not willing to I can't help you and you'll be left for the crows most people called nobility. And because by telling you that I am doing something that would cast me out of your father's graces, you could destroy me with a single meeting with your dear father. It might as well do this, and it would be the same." Samuel drew a dagger out of his jacket and placed it in Maggie's hand, before he pressed the tip against his own throat. "There, that is the metaphorical position you have me in. Go ahead, thrust the dagger in if you don't want to take the chance on trusting me. Would save me a lot of time and pain." She removed the dagger and laid it down on the table between them, tip pointed at her. "Why would you do that?" "Because it is painfully obvious that unless I did something to try to build more trust between us, I might as well plunge the dagger in there anyway. I need you as much as you need me, now and after my plans come to fruition. If they come to fruition." He let out a sigh and somehow he appeared to be... older? He looked the same, but his eyes... "I'm old, Rose, and tired of this. But as long as your father holds my leash, there is nothing I can do to stop this. And it is impossible to predict the ramifications of what will happen if my network collapse. A lot of people rely on it to get by. I need someone to help me with your father. And someone to take over my role once that is done. You wanted power? You can have mine, if you help me with this." Her mind was still reeling. The switch from being certain her life was over to being offered a chance to rival her father in power was a wide pendulum swing. It could be a test... "Why would you choose me? You said it yourself, I'm a concubine to fools. And a poor swordsman." "Who else is there that could possibly do the job I have, besides myself? It took me 200 years just to learn how to do it properly. The only other person in Tamriel, at least to my knowledge, that could do my job is your father. And Darius and I have something in common; we both have chosen you for this position. Difference is, he wants you to have a leash. I want him dead. You'll do well enough. Some of the network will crumble while you learn how to run it, but you'll be able to build it up again. Besides, who else can I trust to do something like this? The only person I would trust it with is Rorek and he has already turned down the Blood of the Dual Patrons. He has maybe 40 years left of his life, if something doesn't kill him before it comes to that. You're the only one who can do it." Maggie regarded him silently, weighing this. If what he said was true, then she had to face the fact that the hunter had found her not out of malice, but because of her own missteps. Mortals may curse bad luck, but her kind had no room for it. She'd been reckless, Maggie knew this. Part of her had always wanted Darius to get it over with and cast her out. She wanted to believe Samuel. Folding her hands in her lap, she said, "Tell me what happened. You said he turned you. Do you mean that it wasn't by your choice?" Samuel broke into a smile with a laugh. It was warm, in a way she hadn't really experienced from him yet. Was this what it was like when he was truly genuine? He looked into her eyes with the same eyes that made him seem so much older than his body would suggest. "It was my choice, the same way you give a prisoner a choice to fight for his freedom in the Arena or go directly to the headsman's block. I wasn't always like I am now; I used to be a merchant, in Skingrad. My father was a merchant, so I was to become one. It was the only life I knew, and the only one I wanted. My father always seemed so content with it and he thought me to be happy with doing something I was skilled at. And, I dare say, I was a skilled merchant. By the time I took over the store from my father, it had gained a small network of traders who dealt with me and me alone. This would be during the Tiber Wars." He pulled out a small bottle from his belt and a familiar smell filled the room, before he continued. "One day, the most beautiful woman you could imagine walked into my store and started to look around. Like anyone would, I walked up and asked if I could help her. Naturally, she dismissed me off-hand, at least until I told her that it was in fact my store she was browsing. She seemed to be sorry, so she said she'd buy me a drink to make up for the rudeness, when I closed up the shop that night. Looking back at it, it was a lot like a cliché love story. Except the part where she was accused for being a vampire by the Priesthood of Stendarr. This is when I learned that I had gotten myself involved with the sister of your father. She, of course, wasn't actually a vampire." The Colovian stopped for a moment, looking at Maggie with a distant look. "I was given a simple choice; join the fold of the Dual Patrons and serve the Order. Or I'd be forcefully turned and scapegoated for this whole thing. Looking back, I would have chosen differently. Your aunt ended up paying my price." Maggie's eyes fell. The story didn't seem to surprise her, even though it contained information she hadn't known. It was familiar enough in its themes. At length she said, "No one would ever tell me the truth, but I believe my mother was turned much the same way. I think I even know when it happened, though I was very young. Father meant to spirit us away and abandon her, or perhaps kill her. Before he could do it, she found out what he was, and begged to be allowed to turn. She was never the same after that. Instead of losing her children, she lost her rational mind." Maggie looked up at Samuel. "If what you say is true, he'll destroy us both if he suspects treachery. But kill him? Even now, I can't say... He's always been like a god to me." Thinking of the hunter, she added, "We may be out of time anyway." Briefly she described the meeting with Trym Heart-Hand and his ultimatum of delivering up a solid lead within one week. "This is unnerving, the Hunter acted a loot sooner than I had anticipated. And it sounds like you were lucky getting away form it with your life. Had you gone to their hideout, I doubt you'd have returned, even if I don't think he suspects you of being what you are." While she had told of her meeting with Trym, he had slowly nodded while looking at the table. Now, however, he seemed worried. "And you are right, we have to give him someone specific to hunt. There are not many ways out of this. Trym is one of the people I don't know a whole lot about, since he never stood out among the Vigilants before he started to hunt in the Imperial City. And we don't have anyone we can give to him. I am afraid you're going to have to betray me to him." "You? Do you want an end so badly?" "Do you have any better ideas? The Hunter will demand his Prey." Maggie shook her head. "No. You're too valuable. I can't challenge my father on my own. If it must be between me and you, then I'll do it. The Thalmor will get me sooner or later anyway, if I remain in public life, as I've chosen to do." She glanced down at the dried blood on her shirt. "And lest you think me pathetic after tonight, this hunter will get more of a fight. Perhaps you can even turn it all to your advantage, if Darius can be implicated." "Didn't I already explain why you're not allowed to do that just yet? Sometimes I feel I am the only one who listens around here. I cannot get near your father without you, and if I can't, your or my survival is pointless. Then he wins. The Hunter cannot be allowed to take the life of either of us, but I stand a better chance to keep him running in circles looking for me. The next time you meet him, you need to direct him to 'Maurice', which is one of the many names I go by. Tell him everything you know about 'Maurice' and do it honestly. Play on his impression that you are manipulated and scared. You had an admirable mask when doing that. Even I might have been fooled by it, if I already though you were the victim. Though toning it down a little bit wouldn't hurt. He has already seen you as more calm than that." "Less bleeding and weeping?" Maggie couldn't resist a little smile, though a grim one. She watched Samuel, still not trusting him fully, but he was right that she was left with little choice. They couldn't deal with Darius until the hunter was gone or scattered. Samuel might be setting her up, but she didn't think he lied about his own story. Haltingly she reached out a hand and put it over his. "It was long before I was born, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry about what my father did to you. It's why I don't love anyone, and never have." He put his other hand on top of hers. "It worked out for the better. With you here, I am given a chance to at least make one thing right before the end. I couldn't have done anything to stop this happening again if I chose death. While I think I would have chosen death if given the chance now, it is a cowards way out. People who face a great obstacle always have a moment where they have to chose between accepting that they have to do it, or live regretting that they have to. I think I owe you that I at least try to do the right thing. If I didn't, you'd be destined to replace me. It is as you said: His Precious Legacy." "I didn't even know he was so old. Old, yes, but he's more cunning than I'd imagined. I would feel proud of it, if I wasn't his plaything." She released his hand and stood, walking over to the bookcase where many of her own titles were displayed. Staring at them thoughtfully, Maggie said, "Do you know why I wanted to write novels? I feel free when I write, but one reason was because he hated it. He considered it frivolous as well as dangerous. I gravitated to romance novels because those readers want a happy ending. Even if I have to imagine miseries in the setting, someone gets to be happy." "Children tend to rebel against their parents. I suppose that was inevitable in your case. But a happy ending is always worth aiming for, even if it has to be the minor happy endings that a love story can bring. And, in my opinion, I don't think anyone can ask for more. The Lords and Ladies who rule the world will always bring conflict wherever they go, fighting for more power. Me too, to an extent, as I have helped more than one of these people in my time." Samuel remained seated, but followed her closely with his 'old eyes'. "I have to ask; if given the choice between anything in the world, what would you chose to do?" Maggie looked back at him with blank expression. "I have no idea." She had never considered the question, because what she wanted had never mattered. "This might not be of interest to you, but I already know what I would do," he smiled. His face, young as it appeared, spoke 'old man' more and more as this conversation went on. If it didn't stop, he might start to develop wrinkly skin before the night was over. "I'd dedicate my life to teaching others in the sword techniques I've picket up over the years. Strangely, training with swords under various masters was always the thing that allowed me to just relax." "And I spoiled your relaxation?" Maggie's smile became less guarded. "I'm sorry. Perhaps we can do it again on another day." "Not at all, that lesson in the garden was something different entirely. I'd done it differently, had I planned to instruct you int he ways of the blade." "I wanted to give you a taste on how it is to act under extreme duress. Alas, you stopped the entire exercise, making it a pointless spilling of your blood. You're going to need to be able to keep a cold head, even under such, and worse, circumstances." "I thought you wanted to torment me for your own reasons or my father's. I humored you for a time, but cooperating in such games has no point unless doing so furthers my own ends. It was a misunderstanding." "Quite so. I had not taken into account the effects on your thoughts the meeting with Trym would have, or that this meeting would happen in the first place. Without all the factors, my equation was destined to come out wrong. I can only imagine how alone you must have felt, in the company of these Vigilants, when you've become accustomed to me being aware of most all things that happens to you. I'd wager you thought you had been betrayed or offered as a sacrifice." "What else could I think when I saw my guards? You're not exactly their favorite person, you know." She gave a slight smile, and added, "You understand why I have to be suspicious, why I don't completely trust you even now. You've known Darius longer than I have. But we'll make a new beginning. I want to learn from you. Even if we don't overturn him, you already have a freedom that I never had." "A freedom that would last about as long as you would without the Order, should I go against your father unsuccessfully. As I said; he's the only one who is skilled enough to do my job and he have made sure to show me that he is able to break into my network. When I said he had me on a leash, it was quite literal, in the metaphorical sense." Maggie couldn't yet face the idea of what must happen if they were really to be free of Darius Bathory, but the day's events had brought her closer. She suddenly had an image of Dales Motierre slicing her father's throat, thereby making her own destiny. Could the young, mortal empress do something that she didn't dare to do? She walked over to the table and took a long drink of the wine. "I understand. First, the hunter. I am meeting him in the Emperor's Way gardens, so that I can have palace guard watching, and you too. I'll tell him of this man Maurice. If I point him to your servant Aleffea, will she know what to do?" "Aleffea is not to be involved in this. I prefer the contacts I have as Maurice to stay largely disconnected from the name you know me by. Tell him that I- Maurice- has often been seen in the shadier taverns and inns in the city. That should lead him to some results, but nothing that would lead him to us right away. We don't have any safe options for a permanent solution just yet." Samuel got to his feet and started to head for the exit. "I must leave you for now, the morning has arrived. But before I go, Rose; Remember, the first step in killing a God is to make him bleed." "Does Darius Bathory bleed?" Maggie sounded genuinely doubtful. "Good evening to you, guardian. You're earning that title in truth." "Morning, Rose. Morning."

Brund Hammer-Fang, Ulfric Stormcloak, Galmar Solitude Courtyard 6 a.m. Brund was ordered to Solitude not too long after Baldur and Rebec had left to Markarth. Already word was spreading that he was taking up Baldur's duties while he was gone and most considered him a glorified babysitter as most were not aware of his credentials as a Legate and he didn't save any Kings from a dragon. Brund was at a big disadvantage from that. He'd have to start making a name for himself soon if he didn't want to be overshadowed by Ulfric's favorite. He had one ace in his hole however. Galmar. Galmar and Baldur were never at odds, but they were never as close as he and Ulfric were either. Part of him resented that Baldur would receive so much attention from Ulfric, but he understood it. Galmar was getting old anyway and couldn't take up that mantle for much longer. Brund however, could. Galmar didn't hate Baldur, he was just unsure of him. He thought that despite the fact that ancient nords brought family into battle his wife was his biggest weakness. Brund to Galmar was a much more hardened man and better fit for a general. Also unlike Baldur, Brund actually wanted the position of High General that Ulfric was toying around with making. Complete control of the entire military force in Skyrim. Same power Ulfric held although Ulfric would of course still hold the last word on all matters. Someone with that kind of power couldn't afford to have a weakness like Baldur's. Galmar noticed very soon how different Baldur was when he returned from the war. Normal men would just say he was happy. Galmar would say weaker, less resolve. He thought Baldur thought the same thing subconsciously and that's why he recommended Brund. He thought he was looking for a way out of his responsibilities completely, or at least that's how he justified trying to get a new horse for Ulfric to trot on. Galmar expressed his thoughts to Brund and told him if he wants that position he needed to impress somehow and hopefully Galmar's council with Ulfric would make up for Brund not being the one to end a whole war. Brund was now watching the new squadron of men he was assigned. Only a force of one thousand five hundred for now, to test the waters. All recruits, all normal stormcloaks. Despite him being a Necro Nord, Ulfric didn't like the idea of anyone leading the Grim Ones besides Baldur and no amount of pleading from Galmar would change his mind on that. Baldur had their loyalty and was to most their figurehead. He didn't want to risk their good reputation by leading them with someone else even though all Skyrim was fighting currently was just forsworn. Most of the men were off sharpening weapons, checking armor, running drills and so on. Just keeping busy, nothing special. Brund had a small group of one hundred doing practice. Rigorous Necro Nord practice like what Baldur had them do in Falkreath. As the two groups were fighting head on, one of the men routed back and the other men forgot to knock him out after doing so. Brund wished to spread that mentality of fight or die throughout all of the Stormcloaks, not just the Grim Ones. Brund took this opportunity to let the men get to know him. Ulfric was standing with Galmar up on the battlements looking down below. Ulfric knew the new general he was watching showed promise and was curious to see what it was both Galmar and Baldur saw in him that he didn't. "Halt! Stop the fighting NOW!" said Brund. Brund's raucous voice was intimidating enough to shed the hairs off a troll's ass and it's effect upon the men was instant and quite apparent. Complete obedience. No one dared to piss off the man. There wasn't even the occasional smart ass trouble maker who made an off remark. No one wanted the attention of this man's gaze. But his gaze did one man earn regardless. Brund made a slow march through the crowd of men, slowly approaching the young soldier that had routed back from the front line. How would Baldur handle this if it was his first time with the men? Hmm... Each step was heavy and intentionally menacing. All that could be heard in the early morning was the birds chirp chirping and Brund's considerably sized boot meeting the stone. Each step made the men's mouths dry as he walked near them through the ranks. Exhalation could be heard from the men as the general passed them by as their anxiety of being the one to anger him washed away. Everyone knew exactly who his target was, yet the soldiers couldn't help but feel as though it were they that he was coming for. Brund liked this effect. He hungered for it. Lived for it. The power, the respect. The fear. The soldier who had routed lost sight of Brund behind a soldier as he walked by behind him, so he hurriedly placed his helmet on, hoping that he would lose track of him. The helmet fully covered his face and eyes, but he held his eyes shut anyway. If one were to retell the story and think that the man was acting like a milkdrinker, it is only because they had not seen or heard Brund. Even Baldur was intimidated by the man, but he was just better at not showing it. Brund's footsteps could be heard by the man coming closer and closer, heavier and heavier as he came until they were heard directly behind them and finally ceased. There was a long pause, until the man wondered if Brund was actually still behind him. "YOU!" The man breathed in sharply just when he was about to exhale in relief. "Yes sir!" said the young soldier. To his credit, no fear was heard in his voice. As said before, he was no milkdrinker. He was in Brund's sights and he would take whatever punishment that came to him like a true nord. "Who were your assigned shield brothers?" said Brund. The soldier guided the general through the crowd to his two shield brothers that fought alongside him. "You three come with me to the front." Ulfric watched with great curiosity at the sight. He was interested to see how he would handle things with the men as was everyone. "Ah I see, he's going to take a page out of Baldur's book. Gain their respect by scaring them a little and then show it's a joke." Galmar said nothing. He didn't like that he related everything to Baldur. To him it seemed unfair to Brund who was trying very hard to prove himself. Galmar could tell in Ulfric's head, Baldur had already won. Hm, I can't blame him I guess. Baldur is my friend too, but he isn't the right man to lead our entire military force. I'd bet he'd agree himself. I can tell he never wanted the position of general. He most certainly won't want High General. "LINE UP!" The three men stood straight and next to each other with the one who routed to the left facing the other men. "The one who routed like a coward, step forward." The nord stepped forward without hesitation, ready to take his beating. "Remove your helmet so all can see your face, then remove your cuirass and chainmail." The man reluctantly complied. He wasn't eager to have one hundred of his comrades see him humiliated in such a way but if he took it well, he could at least hold some remnant of honor. Brund slowly unsheathed his hammer from the leather holster over his chest and back that loosely hanged diagonally over him. Pointing it at the two who stood beside the one that routed, Brund commanded, "You and you. Take out your practice swords and beat this man's back so that his lesson will be learned!" Galmar looked down, bored at the spectacle. For someone who claimed to hate Baldur, he sure was copying his tactics down to the letter. Ulfric looked on and all he could see so far was that Baldur had taught him well and was a testament to his leadership skills. The soldiers looked at one another as they slowly complied and unsheathed their practice swords. Both of the men drew their breath as they stood behind the man and pulled their weapons back to begin the onslaught. "BEGIN!" said Brund, spraying spittle from his mouth as he did. No sooner did he say it did hey dash forward with impressive speed for a man his size and blocked the blows with the handle of his hammer. As expected. That's how Baldur would have handled it. The men started relaxing and they all started breathing easy now, some even started laughing as they saw that Brund was only pulling their leg. "Alright alright, go back in line and resume your training." As the men stepped past Brund, Ulfric started making his way back to the palace, seeing everything he wanted to see. Galmar too went back, shacking his head as he did. You failed to impress. Brund smiled surprisingly warmly to the crowd as the men marched by. Replies of, "Hey he's alright" and "Boy, did he have me scared" could be heard from the men as they saw the facade of a grumpy menacing bear fade before them. Then....Brund made his move. Hammer still in hand, Brund ran forward again with his impressive speed for a big man and swung his hammer in his right hand over his head, then brought it down low to the left of him where the men's legs were, simultaneously tripping them and making them land face first into the stone floor. Brund dropped his hammer and picked both men up, then slammed them face first into each other before dropping them on their backs. Brund then picked up his hammer and pressed it down over both men, pinning them to the ground and holding them there with his foot. "This is not a game! I am not your friend, I am not your buddy, your comrade or a minstrel! I do not sing songs, I do not joke, I AM NOT BALDUR RED-SNOW! I am your boss, your General, your commanding officer! I have one rule and one rule only! Obey. You will not retreat in battle and if you DO retreat, your comrades will kill you. And if they don't...." Brund put his boot under his hammer's pole, and skillfully kicked it up in the air before catching it and whipping the pommel down to hit the soldier on his left in the head, knocking him out. "In practice if a comrade routs, you knock him out. If you don't, you get ten minutes of pain from me. Do you understand?" "Yes sir!" "And you! Back in line! Maybe this time your comrades will DO AS I SAY!" Galmar and Ulfric had stopped in their tracks when they saw this. Now he had Ulfric's attention. "Well well! That should get these men into shape, assuming he doesn't beat them until they're useless." said Ulfric. "They need this. We can't have these snowbacks being weak and green if we plan on using them for war. Our military is fresh. We need to whip them into shape pronto and Brund is just the man for the job." said Galmar. "So I see, so I see. The men may think it harsh, but such is war. Baldur has an eye for talent." said Ulfric. "Damnit, Ulfric. Must everything go back to him? I know you are thinking of making him High General. But the man has other goals! He wants to settle down with his wife, so let him! Don't you see Baldur gave us Brund for this very reason? He's more experienced in leading men, just as loyal, just as devoted and-" "But he's not as smart. And the fact that Baldur does not want the position is exactly why I want him to have it. Baldur is a natural born leader, charismatic, has an eye for talent...he's like me. like a son I never had. Brund is a good warrior, maybe even a great general. But he's not someone that can be the face of a group. He can't rally men behind him and call them to arms like Red-Snow. I will still watch him and hold him for consideration. But as of now my mind is set on Baldur. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Baldur expected Brund to spread his training to the other men. He did say to me that the other general should be specifically a Grim One." "But B-" "That is enough on the subject for now Galmar. I promise to give him a fair shake." At this point, that is impossible. thought Galmar. "Speaking of a son...you been trying for an heir?" Ulfric's brow knit fiercely at the question and Galmar thought Ulfric was about to thu'um him off the battlements for a second. "....Yes, occasionally. I know it's important I put a baby in Elisif's belly. It's just hard when I can barely stand her presence. Always acting for the people. Pretending that we are together. It sickens me. But it is what I must do for Skyrim. My seed may have already taken hold... Enough talk of that, friend. Let's go." Brund was looking up at the two as he stood next to the unconscious soldier on the ground, watching them chat about him. That introduction should make it clear. I am not Baldur. I am better. I'm going to take that position for myself and let all know. And if I can't, I'll make it to where there's no one left to hold the position but me. That bar bellowing minstrel won't be taking my position again. Of this, I am certain!

Skjari Imperial palace Morning Skjari was sitting behind his desk in his chambers, rereading the previous court mage's journals to see if he worshiped a particular god more than the others to see if he could find a clue to this "divine fire" mystery. So far it seemed like the court mage hadn't been the religious type at all, as it lacked any real mentioning of any god, temple, shrine or anything that could be linked to the divines. After finishing reading through the first journal, he put it down onto the desk and began to think about the riddle the mage had left him. Dragon fire maybe? These imperials don't worship the dragons as my people did and I bet the old court mage had never even seen a live dragon in his life. But then there's Akatosh, but these dragonfires that apparently existed before this Oblivion Crisis does no longer exist, so that leaves dragon fire out of the question. The bruial fire that is used for the rituals of Arkay? Maybe, but then I have to find someone who is be buried with fire or kill someone who has expressed a wish to be buried with fire. But if it's the wrong fire the book will undoubtedly be destroyed. There's also this sunfire spells of Stendarr, though Stendarr might actually have no real connection to these spells and have just been connected with them because of these Vigils. Did the old mage even know of these spells? So many things to consider and I only got one shot at finding the right fire. Skjari's pondering was interrupted by a tapping on the window. He turned around and saw Karsh standing on the small ledge outside his window. After getting up and opening the window for the raven, Karsh flew up and landed on his left shoulder and Skjari heard the deep voice of the raven in his ear. He had worked hard to make sure Karsh didn't sound like a hagraven. "Hello Boss. I've got news for you. I found Samuel, but I soon thereafter lost track of him... again. Sorry Boss, but he's not easy to spy on, even for me. But I think I've gotten better at predicting his ways of losing pursuers." "Get to the point." Skjari said with a hint of impatience. "Well I found the Maggie when I was searching for any person of interest and she was approached by one of these pompous, holier-than-thou Vigils. He seemed to suspect her and they then went to the tavern The Laughing Fox. Of course I could not follow them inside, but when that pomp came out, I followed him. He ended up walking back to this cave that is called Sideways Cave, it lies to the northeast of the city. That is all I got for now. Can I get some breakfast now? I'm starving." Vigils in the city? Interesting. Skjari walked over to his desk and Karsh jumped down from his shoulder onto it, then he opened the middle left drawer and picked up a small leather bag. The bag contained slices of roasted and preserved meat which he opened and put on the desk next to Karsh, who started eating, by picking up each slice before gulping it down, to his hearts content. Skjari then sat down and opened the middle right drawer and picked up a small letter, a letter that had been sent from some noble expressing a wish for the enchanting of a blade. He also picked up a blank piece of paper and a quill and inkwell from the drawer below the previous one. Then used magic to copy the handwriting from the letter as he wrote. "You might find the spymaster, Lorgar Grim-maw, to be a person of interest." He then simply folded the piece of paper and gave it to Karsh. The raven had stuffed himself with the meat so when Skjari handed him the letter he gave up a croaking that sounded like a burp. "Take this and put it in a visible spot outside that cave. And make sure no one sees you." Karsh nodded, picked up the letter with a talon and then flew out through the window. Skjari closed the bag with the meat and put it back into the drawer before leaning back in the chair. Now he only needed to wait for the events to unfold as he went back to pondering the riddle of "divine fire".

Alef, Marius Imperial City Market Daytime Marius walked threw the crowded streets of the market district, wary about pick pockets and other threats. He was clad in his StormcloalkLegionary uniform, along with the blue cape of a Stormcloak general. (Which he wasn't.) He had his two swords in there sheaf's, and a cigarette in his mouth. Alef looked down at the different fruits some street salesman tried to press on her, at a discounted price. It was fairly obvious what he was after, but she wasn't interested. In him or the fruit. It looked fresh enough, but she weren't hungry. Besides, what possible use would she have of a fruit-salesman? With a roll of her eyes, she walked over to a jewelry stand. No small amount of glances of men went in her direction, with her lowcut, silk dress. And she was sure the rumors about Dunmeri women didn't do much to hurt their fantasies. In the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a familiar face. Could it be? Before Alef could even react, the man walked in huge strides towards and had a tiny blade at her stomach, He said quietly, "Turn around, walk to the alley over there, and don't scream. Because if you do, I swear by Stendar, i'll turn your stomach into bloody bits." "Marius, I- oh!" she let out a surprised whimper when she felt the steel against her. Was he mad, threatening her in the market!? With two quick moves, she could make a lot of these men attack him and escape with her life. But that was not an option. She had duties. Sometimes they got unpleasant, but that is how it had to be. "Okay, okay," she whispered back to him. She did as he asked, hoping no one would notice. Well, too late for that, judging by the look of the fruit salesman, but she pleaded to Azura that he had the wits to stay out of this. She didn't have high hopes for that though, she could already see the anger build in his eyes. Most likely, he'd rush into the alley when he worked up the courage, trying to help her. Amateur. Marius, not noticing the salesman. Proceeded to walk to the alleyway, behind the Dumner woman. "General, I- I've not seen you since we briefly met in Skyrim. I-" "Shut up ****." Whispered Marius, "It's ambassador now, I have your "master" to thank for that." She threw a glance out of the alley, looking for the salesman. When he came, she had to make it seem like nothing was wrong. Marius probably wouldn't mind what we would do, other than being more than a little surprised. For now she only had to keep him in mind though, dealing with the situation at hand. "Yes, I- I heard. Worked out well for you, didn't it?" That caused Marius to push her harder, and furry to appear in his eyes, "Shut the **** up. NOW" Her second glance out of the alley paid of; the salesman was on his way in, with a dagger drawn. "Play along!" Aleffea hastily whispered with a motion to the alley entrance, before she leaned in a locked her lips to his. Marius, who had a shocked look about him, shrugged, before wrapping his arms around Alef and passiontley kissing her. He still had the dagger to her stomach however, but it was well hidden from the sight of the salesman. The salesman stopped in his tracks when he saw a scene he had not expected in the alley. Hoping the pretty Dunmer hadn't noticed his mistake, he left, unharmed outside of a wounded pride. Once his footsteps disappeared back into the crowded street, she broke free of Marius' embrace. "Sorry, I had to act fast," she gave him a quick bow. "Please, put away the dagger. There is no need for weapons here. I am unarmed, and no good to you dead." Marius looked at her, before putting the small blade into his bag. He inhaled and exhaled a puff of his cigarette directly in her face, before saying, "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way miss Alef. You decide." "I suppose you want Samuel, but you're short on luck there. I don't know where he is, only that he is somewhere in the city. He finds me, when he needs me. Not the other way around." This was one of those beautiful moments when the truth and the lie should would have made, if it was different, was the same. "Alas, miss Alef, I suppose you want it the hard way," Marius, without warning, grabbed Alef by the throat, and slammed her into the wall. He snarled, "I served with the Pentulas Occulatus, as a torture technician for five years. I know how to make ******* like you talk. TELL ME WHERE THE **** IS SAMUEL!!!" Squirming in his grip, she did her best to respond to his question. "Do you... honestly think Sam-uel would... eh... let anyone be in a position to sell him... out? You need to... get him to come to you..." "Last time I got that bastard close to me, he took advantage of my gender-ortetatiion to get closer, sold me out to the ******* Stormcloaks as a ******* object!!!" He drew his knife, and put the blade under Alef's finger nail "Tell me NOW" "Do... what you must.... the answer is the same... I can't help mo...re than I have... You have to play his game... if you want to get to... Samuel..." Marius put his hand to Alef's mouth, and used his knife to pry one of the her nails off. The muffled scream wasn't heard in the market and she knew it. She tried to make words out of it, but she just couldn't. What an idiot, trying to force information out of someone while preventing them from talking. And he clearly had no idea who he was dealing with. If he thought that Samuel's lieutenants had any better chance to find him than he himself had, he had to be a horrible judge of character. That fact should be obvious to even a goblin who had drunk himself to death. Tears started to run down her cheek. "I'll ask again, tell me where he is" He said, revealing her mouth. "I don't know! You s'wit, are you so blind that you think you can accomplish anything by doing this? He doesn't trust me more than he trusts you! No one knows where he is when he doesn't meet with you!" "Maybe...maybe I just enjoy it." Alef had to roll her eyes at this. Really? That was his reason for this? Taking out his frustration on her, even though it would only bring Samuel's attention to him in a way he didn't want? Yeah, she had judged him right, he was a moron and a blind one at that. "Why? Pissing Samuel off further before meeting him isn't going to do anything to help you." "If he sends assassins after me i'll kill them, until he himself confronts me. I have to piss him off. Smart plan wouldn't you agree?" Marius brought the dagger up to her shoulder, before slashing at the skin. Alef screamed. "He wouldn't send assassins after you, the bounty on your head will do fine. The only way to get to him is if he wants to meet you. If he doesn't, you're never going to see him. You have to play his game, or else you'll never win!" "Then how can I arrange that? How do I play his little game, dear Alef?" "I- I don't know," she tried to get loose from his grip, to no avail. "If he knows you are here in the city, and I think he would by now, he either has a plan for you, or he has decided that he doesn't want anything to do with you. If the later is the case, you'll never find anything but a dead end if you pursue him." "Then..." Marius dropped the knife, with a look of horror on his face. Looking at Alef's cut skin and torn fingernail, Marius gagged, before emptying the contents of his stomach. "Are... are you okay?" despite what had happened, Alef looked at Marius with a worried expression. From a belt, she nicked a small potion with a red liquid. Once consumed, she could feel that the wounds he had inflicted started to heal. She would need a proper healer to fix everything, but the potion should stop the pain. "Go...leave..." Aleffea looked at him for a while. This guy was more unpredictable than she had imagined. But he had finally seen reason. Samuel was going to hear from him about making this up to her, big time. Trying to remain calm, she walked out of the alley and back into the market, headed for Tanie's establishment. She needed some sleep. And a bath. And... something...

Lorgar, and Gracchus Imperial City, Night Tullius screamed, "MORE, GIVE ME MORE" As he devoured another plate of chicken wings. He had just chugged another pint of ale a few minutes before. Lorgar, who honesty thought this extremely amusing, told the female inn-keeper, "What he means to say, my good woman, please bring another plate of chicken wings and another pint for the both of us" Catia was covering for one of her usual workers, who was sick that day, and had been serving these two men, Spymaster Grim-Maw and High General Tullius. "It will be a moment, sir, as you have eaten all the wings we had. We do have some stew ready, and some sweet rolls." After she said that, she glanced at the open door on the second story where she knew Gracchus was talking with his mom. He put in a good word for these two, so she put up with Tullius' rudeness. While Tullius looked disappointed, Lorgar smiled at her, "This moron will eat anything milady, Stew is fine..." Catia walked back towards the bar, returning with two steaming bowls of venison stew and a loaf of bread. Just as she exited the kitchen, Gracchus came walking down the stairs, planting a kiss on her cheek and carrying one of the bowls for her. They sat the bowls down in front of the two men. Gracchus greeted his two army mates. "How've you been Lorgar? Job of Spymaster keeping you busy?" "Quite fine Gracchus, quite fine. Extremely busy infact, so many duties to attend." Lorgar took out a cigar from his coat pocket and put it in his mouth, before grinning at the man, "Of course, my pay is more than your's and Tullius combined, due to my fief and my salary as Spymaster, so there are some benefits." Gracchus motioned to the cigar. "I see your pay has allowed you to take up some new habits. Lorgar is a cigar man now!" Gracchus laughed, before turning to Tullius. "And what about you, High General? How's life on the Elder Council treating you?" Tullius groaned, as he began to dig into his stew and bread. "Awful. All these dumb brained politicians who haven't stepped on a battlefield in there entire life, raised in mansions and had there thumbs sucked since they came out of there mothers area." Snarled Tullius. This caused Lorgar to laugh, "If I recall, you where born to an extremely rich General and noblewoman, so I bet your thumb was sucked a lot." "Whatever..." Muttered Tullius with a wave of his hand, Gracchus laughed also. "Well since you two brought your finely lined pockets to this establishment, the next round will be on me." Gracchus motioned to the Redguard Ena, who brought over three mugs of the home-brewed ale Catia's tavern was known for. "Heheheheh..." Laughed Tullius, with a grin forming around his lips. He grabbed a mug of the ale, handed one to both Gracchus and Lorgar. He raised his mug up high and said, "A toast, to her majesty Empress Dales." Gracchus raised his mug as well. "Aye, a toast to our new empress. And to us, for helping her get there." He drank a good portion of the ale in one gulp, before setting it down. Tullius and Lorgar just gulped it up in one swing, '' Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh....''' Gracchus waited until Tullius as Lorgar finished their ale so ask Lorgar a question. "So, Lorgar, have you finished rooting out all of te Justicars? I know that was one of your primary objectives when you took the job." "No we haven't bastards are very clever. Even after we stormed there safes houses, we haven't caught all of them." "Well, at least that'll keep you busy for a while." Gracchus grabbed his mug and finished off the rest of his ale. "Hello...duke...Lorgar..." Said a shy voice behind the spymaster. The owner of the voice was a short imperial girl; she wore expensive clothing, and had a pair of spectacles. Her skin was a slightly pale, and her hair was blonde. Her face was soft, and cute. Lorgar turned around, before bowing his head and putting on a smile, he said in a courteous and polite voice, "Good day to you Milerda." The girl, Milerda, coutsied him, before blushing and heading to her table frantically and clumsily, which caused Tullius to laugh. "Look's like the mouse has a crush on the wolf." "Don't be rude Tulius, that's the daughter of the count of Chorrol..." Said Lorgar, taking a sip of his ale.” "This tavern is a temporary home to many important people. Catia takes good care of them, and most of the time they leave happier than when thy arrived. They aren't the only ones..." Gracchus glanced up at the topic of the conversation, who was currently serving some steak to a couple in a corner booth. "So, how do you know this girl, Lorgar?" "Millerda? I meet her when I was attending the ball of her mother, the countess of Chorrol. She's a very interesting girl, loves reading historical fiction and non-fiction history books." "Really? I may have to recommend some for her, as I also enjoy the occasional history. I particularly love the recounting of the Redguards repulsion of the Thalmor." Gracchus looked at the countess' daughter. "So, are you, erm, interested in her?" Lorgar coughed awkwardly, "I don't think if I would be a good match for her. I'm a soldier at my core, she's a pampered lady of the court. Though compared to many other ladies, she's very interesting, so I could do much worse. I had the feeling when I talked to her father at the ball, that he would be "Interested" in the idea." "Well good for you Lorgar. Now if only we could find Tullius a match. I bet I could get Catia to make some more wings, and he'd probably marry those!" Gracchus laughed, and smiled at Tullius. "So, have you found someone?" "Having a wife would cramp my style...could you really see me with children?" Said Tullius with his eyes wide open. Lorgar said sarcastically, "No, no I couldn't. You would be a horrible father, making them wake up at 3:00 AM in the morning to do marching drills, and then force them to swim in a frozen like." Just then, the "mouse" was once again near the table, she started to tug on her hair, and said in a very quiet voice, blushing, "Excuse me duke...ummmm...I heard you like books a great deal...I was...wondering if you would like to go with me to the book store tomorrow at 12:00?" She said, extremely nervous. Lorgar turned around, and smiled at her warmly, "Of course milady, I would be honored to occupy you to the book store. Shall I pick you up from here tomorrow?" Lorgar said with a bow. Millerda blushed before nodding her head, and jogging back to her table with speed. Tullius laughed, before saying, "Looks like the wolf has a date with the mouse." Gracchus smiled at the duke. "Well well well, looks like she may also be 'interested'. Lorgar has got himself a date. Congratulations." "Yeah yeah...I don't think Date is the right word..." he said with a wave of his arm, just then, due to the speed she was going at, the countess lost her balance and fell into a patron, whose ale spilled all over him. Millerda put a hand to her mouth, before saying apologetically, "Ooops clumsy me, forgive me good sir." “The man, who looked intoxicated, snarled at her viciously, which caused her to gasp and back away slowly, "Watch it, Whore..." Those words, caused both Lorgar and Tullius to stand up from there seats, with anger in there eyes. Tullius, who momments ago looked piss drunk, somehow instantly sobered up, adopting a sharp stance, along with cold and clear eyes. Lorgar, who wasn't drunk to begin with, had visible furry in his eye. Catia saw the incident, and she yelled out, "There will be no fighting in my tavern! If you are to kick his ass, take it outside." Gracchus also jumped up, but stood between the drunk man and the soldiers, palms up and arms outstretched trying to keep then seperate. "Okay guys, we just need to take a deep breath. Lets think about this before we do something we regret." "Nobody insults a lady, without apologizing in my presence." Said Lorgar, with a calm, but anger-filled voice. Tullius followed up with, "Nobody insults the girl, whom is going out with Lorgar, but me..." snarled Tullius. Which caused Lorgar to cough, "Alright, alright." Gracchus turned to the drunken man. "You, you better apologize this instant, or I will not hesitate to let these two men kick your ass.” The drunk man laughed, a drunken laugh that shook his whole body, causing him to grab the table to keep from falling. His two friends stood up, just as drunk as him, and one of them said, "Oh yeah, and what are three old men gonna *hic* do about it? You can't take us." His friends echoed his words, saying, "Yeah, you guys are *hic* old!" Gracchus dropped his defensive stance, and immediately threw a left hook at the farthest left man. The man dodge his blow, but Gracchus grab him in an iron grip by the throat and slammed him on the table, snapping it in half. He left the other two for Lorgar and Tullius, expecting them to get in on the action. Lorgar dove onto the man who insulted the countess, thrusting his fist into his head, and bringing his knee into his groin area. The man didn't even have a chance to bring his guard up, as Lorgar threw blow after blow until the man was knocked cold, covered in blood and bruises. Tullius took the other one, moving at surprisingly fast speeds, while putting the man in an arm lock, twisting his arm around and breaking it. All the men were dealt with, bloody, bruised, and unconscious. Catia ran up, her furious expression written all over her face. "Get out! GET OUT! And take these fools with you to the hospital" She pointed Tullius and Lorgar to the door. "And you, I'm going to have words with YOU!" she said to Gracchus. Gracchus suddenly became very still, and his face was as red as a tomatoe. Lorgar and Tullius nodded to each other. Tullius grabbed the one he beat up, and slung him over his shoulders. Lorgar, instead, slowly approached the stunned girl, the countess, and brought up her small hand and kissed it gently, "I must beg my leave milady, I hope this "man's" words didn't harm you?" Said Lorgar, the countess, whose face was a deep shade of red, replied in a quiet voice, "Ummm...no milord..." She muttered, Lorgar smiled charmingly at her, "Good...I look forward to our outing tomorrow." And with a bow, Lorgar left the girl, and picked up the two remaining drunkards over his shoulder with ease. "See you Gracchus..." Both men said as they walked out of the door. Gracchus grabbed the broom that Catia went and grabbed, and began sweeping up the mess. After that was finished, he climbed the stairs and waited for Catia's rebuke. She stood there, pacing around the room. "I can't believe what you did...you not only let them, but you helped them as well." Gracchus stared at the floor. "They were drunk anyway..." "I don't CARE that they were drunk! Do you realize how this will affect business?" "I'm sorry for what it's worth." Catia sat down on a desk in the room. "I know. And you guys were right about veering those men up. I just wish you had taken it outside. I'm glad you stood up for that girl though." Gracchus got up and hugged her, and though she only halfheartedly returned it he knew she wasn't truly mad.

Honmund Gallows Rock Just before noon The red runes that covered his axe gave it a trail as he swung it through the air. One of the last relics of a time when it was his kind that were the fear of the seas in the north-east of Tamriel. Until the elves had settled settled the island en mass. Now the grey-skins had taken over the Reavers. And even he, one of the last Nordic Reaver Lords, had left and settled in Skyrim. But at least they would never get their hand on this axe. Honmund stopped swinging the axe and brushed the sweat from his forehead. He had been it for about an hour now, and he could almost see the red trail in the air still. Now that he was finished, he thought back on doing this in armor. He'd have to do that tomorrow. "You're done, love?" Honmund turned to the entrance of the room as a woman of his own kin entered. Frei. With a smile he nodded and walked over to her, kissing her forehead. She pushed him away and held out a small bottle with a green liquid; one of the potions she used to make for him, after he trained. He loved those things. "Stop being a pansy," she said as she pushed him away, making him let out a small laugh. "You've got to get out there and show you're not dead in here. You've been holed up for days now." "Right, right," he answered with a distracted tone. His mind had gone to Aenin, the leader of the first group of marauders he had conquered. Smart guy, deciding to take the option to join instead of fighting. And he was a former Legionnaire. He had to admit that had its advantages, especially when it came tot he training of the men. It was a bit more... structured that his own training had been. "I'll go, I'll go!" he said, again with a small laugh, as Frei hit him in the shoulder. "Not before you get dressed you don't!" He looked down at his body, ahving completely forgotten that he wasn't wearing anything but a loincloth. "Right, getting dressed. The Plate or the Carved armor, in your opinion?" "Plate; it is a warm day," Frei rolled her eyes and walked out. Honmund chugged the potion she had brought him, feeling the energy come back to him. Best decision he had ever made, letting that alchemist gal join his group. And she was sort of an unofficial second-in-command in his group, so that was good. ** After having gotten dressed, he walked outside. The ruined fort was reinforced with logs, like the orcish stronghold tradition. Effective, if a bit crude. On the far end of the courtyard, where the rubble was at its minimum, he could see Aenin bark orders at the poor saps who had just joined up. Always warmed his heart, that. "Aenin, a word?" as Honmund got closer to him, he shouted at the Breton. Aenin was a bit ticked at these new members as they were performing as if they were common bandits. Which was possible that they once were. No sort of control for their attacks, no though, rhyme or reason. Aenin didn't like training these sorts as they usually ended up s cannon fodder. Aenin contemplated going off and making another example out of the new members as he once did before, but that didn't turn out very well for the lad in question. Underestimated the Breton battlemage and ended up getting...burned. "If I don't start seeing some results soon, I'm gonna have the rest of the men beat you senseless until I do!" Aenin turned to see Honmund calling to him from the side, thankful that he could get his mind off of the pathetic lot he had to beat into shape figuratively and literally speaking. "Thank Dibella's ass, yes. What is it?" "How is it going with those people? Remember, I need them to be competent, not crippled for life due to training injuries," Honmund said, half-jokingly. "Anyway, I need a report on how the various groups have performed lately. I've been ill, so... You get the point." He hadn't been sick, not really, but it was a good an excuse for not being present for a few days as any. A few of his old crew walked by, putting their fists to their chests as a sign of respect. "Hmm well if it's competence you're looking for you're out of luck for now. This lot here's gonna need a lot of work. Lucky for you I've dealt with their kind before in the Legion. Gimme a week or so. They'll be...competent. At best. The rest however are performing as to be expected and are satisfactory. How have you been anyway? People are starting to talk." said Aenin. People in fact hadn't been talking. Aenin knew that they knew better than to start gossiping about Honmund. He likely knew that himself, but he thought he'd let the idea go so he would understand the urgency of letting them know he was fine regardless. Lest anyone even get the slightest funny idea. "And the groups around Skyrim? I assume these recruits are from them?" Honmund raised an eyebrow at the man. He hadn't answered the second question right away for once. Why? Then Honmund mentally shook his head. Probably just a common mistake. He needed to stop reading so much into every single detail about the people around him. He'd end up paranoid. "And," he continued, in a more hushed tone. "I need to know if there are any rumors, any at all, that would be of interest to me going around." "Some of them are from Skyrim, aye. Not all of them. Likely just common bandits looking to join a better gang. The groups around the area are doing okay in certain parts. The heaviest bandit activity is in the reach and Falkreath hold. Falkreath hold recently had a dramatic drop from during the war but was steadily increasing again. Likely due to all the woodland and caves. Easy to hide. So they're concentrating their efforts there, killing groups or absorbing them into ours. As for the Reach...well...the forsworn are a dangerous lot. No way we're getting any of them to join us and they know the land very very well. Hunting them out will prove troublesome. But they're not common bandits so its to be expected. As for rumors, no rumors but you need to show the men you're alright so there aren't any. Forgive my deception. Just trying ta shake you into gear." said Aenin, hoping he wouldn't mind him taking it upon himself to help. Right, he thought to himself, as he regarded Aenin's behavior. As much as he hated to admit it, he wasn't sure he'd be able to control a group so large, with so few incidents as they had had, without this guy. He seemed to be able to keep the people in line with little effort. But he is wrong. There is something going on in this camp, unless Frei is a liar. "Any specifics on what they are doing? You know we can't draw too much attention to us just yet. Any kidnappings, or attacks on settlements or army caravans are to be punished severely. I also heard rumors about one of the generals moving through the Reach. Make sure no of ours attack them." "Well, there was one incident...A couple of Stormies caught a small group of five of our men stealing one of their shipments. The soldiers were killed and fed to a troll to throw off suspicion. They left the shipment for good measure. The one in charge of the group had them sent here. They're bound and waiting for you to dish out the punishment. I'd thought you may want it done personally." "Hmm," Honmund nodded to himself for a moment. "No. I'd like you to take care of it. Burn them. And make sure to send some of the people here to the groups out there. That should take care of thoughts of disloyalty for a time to come." "One more thing, Aenin," he continued, after a moment or so of silence. "Prepare a raiding party. I think it is time that we added the Mistwatch Bandits to our group, don't you think?" Aenin smiled, happy that he was gonna get some killing done today after all. Raising his hands revealing two small flame spells in the palm of his hands, Aenin nodded his head in approval. "Of course, right away." Aenin closed his hands dispelling the spells in his hands, then made his way to the sorry sons of bitches that were stupid enough to screw up.

Eduard Laenius, Jon- Eduard's House, Dawnstar, Night Eduard arrived at his home, eager to review what had happened at the sanctuary. "Jon, you up?" "Of course." "Good, we've got things to talk about." "Alright then, why don't we get to talking?" "Sure thing," Eduard said as he took a seat across from Jon. "Well, as you know, I paid the local family around here a visit." "And how did that go?" "Well, as expected, they offered me a place in their family." "And what did you say?" "For all intensive purposes, I accepted the offer." "So quickly? What had you so into their family?" "At first, I was as indecisive about joining as you figured I would be. However, I met someone who perked my interest." "And who might that be?" "Jak Secunia." "Jak? Right! I had completely forgotten about that! Someone had mentioned in passing that he was invited to join them, but I never thought anything of it. That certainly does change things! How is that crazy trapper doing?" "You knew Jak? I'm not surprised. Anyways, he's doing... alright. He isn't the most normal, or sane, person. But if that's what I'm looking for, I'm probably in the wrong place." "That is very true. As for knowing Jak, yes. I knew him for a short time. He's a good enough guy, provided you keep an eye out for traps. Like you said, a little crazy. Other than that though, he's a genius. His ability to build traps will certainly be talked about long after he passes." "That's for sure. I was just getting started when I heard the tale of what he did to that man near Bruma. It had to have taken days to get that trap perfected. All to kill just one man. He's dedicated, that much is certain." "I can pretty much guess now why you jumped on the opportunity to join. Although... there is the initiation, right?" "Right." "Who is it?" "A man named Kelvyn. He'll be leaving town tomorrow night, which is when I figure I'll nab him." "Kelvyn? I used to know a Kelvyn who was pretty hated for stealing from his group. Last I heard he went north to hide from them. What a coincidence it would be, right?" "That would be quite the coincidence, Jon. Now, as for where I should be tomorrow night." "Actually, why don't we discuss where you'll be tomorrow. Around 6:30, to be precise." "What? Why then? What aren't you telling me?" "Livia came over. Apparently while you have been trying to see what the family is all about, she has been meeting and greeting around here. Not only that, she seems to think that she has found someone that would be perfect for you." "You can't be serious. She's trying to hook me up?" "Pretty much. At this point though, she's just introducing you two to each other." "Well... hopefully she's cute at least. Did you catch the girls name by chance?" "Karita. From what I understand, she's a great cook." "Wait, where am I meeting her?" "Livia's house. Apparently Karita will be preparing dinner. Like I said, great cook." "This all falls at a pretty inconvenient time. From what I've gathered, Kelvyn will leave tomorrow night. At around 7:15." "That has the potential to be a problem." "You're damn right it does. I can't blame Livia though. She couldn't have known that I would be right back into work. I'm going to have to make something out of nothing I suppose." "I guess if there is one good thing in all of this, it is that Livia lives near the border. Shouldn't be a far walk to catch up with Kelvyn." "What about Livia's house? I haven't really been around it, other than visiting her. You were the one who looked at it with her. What's the layout?" "I'll have a layout for you by morning." "Alright then. We need a plan for me to get out of there when the time comes." "Couldn't you just say you have to go?" "I don't want Liv to start looking in to what I'm doing. Besides, what if the girls actually decent? Most of Livia's perfect matches are anything but that, but I'm not going to throw out the possibility." "Always looking for a good woman to bed, aren't you? Some things never change." Eduard laughed. "We'll see Jon. Anyways, what's the plan for getting me out?" "To be honest, I have no clue. I can plan an assassination in my sleep. But fooling your sister? I'm going to need some time." "Alright. We have to figure this out though." "For sure. We should have time to do that tomorrow though. As well as plan the assassination. And what you will wear," Jon said with a light laugh. "This is going to be more dicey than the time we pissed off that den of thieves back by Chorrol." "Oh my! I remember that! And if my memory serves me, it was you, not us, who angered those thieves. You hooked up with the leaders daughter, right?" Eduard laughed. “Oh yeah, that was my fault wasn't it?" "It was! And that wasn't even all you did, and I mean that quite literally!" "Oh come on! How was I supposed to know that was his wife! I can't be blamed. She came onto me. Besides, you didn't exactly help things out once things got tense." By now both Eduard and Jon were laughing about their misadventure. "To my credit, he had a very nice bow. And dagger. And dinner." "Great timing too. Stole it right as he figured out I had slept with every female member of the family. We never ran faster than we did then." "Didn't you hook up with his daughter again some time after that?" "Yes I did. Good times." "Probably the stupidest thing I've ever done. But yes, I must admit, it was a lot of fun. After we made sure that we were going to survive, that is." "Yeah, it was all my idea. I kind of dragged you into that. On the bright side, everything worked out." "Very true. Anyways, I'm going to head to bed. We can speak of past adventures again soon hopefully." "Hopefully. Good night Jon." "Good night Eduard." Both Eduard and Jon went to sleep. They were going to need it if they were to have any chance of navigating the next day.

Velan Quintus- Fort Ash, Morning Velan awoke, slightly disappointed to begin the day. I guess there is a first time for everything. "Tribune." "Yes?" "We are ready to begin as soon as you are." "Well then, let's not waste any time," Velan said as he finished putting on his armor. Velan walked outside to see ten recruits. Velan took note of some general features. Eight men, two women. Six Imperials, two Nords, and two Bretons. Two of them aren't paying attention... "Quaestor, the two on the left..." Velan whispered. "I'm on it," the Quaestor replied as he walked over to the two recruits who weren't paying any attention. "You two here to be soldiers?" "Uhh... Yes," one of the recruits replied softly. "Then start acting like it! We've got lots to do, and the Tribune and I would like to get started." "Yes sir." "Alright then. Tribune, would you like to begin?" "Yes, thank you. Recruits, listen up! From the looks of things, we have a lot of work to do. You've obviously proven that you can make good decisions, as you all have joined the Legion. It's my job to mold you all into soldiers. Now if you are willing to do what I say without and give it all you've got, we should get along fine. If not, we are going to have problems. Actually, I'll rephrase that. You are going to have problems. With that said, is everyone ready to get started?" Most of the recruits replied in unison. "Yes sir!" Except for one. Velan heard one of the Imperial males mumble something to the effect of 'Whatever, this should be a piece of cake,'. You've got yourself a challenge boy. Velan and the Quaestor, Thorek, led the soldiers over to an empty circle. "Thorek, go ahead and tell them what they are doing." "On it." Thorek signaled for the rookies to pay attention. "Alright recruits, the Tribune wants to find out where everyone is at. To do that, we're going to have you fight." "Each other?" "No. You're going to fight me." "Really?" "Do I look like I'm joking? You're up first," Thorek said, pointing to one of the Nords. Dang, Thorek is pretty big. Hopefully these recruits are ready. The recruit stepped into the circle along with Thorek. They both grabbed wooden swords and assumed a ready stance. "Alright, begin!" The recruit began by throwing a hard blow towards Thorek's chest. The Quaestor easily blocked it though and countered with a strike of his own. To Velan's surprise, the recruit was actually able to avoid the blow. Then the recruit attempted to counter by swinging his sword upwards. Bad idea. As Velan thought, Thorek was anticipating the recruit to react as he did. The Quaestor sidestepped the swing, and planted the wooden sword in the recruits rib. The force of the blow knocked the recruit to the ground, where Thorek pounced on him. Not bad for a full on session with a Quaestor. The recruit seems to have good instincts. His decision making needs to be polished, as do his tactics and swordplay. "Alright! That's good. You! You're up next," Velan ordered, pointing to the female Nord. He took notes for each soldier as they faced off with Thorek. Female Nord: Very good for a recruit. Good on the spot decision making, and her swordplay isn't half bad. Her reactions aren't great, and she doesn't move fast or hard enough. Breton male: Ehh... Needs work. Breton male #2: Shows promise. Swordplay is pretty good, and the instincts are there. Needs to work on making the right decisions, and using better tactics. Imperial female: Extremely good for a recruit. Pushed Thorek to the limit. With a bit more polishing, she could be a fine soldier. Just then, he saw the one Imperial male from earlier take his place in the circle. "Thorek, hold up. He won't be fighting you." "Alright sir. May I ask who he'll fight then?" "Me." The recruit was obviously stunned as Velan stepped into the circle, grabbing the sword from Thorek. "Alright then... begin!" The recruit began not by making an offensive maneuver, instead shuffling around the exterior of the circle. He showed signs of good footwork, and was probably smart for not just wildly attacking. Interesting. Maybe he has better fighting abilities than manners. Velan decided to see if he couldn't draw the recruit into attacking. He thrust his sword toward the recruit's knee. As Velan had hoped, the Imperial took the bait. The recruit dodged the strike, and began to counter with his own. Rookie mistake. Velan easily blocked the strike, and decided to close the distance. He swung his sword toward the recruit's neck. The recruit was barely able to block the blow, before the second strike was on its way. The recruit sidestepped the strike, but tripped and fell while doing so. Velan didn't let the recruit recover from the mistake. He launched the Imperial's sword way outside of the circle with a thunderous kick. He then pointed his sword at the recruit's neck. "I believe that will be all for you." The recruit got up, obviously disappointed. "What are you disappointed about recruit? You lost? So what! If you are going to lose, do it here. I'd rather me wipe the floor with your ass, than have to wipe your ass off of the floor later. So get up, and quit sulking." "Yes sir!" As I thought. Just a little too overconfident. He did well for fighting me. If it wasn't for the experience difference, he may have had a legitimate chance. "Alright, that'll be it for me," Velan said, handing the wooden sword back to Thorek. "Alright! Let's finish this up recruits! You guys still have lots to do! Who's next?" As the next recruit stepped into the circle, Velan began to daydream a little bit about his first fight. ~~-~~--~~-~~ Velan was walking to the store to pick up some equipment his dad had ordered. Hopefully it isn't as heavy as last time. Who sends a 12 year old to pick up an entire suit of armor, along with a sword and shield? I had to make 2 trips! It builds character! Yeah sure dad. As he neared the store, he overheard some kids nearby. "Alright Ian! Time to pay up!" "I already told you, I don't have any money!" "Then you can just pay us back by working as a punching bag!" Ian? Oh, this isn't good. Velan rushed over to where he heard the commotion from. When he turned the corner, he saw Ian being cornered by three kids, all of which were older than himself. He recognized one of them. It was Sten. He was a fourteen year old Nord boy who always gave the younger kids trouble. Well, all of them except himself for whatever reason. Maybe it was because Velan looked like he was at least fifteen. I can't just let Ian get pummeled. I've got to do something. "Hey Sten! Over here! I've got some money. Why don't you come get it?" Sten turned over and looked at Velan. "Well if it isn't Velan. Look kid, why don't you just head out of here, and we won't beat the shit out of you." "Only if you let Ian go home." "That's not going to happen." "Then me and you have a problem." "No, you and my friends have a problem. Get him guys!" The two other kids rushed at Velan. As they did, he saw his opportunity. He ran full force into the kid on the left, knocking him hard into the ground. The kid on the right turned and tried to punch Velan in the face, but Velan caught the kid and thrust his knee in the boys stomach. Smack! Velan didn't even see Sten enter the fight, but he sure felt it. Sten had hit him right in the nose, causing it to bleed. He wasn't going to have time to wipe his nose though. Sten was already swinging at Velan's face again. What Sten didn't know though, was that he had pissed Velan off. Velan rammed his fist as hard as he could into Sten's stomach. The effect was immediate. Sten crumpled over like a falling tree. Velan was about to start pummeling the kid when Ian spoke out. "Velan! Come on, let's get out of here!" Velan hit Sten in the face one more time before getting up and running with Ian. "Why do we have to get out of here?" "Because, you'll get in trouble!" "What do you mean? They started it!" "Yeah, but still! What are you doing here anyways?" "I was going to pick some stuff up for my dad," Velan said as they stopped running. "You should go do that. I wouldn't want to keep your dad waiting!" As Velan wiped the blood off of his nose, he decided Ian was right. Velan's father wasn't a man to keep waiting. He rushed to the store, to pick up the equipment. ~~-~~--~~-~~ "Alright recruits! That will be it for training today! Get back to work! We'll see you again tomorrow!" The volume of Thorek's voice snapped Velan out of his little daydream. He had barely taken any notes on the rest of the recruits. None of them were that impressive was all that Velan remembered. "So, what did you think?" "Some better than others. They all need some work though." "I hear you. Well, that's all for training today sir. I'll see you tomorrow." "Looking forward to it Thorek." Velan walked off to figure out what he was going to do with the recruits the next day.

Trym Heart-Hand, Maggie Imperial City Nighttime Maggie made her way through the city streets, trying to keep her mind on what she needed to accomplish with the madams. It seemed a tired exercise, since Samuel would always have better information than her and faster, but she didn't trust him, not completely. Better to cultivate her own resources, even if they would always be limited. Perhaps even manipulated to let her see only what Samuel and Darius wanted her to see. She thought of Alef, and of the Dunmer's self-deprecating demeanor, no doubt meant to put Maggie at ease. It's what I would do, Maggie thought. The Golden Apple was at the edge of the Market District, to catch the wealthy merchant traffic. As she left it, Maggie decided to have a look in some of the magic shops to see if she might find one of Skjari's relics or someone who knew of such things. Her eye was caught by a street performer, who was keeping colored glass balls spinning in the air that caught the rays of sunset. Maggie paused to watch. He was using alteration magic to complement his act, but it was still a beautiful display. Trym nodded to the two people he had brought with him as they observed the girl from afar. This might not be the best idea, but without better sources, he migth as well try to see where it went with her. The only problem was to make sure she'd come with him. He could try to kidnap her, but... Well, the Imperial Guard might have a problem with it, as cowardly as they usually appeared. And if he just walked up to her, it might give her backlash. After a moments hesitation, he made up his mind. It was better for all if he approached her without appearing to be a threat. if that didn't work, he'd have to consider the other option. "Ma'am? Could we have a word with you?" Trym laid a hand on her shoulder as soon as he came close enough. "I don't mean to alarm you, but the Vigil might need your help." Maggie turned, and glanced the man up and down with the typical coolness of nobility. "The Vigil? My, that sounds important. What sort of vigil?" She stood rooted where she was, among the crowds. "The Vigil of Stendarr, Ma'am," Trym held out his Amulet of Stendarr. "We have reason to think you have information that would be invaluable to our cause here in the Imperial City. And, if need be, we can offer protection in return." "The god of mercy. I see. I am not aware of your order, sir, nor what authority you possess, nor why I should need your protection. You are...?" "My name is Trym Heart-Hand, Keeper of the Imperial Isles Chapter of the Vigil of Stendarr. It is my charge to lead our Order's efforts here in the Imperial City," with a hint of pride he relayed his position. Not a day ago he had received a letter that rose his position to Keeper, meaning he finally had the official support of the rest of the Order in his efforts. "Our Order has been around since the aftermath of the Oblivion Crisis, so I am surprised someone of your station haven't heard of us. We often help the Imperial Guard and the guards around the Empire in hunting more dangerous creatures than they are used to. While we aren't included in the Guild's Act, we have considerable influence with the law-enforcers in the Empire. If you would come with us, we can explain it further. You have my word that we will not harm you, on the platemail of my ancestors in the Fatherland." The countess paused, seeming to consider this reply. "One cannot be too careful, Trym Heart-Hand. You understand. I am often approached by people- not such important people as yourself, to be sure- wanting something of me, and it is not so very hard to find an amulet such as yours. Very well, we must all do our part for the city watch." She glanced around, and saw a tavern that seemed well-traveled, called The Laughing Fox. Gesturing at it, she said, "Come then. I will hear what you have to say." "Please, refrain from needlessly flattering speech. As you said, one cannot be too careful these days, and I'd hate to get the impression that you are trying to appeal to my ego. Would make me question whether or not you are being honest with me. Now, I hope you don't mind following us to our headquarters? It shouldn't take long to get there, but it will make it a lot safer to talk." Trym gestured in the direction he had come from, which happened to lead in the same direction as she had went with Samuel the same night as the assassination of the Emperor Motierre. And, according to a map in the First Edition, would eventually lead to Sideways Cave. Samuel seemed to have told the truth about these people. Thinking about what the countess had said, there was something that didn't quite add up in Trym's mind. If she was to be so careful, why hadn't she tried to ask more questions to establish who he was? Other than presenting himself and claiming to be a Keeper of the Vigil of Stendarr, he hadn't showed her anything that would back up his position. Then again, he didn't believe she hadn't heard about the Vigil either, and, other than some reports about vampires in Skyrim, no one he had heard about had ever tried to impersonate them. Who would? Only thing to gain from that was to be asked to cure diseases and fight dangerous monsters. "This tavern will do nicely," Maggie answered in a pleasant but firm tone. "I said I will hear what you have to say. That is more courtesy than I would normally give to a stranger on the street." Her smile warmed a bit. "I ask only that you give me a good story in trade. You must have some, in your line of work. Since you know me, you know that is my hobby. Fair enough?" His eyes narrowed. The tavern. Really? Maybe she was more cautious than he first assumed. But it could still present a problem. A big one; if his suspicion was right, whoever was watching over her might be close by. Their temporary stronghold, as limited as it was, would have been a much safer option for both parties here. Yet, the Vigil, without official recognition by the Guild's Act, had no authority to force the issue. It seemed he had no choice, and it was better than not getting to talk to her instead. "Fine, Ma'am, the tavern it is. Lead the way then. And don't try anything. Even in the dark we'll be able to see you, should you try to lose us. We are trained in alteration magic, among other things." "Lose you?" Maggie laughed and began walking towards the tavern, keeping the Vigilant always in sight. "Now, sir, you have piqued my interest. A phrase straight out of an Inspector Trebian novel. Donata is a bit heavy on the 'it was a dark and moonless night' melodrama, but I do enjoy her books." She paused in her chatter as they entered the tavern, and chose a table in a quiet corner. As she sat down, Maggie continued, "Do you know, I believe I may have confused you with the Knights of Stendarr. Or was it Paladins of Stendarr? So many knightly orders these days. Now, tell me. What is it that yours does exactly?" "We are not a knightly order, Ma'am. The essence of our purpose is to hunt beasts, like daedra, vampires, lycanthropic creatures and anything else that draws its power from the corrupting power of the daedric. We are independent from the Temple of Stendarr.” "Were you involved in that business in Skyrim recently? The Dawnwatch, I believe..." Maggie glanced up as the waitress approached and ordered a ginseng tea, but had to settle for alkanet. She used the opportunity to glance casually around at the patrons, not knowing whether she hoped to see Samuel there, or feared to. The hunter on his own was bad enough. If the Order had abandoned her, or were on the brink of doing so... Such thoughts could not help her. She waited, concentrating on the necessary illusions, which with the sharp eye of the Vigilant must necessarily be natural ones. "I lost my friends and lover in the Skyrim 'business', if that is the sort of story you want to hear in exchange for your cooperation, when the Volkihar sacked the Hall of the Vigilant." His reply was short and his tone was far from pleasant. Not because of the voice itself, which was a tad deeper than most people in these parts and was generally pleasant to listen to, but because of the underlying hostile tone it had. Sitting between the three of them, with no obvious way to run on a moments notice didn't exactly make the situation better. Sugarcoating this was out of the question, he thought. So she better get used to it. "I'm so sorry," Maggie replied with sympathy, or what sounded like it. In reality she cared not a whit what the Volkihar had done to these people. Would that they had got this one, too. "No, that is not the sort of story I had hoped for. Perhaps we should simply get straight to your business. What brings you to Cyrodiil, and why does it concern me?" "The events at the Hall of the Vigilant is what brings me here. You're a smart girl, you can figure out exactly what questions I am about to ask." "You are impertinent, sir. I like games and stories well enough, but as you yourself imply, this must be serious or you would not be here. Do you mean to say that the Volkihar are active in Cyrodiil, as well?" She paused, then sat back in her chair with a little knowing smile. "This isn't about Camille, is it? By the Nine, such a stir over a little book." "The Volkihar are gone, the Dawnguard made sure of that. But there is still The Order, here in Cyrodiil. You're the count of Skingrad's daughter, a county that has a shady reputation among my kind. Lots of stories about vampires in the city..." The way he answered, she could read that if she didn't do something to appease him he might take serious offense to her stalling. And if the spell Samuel had shown her was any indication, that could lead to the reveal of her nature. Spells that only affected the undead and vampires... useful tools for anyone who hunted them. "And you believe I have information about this 'Order.'" She paused, and sighed. "Very well. I have no idea why you are applying to me for this instead of to my father, but I did research the stories about vampire clans in preparation for writing Camille and I am aware of the rumors about Skingrad. Perhaps you wish me to make discreet investigations of someone, and think that my position as royal advisor could be of use?" The last was a reminder that she was not simply a novelist nor even just a count's daughter. "I believe, if you care about something as silly as belief, that you came across something while doing your research. What I want is for you to tell me what that is right now, without evading the point any further." As a reaction to what she could only see as his anger, he suddenly let out a burst of the same light Samuel had showed her form his body. It didn't look intentional, and it luckily never reached her; it stopped a few inches from his skin. For a split second everyone in the bar looked at them, before they turned away. Probably thinking it was better to not get involved. Maggie regarded the man with a flash of anger. "Are you threatening me, Trym Heart-Hand? In front of many witnesses? This is not Skyrim. Your demands may produce results in the barbarian wilderness, but in the Heartlands we are accustomed to more subtle give and take." She looked around as if to assure herself that no one was listening. In a low voice she said, "It is not safe here. You should come meet me in the Emperor Way gardens. If your credentials are good, there shouldn't be a problem with the royal guard." Once more Trym's eyes became narrow as he stared at her, but after a moment or two spent in silence, he got to his feet. "We'll be watching you, Ma'am. I will give you one week to come up with some relevant information, or else I might... I don't think I need to tell you what happens if you are harboring the ones who needs to be purged." With that, he and his friends left the bar. ** Samuel looked around the garden. The blade was planted in the ground, waiting for Rose to return, which now haunted his mind. She should have been here already, if his calculations had been right. And they always were. She was not likely to turn on him anytime soon, she seemed to be aware that she needed him, even though he suspected that she did work to make her own network. Something to be proud of, to be sure. If she succeeded, she had learned something just there. But that was not what occupied him at the moment. She was late. She was never late, except this time. Something else had to have been introduced to the equation. The surprise she'd get when she found her guards might have a stronger impact than he planned. ** Maggie sat for a full minute after the Vigilant left her, looking casual to even a trained observer's eye, though her mind was racing. She had had to offer the hunter something. In this next meeting, she would have to give him something specific, not simply vague rumors which could easily be waved off. What could she give him? Not what. Whom. She knew this Nord's type. He would not relent until he had blood. This one also had a personal vendetta. In the past, the Order had offered up ferals as meat to such dogs, but Maggie knew of no reports of feral activity in the city. Lorgar was too close, too vital to the empress. Her family was out of the question. So was Julia, her publisher, who'd been the closest thing to friend to her. Samuel... He would be a great loss to the Order. If it came down to a choice, her father would put her on the balance with the information broker and Maggie had no doubt that she would be the one found wanting. She also had no doubt that if it came to his own survival, Samuel would give her up without a second thought, and had the power to make it seem like the Vigilant hadn't learned the information from him. Almost, Maggie's eyes welled again as they had that afternoon with the spymaster. Did you think you would come to the Imperial City and find only enemies? She had asked that of Lorgar, but hadn't thought to ask it of herself. With a start, Maggie realized that she had agreed to meet Samuel at her house that evening for blade practice. He could be watching her, and would not believe that she had simply forgotten. She had the eerie feeling that even her thoughts were not private. Very well, guardian. He wanted to see how well she could control herself. Now would be the best time to prove it. She got up and paid the barkeeper, saying with a laugh, "These mages. Always wanting to demonstrate their latest tricks..." Then Maggie went out into the street in the direction of her house.

Dales, and Alef, Night, The Blooming Rose Dales was extremely nervous, timid, shy, and downright worried. Mostly due to the "establishment" she had walked into. She was clad in a expensive pink dress, with a scarlet cloak and hood partially obscuring her face. The smell of roses and other fragrances where thick in the air. She walked to the front desk, and asked the lady, who looked like the "madame", in an extremely shy and somewhat quiet voice, "Ummmm....excuse me?" "Yes, how can I- Ah!" the woman behind the counter let out a gasp, quickly trying to silence herself with her hands. Once she had gotten control of her outburst, she continued, whispering and with a frantic bow. "Your Majesty! It is- an honor to meet you. I'm afraid Tanie is out right now- but I'll do what I can to help you- and don't worry- we're the very Souls of Discretion." "I-" She couldn't get the words out properly, this was so perverted and weird to Dales. She took a few breaths to calm her insane nerves, before saying once again, "I...would like to "hire" one of your girls." "Of course, your Majesty," the woman replied, still seeming a little feint about the visitor she had. She leaned in, still whispering. "I presume- and I apologize if I presume too much- that you want to keep this visit a secret?" "That would be greatly appreciated." "Then it will be a little harder to arrange, your Majesty, since rumors fly fas- Aleffea, can you come over here for a moment?" The woman behind the counter stopped herself as the entrance door opened and a young-looking Dunmer woman came in, dressed in a black silk dress. "Naturally, Ma'am. How can I be of service?" "Well," the woman gestured for her to lower her voice. "We have a... difficult client- if you forgive me that description, your Majesty- to deal with. She wants to hire someone, but keep it under wraps... and I thought that... you know..." The Dunmer, Aleffea, looked a little confused for a moment, before she peeked under the hood Dales wore. "I see... It would be my pleasure. Shall we?" She gestured to a door that led to a staircase, while still looking at Dales. Dales nervously looked at the dark elf woman, who looked ravishingly beautiful in her own way. Dales gulped a mouthful of air, before timidly entering the doorway, and started to climb the stairway, Through a hallway Aleffea led Dales, eventually coming to the room she had asked to get to use. It was the same room she had witnessed the discussion between Samuel and 'Maggie'. Samuel had placed some soulgems in the walls, ensuring that as long as they persisted, the room would be completely soundproof. Locking the door behind her, she took a hold of Dale's shoulders from behind and whispered into her ear. "What is it that the Majesty desires? I can provide... almost everything..." "Ehhh..." Dales said, with her back stiffening at the dark elf's touch. She blushed a deep shade of crimson, "I dont know what to ask...I've never requested "service" like this before..." "Of course, your Majesty," she started to massage her shoulders, with a playful laughter. Slowly Dales was being pushed towards the bed. "Why are you so tense? You are here to relax, no?" This feels...good... As dales shoulders were being massaged, her body began to loosen up, and relax. Dales herself was feeling...very good. "I suppose..." She said in a dreary voice, "Close your eyes, your Majesty," Aleffea said before she pushed the young Empress down on the bed. "I'll take care of everything..." ** Dales lay on the bed, completely naked with her clothing scattered across the ground. Her mouth was drooling slightly, as the dark elf to her right playfully nibbled on her fingers, "That...feels...great..." Aleffea stopped what she did and crawled up into to the young Empress' body. Of the many tidbits of information she had let slip was that she was weak for snuggling. If she played her cards right, this alone should make her talk a little more. Her hand started to stroke Dales' hair affectionately. "It's my Dunmer blood, dear. I'm always warm," with a kind tone she continued to stroke her hair and put her arm around her. She had to admit, this was far from an unpleasant way to spend her evening. "Is something bothering you, your Majesty? You seem a little tense, even now..." "Nothing really,,,i'm just worried, I'm being pressured by many people to marry...I admit it's extremely important to have an heir to the throne...but very stressful to think about me having to have a husband..." "I think I understand... But maybe it won't be as bad as you make it out to be? I mean- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have- please forgive me, your Majesty." it was important to not seem to eager or that she didn't know her place, but she also needed to place her bet. By reputation, the Empress seemed to prefer shy people. Her displaying some of that, when talking about the Empress herself, looked to be the most secure bet. Dales smiled lightly, before turning around and placing a kiss on her lips . She gently switched positions, cradling the dark elf. She began to lightly feel her hair, "No it's all right, continue." "Wouldn't someone of your position have access to... 'services' and 'other' people, to surround yourself with outside the... marriage parts? I don't mean to- I'm sorry if I go to far- but if you fond someone who is willing to do it as a duty, while accepting your other side... Maybe I shouldn't have said something, I-" Dales interrupted her by plopping her thumb into Alef's mouth, and saying in a cool, gentle voice, "Suck on it..." Dales lightly squealed, "Your so cute Alef, like that..." She gently held her like a baby, and gently brushed out her hair as she sucked on her thumb. Dales smiled and said, "Maybe you would like to be my mistress?" Perfect, Alef thought to herself. Access to the Imperial Palace was useful. Besides, she could think of worse things to do with her talents. "I'd love to, your Majesty."

Just making sure before I start posting, is this the correct place to start?

Ita crazy, tomorrow I'll legally be an adult but damn I don't feel like one.

I won't be able to do much work tomorrow, gonna be turning eighteen.

Alrighty, @Witchking of Angmar I'll contribute as much of Chapter 3 as I can. Take a break man, you've done good work.

If you can link the end of where you left up now that we have internet again Ill help out.