Disclaimer: I do not own any familiar characters, settings and/or mostly everything in this story, nor do I have the consent from Bethesda to write this. For all intended purposes, I merely wish to entertain and play with their storyline without claiming Bethesda's work as my own.


A/N: Hello to you people again! I got a lot of free time on my hands so I guess I should go into writing again :3

This story will be quite shorter (arounnddd 8-9 chapters less) than my first, TMTSTD, but I'm hoping it would be just as much (or hopefully more) enjoying. Also, this story also shares the same universe as TMTSTD and takes place many, many months before it's ending. Although this story, the storyline and the characters are independent from the former, I would suggest to read the first one to catch small glimpse of events that are taking place in my universe, as it would explain certain themes that surrounds this one as well. I can't explain everything in one go, so I'll just let my writing do the work.

This story is rated M just to be on the "sure" side of things.


Chapter 1: Another Day, Another Job Done

There had been many stories and legends spread throughout Skyrim. As vast as it was, none could miss out on one of these tales the bards have told. It could be as simple as hidden treasure from two lovers separated from each other, or evil entities lurking in the shadows of a quaint little town. Many were enticed by these rumors and people tend to seek them out for their own. Adventurers far and wide gathered to pursue the course; others failed miserably, but some also succeeded. Either way, there were lessons gained from all of it. Whether it was for the benefit of one's self, or leading to one's downfall, it had changed the fate of the small or the many depending on the weight of the outcome.

There was a tale though, that everybody knew. The prophecy of the Dragonborn. It had considered being one of the most talked about tales from tongues of gossipers and whisperers. Since the attack from Helgen, rumors spread like wildfire; just like that, the fate of all had changed drastically. The impasse of war dissolved as opportunity struck them like a lightning bolt. With the coming of the legend, they pulled many feats in order for them to gain the Dragonborn into their ranks. But, such as fate would consider it, the legend had to choose only one side…

Legends, as they called it, were very persuading. That conviction strengthened the hearts of the many in order for them to gain the upper hand against their enemies. As such, they brought about those things to theirs, as many as possible. Swords of exceptional quality, items of great importance; even proud soldiers and mercenaries were hired for the cause.

However, delving deeper within these folklores that have been tirelessly said, there was a secret that was kept hidden in the eyes of the many. None knows the truth, except for some worthy people in Markarth and its trusted companions.

This is also why I ventured into this foreign territory to explore the mysteries within…


"Hah!" An Orsimer bellowed within the streets of Markarth. A couple of bystanders took notice and tilted their heads towards the orc. He was holding up a book with his gruff hands, primarily a diary of a person whom they took care of. It was actually a request from the Hold's Jarl: to deal with a person who was threatening the safety of the Reach. This means the rewards were far beyond the norm of their grasp.

"Give me that." His fellow companion quickly snatched it off his hands. It may have been awkward to onlookers (and it captured the attention of everybody so quickly), but he was of Nord kin. To imagine a Nord and an Orc working together was quite baffling, especially in these troubled times. Sure that the Empire already accepted the kind of Orsimers to the favor of their services in the Imperial Legion, but this was clearly no Empire land. This was Skyrim; it ruled boiling blood of Nord men wanting their freedom, such as the civil war's concerned. They had each other's throats for months now, the Legion and the Stormcloaks, and none will tire unless the other simply gives it up.

"You'll ruin the proof of the deed." He sighed, almost as if guilty in continuing the conversation.

The Orsimer huffed in exasperation. "As if the blood on the cover hadn't already spoiled it." His intimidating glare could've spooked his companion then and there. Added with his towering height and his huge mass of muscles in his arms, everybody would. But he still remained complacent, as if he was already used to his ill-temperedness.

"Well, I don't know if you would take it as a complement, but everything you touch gets destroyed, Torguk." He replied.

The Orsimer only let out a grunt deep within his chest and moved forward.

Torguk was an orc with dark-green, leathery hide of a skin and always the fierce look on his yellow-pupil eyes. He had two large tusks on each end of his mouth, one was heavily crooked. He bore clan markings on his face, but his was not really a typical painting or dust etched on his face, like those of his kinsmen. His was more of a scar; markings purposely removed for some unknown purpose. It trailed from the corner of his eyelids to his cheek and then two more trails followed foot closer to his nose, like three teardrops from either sides of his face. A permanent teardrop.

His companion put the book on one of his many pockets of his fur armor. He tugged his trusty daggers from his waist and continued on.

"I say, I never expected the Jarl would lend aid on mercenaries like us. I thought it would be some of his delegates to do his bidding."

"If there's money, I don't care." Torguk said simply.

Maeric only shook his head in disappointment. Like his companion, he too was very different from his kin. Nords were supposed to be bulky and burly, made for war and all that. But he was quite thin and not really meant for fighting. What he lacks in strength though compensates with his cunning and agility. He's a well endowed thief; even the Thieves Guild knows about his infamous reputation, although he never thought of joining them.

The two were partner mercenaries. If professional brigands were needed to sack merchant caravans, steal from the rich or do a bit of cleaning, they're the ones summoned. Of course, with a hefty price. What they do though is a guaranteed success, as Maeric would've put it. They've never backed out on a task yet that has been given to them.

They were close to Understone Keep, Markath's stronghold. The city itself was renowned for its stone walls and ancient cultural structures. As they reached closer to the keep, they were instantly halted by the guards.

"None can enter the palace doors without permission from the Jarl."

Of course, Maeric thought.

If it were some common folk with common clothes, they would've been let through. With them wearing daggers and axes, it would be safe to assume that they were no mere civilians from the town. Nonetheless Maeric tried to persuade him.

"We're here under the request of the Jarl."

"Is there paperwork then?"

Torguk looked at his partner.

"No."

"Then you aren't allowed to enter."

"But we do—"

A person approached them from behind. The guards saluted at him. It was Raerek, steward of Markarth's Jarl.

"Excuse them." He waved his hand dismissively. "We never came here and you saw nothing. Understood?" He whispered softly to the guards.

The guards look appalled, but nodded in an instant.

"Come, this way."


"It is quite the predicament to see you both. I was just about to meet with the Jarl." He walked casually along the great hall of the Keep. "This way please." His voice echoed as he guided them along as they headed left.

In the entrance itself, one could already see the throne of the Jarl and judging by no one sitting there, the Jarl wasn't present at the moment.

Rows of guards were stationed at every corner and edge of the Keep itself. It was supposed to be somehow dull where none would've spoke, not even the guards or the servants. The closed walls somehow made every footstep echo throughout the great hall.

But today, it was different. The banners were taken from the storage and brushed cleanly to hang above the pillars of the Keep. Servants and workers were wandering about scrubbing, cleaning and making sure everything is perfect for the events for tonight. The whole Keep itself was bustling from the people that were in there.

No sooner than their tour (and ignoring most of their surroundings from then on), they headed the second floor and into the Jarl's chambers itself. The entrance was actually open, but a guard was stationed at it.

Dwemers are never fond of doors, are they?

Raerek nodded at the guard, which he also responded in return. He turned sideways, as if signalling them to pass through.

Inside they saw the Jarl, scribbling something in a parchment. Raerek let out a small cough to alert him. The Jarl turned around.

"Ah, Raerek." He then looked at the two mercenaries behind him. His eyes widened in surprise to see them both. "And you two. How fares the bounty?" He stood up and approached the group. He lent out a hand and Maeric shook it. He was the better one doing the discussions, anyways.

"The deed is done, sire. We have his journal to prove it." He pulled out the book from his pockets and lent it to him.

"Good, good. That hermit was a Forsworn conspirator and we couldn't afford taking chances with him."

"Yes. We have read a few — if you don't mind — of his chapters and what you say is true." Maeric emphasized.

"It's fine. I trusted you both did your job, and you've done it well. I'm thinking you'll be expecting the reward soon?"

Maeric looked at Torguk.

"Well, we don't have anything to do for tonight, and we really need the rest…"

"Then it's settled. In the meantime, I would like to invite you on the festivities later. To celebrate the victory for claiming Fort Dunstad."

Ah yes, the war.

For many years, the two factions have gone to a standstill. Maeric noticed that. Neither were giving up in the past, but ever since the arrival of the Dragonborn, the impasse was dissolved instantly. At first, the Imperials were in distraught as they've heard the news that the Dragonborn had joined the Stormcloaks. In the series of months, morale had been low and the chances deemed impossible already. In the events of the search of the Jagged Crown though, the most wonderful news arrived. It appears that the Dragonborn betrayed Ulfric (the Traitor King) and took the Crown for himself and made his way to Solitude. From that moment on, he became part of the Imperials and never wavered since.

"We will surely be there."

"Yes, yes," Raerik interrupted. "Now at the matter of hand, sire..." He nodded at the two.

And that was their cue to actually leave.


"Wouldn't that be great, Torguk?" Maeric's voice echoed throughout the halls as they were about to leave and head to Silver-Blood Inn. "The party, the drinks, the women. Oh, Divines know we at least earned this right to enjoy." He smirked.

"And I'll enjoy the mead here." Torguk replied.

"There you go, big guy." He let out a hearty laugh. "It's been a while since you actually pushed yourself to relish the free time we have."

Torguk only huffed. As they entered sunlight again, Torguk stretched out his systems and let out a yawn. He was feeling tired from the two months of no rest. Requests and bounties have sprung about one after another and they have no choice but to accept it. Thankfully, nothing really spurred at the moment and it was high time for them to just relax for a while.

"Yeah, I guess so too." Torguk mumbled in response.


At the same time…

"How is the preparation, Raerik?" Jarl Igmund asked his loyal steward, a worried look etched on his face.

"Absolutely well, sire. The guards are stationed everywhere and I'm sure that everything will go according to plan." The steward assured him.

"Good, good…" He fell in silence for a while, pacing back and forth in random intervals. It was only for a few moments until he spoke again. "Have you… talked to her yet?" His face was more anxious as to was before.

"Yes, Jarl Igmund. She was very pleased by the news that she could at least perform for the town tonight." He smiled at the Jarl.

"Very good… very good, indeed."


A/N: So, how was it? Reviews/Follows are always welcome and I'd like the opportunity to know all of your opinions about me or the story. Hope you enjoy! Next one will come out soon.