Slow, cautious footfalls echoed throughout the chilly cavern, accompanied erratically by the crunch of ice and snow underfoot. The sound drew the attention of a group of skeevers toward the general direction of the source; one of the skeevers drew back, as if preparing to lunge.

A figure appeared in the stony corridor, and the skeever lunged at the figure. The figure was holding a long blade, however, and brought the sharp edge of the sword to pass through the skeever's side. It shrieked in agony and writhed on the ground, blood pooling on the icy stone beneath it.

The other skeevers rushed the figure, and were cut down one by one. The figure didn't even appear to be worried or frightened, more annoyed than anything. Most of the skeevers died from a single swing of the blade; those that survived joined the first in its situation, bleeding out and incapable of movement.

It was these survivors that the figure decapitated, ending their suffering. The final skeever to be slain had tried to escape, but its wound was too great and inhibited its movements. The figure could almost swear tears had come to the skeever's eyes, but surmised it was a trick of the dim light.

The figure sighed softly, the sound soft and feminine. The greatsword was shifted so the blood-stained blade could be cleaned off with a cloth, before it was returned to its spot at the figure's back. A moment later, a small stick was in the figure's hand, a cloth wrapped around the top; another moment, and the cloth was burning, providing some much-needed light.

The flame of the makeshift torch lit the figure's face, warmed her tanned skin. Dark brown, shoulder-length hair framed her face and hid her eyes from view, though she tucked several locks of hair out of her face. Her emerald eyes looked about carefully, making sure nothing else was going to ambush her now that she'd made herself even more visible. She eventually nodded to herself, and closed her eyes for a brief moment, taking the chance to relax.

A shiver overtook her, however, and she was on the move before long. Her scaled armor didn't provide the greatest protection against the cold, nor did the crimson linen cloak she wore, but they functioned well enough. She knew she had to keep moving if she was going to keep warm.

As she progressed through the cavern, she took note of the furniture that adorned the 'rooms' here and there. A table in one, a bookshelf in another... there were even beds dotted here and there. People used to live here, then - but it seemed as if no one else had moved in since. She hadn't found any bodies in the cavern, so she surmised that someone had come through and cleared the corpses out.

There were more skeevers further in, however. She didn't even bother drawing her sword, but rather bashed each one to death with the torch; the one skeever that managed to actually lunge at her found the burning tip wedged in its mouth, and tried to run away when it dislodged the torch from its mouth; she had stepped on its tail to keep it in place, however, and rammed the blazing tip against the skeever's back, causing it to shriek and writhe in pain. When it tried to whip around and bite her foot, she delivered a sharp kick to its head, knocking it unconscious.

She knew it was brutal, to treat the beasts as she was, but she also knew that they were trying to kill her, and she was being so brutal in self-defense. Of course, there was a twisted part of her that did delight in the cruel displays, but that was beside the point.

And yet, it had been that side of her that caused her to seek refuge in some cave in the middle of nowhere in the first place. She'd caused no small amount of trouble in the newly reconstructed Helgen, and had fled east to escape capture. Though she was sure she'd lost the guards, she had nonetheless stopped inside the first cave along the road she'd seen. She would stay here a while longer, at least until she was certain she could slip out and into the Rift, where the reach of Falkreath's guards would not extend.

That, of course, meant she had to stay attentive. Just because she was sure she'd lost the guards didn't mean she had. For all she knew, they could be coming upon the cave's entrance, and would be upon her before long. The thought of being arrested was not enticing, and she pushed ahead to avoid it.

Eventually, an odd sight greeted her, certainly not something she'd been expecting to see. A tall stone statue of a man stood before her. In his left hand was held what appeared to be a mask with two curved horns; his right hand rested on the back of what appeared to be a dog. The woman stepped closer, glancing about. There were offerings of many kinds adorning the base of the statue, suggesting people had been here recently. She had no idea, then, if that meant others were nearby or not. Skeevers were one thing; people were another.

Once she decided she was quite alone, she lowered her guard and stopped in front of the statue. She looked up at it, examined the craftsmanship closely.

"I promise I won't bite, mortal," rang out suddenly, making her jump. Her head snapped this way and that, searching for the source of the voice. The same voice laughed at her reaction, which in turn irritated her. "In front of you."

She refused to believe the statue was speaking to her, but she looked up at it nonetheless.

"Very good."

"Who... are you?" she asked softly, voice cracking from disuse. She cleared her throat, and took a few steps back so she wasn't looking up so sharply.

"I could ask the same of you. Who are you to approach one of my shrines so casually? And with no offering, at that..." Several 'tsk' sounds rang out now. She wasn't sure yet if the voice was echoing through the chamber... or in her mind.

"I didn't even know this... 'shrine' existed," she retorted. She searched briefly for a place where she could set her torch, to keep the statue lit and yet free up both of her arms.

"Desolate hole that this is, I'm not surprised. You're clearly not a follower, then. A refugee, perhaps? A lost villager? Or... do you fancy yourself the 'greatest bandit to ever live'?"

These last words both irked and stunned the woman. He was half-right in that: she was a bandit. She had never considered herself 'the best', but she did definitely think she was better than most other bandits she'd met.

"Well, at any rate, unless you have an offering for me, I'm afraid you'll just have to leave. I don't tolerate loitering in my shrine."

"And what sort of 'offering' do you want?" she said. She was disliking this... man? The voice, at any rate. He was quite arrogant, quite... she couldn't find the right word.

"Take a look around, mortal, and figure something up."

She did so. The most common offering was gold, though there were also pieces of what looked to be salted meat here and there, too. There was also a steel dagger, mostly hidden from her view, but still visible nonetheless. She decided gold was probably the way to go, and fished out her coin purse with a sigh and a grumble. She grabbed a fistful of coins and set the pile at the base of the statue. She wondered idly if he'd be offended if she took the coins back once their exchange was through.

"Money, eh? No weapon to spark my imagination?"

The only weapon she had on her was the greatsword at her back. She reached back to grab the hilt protectively.

"No one will ever take my blade from me," she snarled. "The only way I'll give it to anyone is to drive it through their chest and end their life."

"A mortal of action, then? And here I thought you'd be boring, one for talking philosophy and all that rot."

She couldn't tell if he was mocking her or not.

"So, what can I do for you? What is your heart's desire?"

She scoffed at these words. Like she was going to tell him that.

"You doubt I could help you get anything you want? Do you even know who I am?"

"You never introduced yourself, idiot," she snapped.

"Watch your tone, mortal. I am Clavicus Vile, and with a snap of my fingers, I could snap your spine, break your neck, cave in your skull... or perhaps turn you into something small and defenseless, like... a baby skeever."

His words left her stunned. She'd heard of Clavicus Vile before - nothing particularly good. The Daedric Prince of power and deals, notorious for striking up deals that mortals would regret.

"Well? Were you just donating your coin for the sake of it?"

"...How do I know you can give me what I desire?" she finally asked. "How do I know this isn't some... hoax?" It wasn't impossible that someone was nearby, pretending to be Clavicus Vile.

"You want a demonstration, then? I can oblige you that, I suppose. Wish for something, anything. I'll make it come true - just this once, for nothing in return."

The offer was enticing, but she knew to make sure it was small-scale, something she could bear witness to in the shrine. Thoughts of piles of gold filled her mind, but she pushed them down; it was impractical to wish for such when she had no means of getting the coins out in a single trip.

"Bring me that prick who got me into trouble in Helgen," she finally said. "I have... unfinished business with him."

The voice didn't say anything in response. At first, the woman thought the voice was plotting their escape - but then she saw the unmistakable wavering of the air in front of her. What appeared to be a violet portal opened, and stretched out until it was spherical and almost as tall as she was. She heard the sound of feet hitting the stony cavern floor, followed by a slew of curses from a man with a thick Nordic accent. When the portal faded, there was a Nord standing in front of her, shaggy blonde hair down at his shoulders, ice blue eyes narrowed at her.

"You!" he snapped, pointing an accusing finger at her. "I'll have your head for-"

This was all the proof she needed. Clavicus Vile was indeed speaking to her, this was indeed his shrine, and a realm of possibilities awaited her. Her mind began to reel from the potential, but she caught herself. She settled instead for slugging the Nord, causing his head to whip to the side and interrupting his tirade. While he recovered from the blow, she grabbed his collar and pulled him onto the tips of his toes with one hand.

"The only head that will go missing... is yours," she hissed angrily. She swung the torch against the man, battering him with the blazing implement. His clothes began to catch aflame, and before long, he was trying frantically to put the flames out. The distraction was more than enough for her; she was able to toss the torch aside, swing her greatsword around to her front, and thrust the tip of the blade through his gut.

Blood spurted from the wound and trickled from his mouth. He looked up at her, fear starting to overcome him.

"Because of you, I had to run away," she snarled. She twisted the greatsword, causing him to cry out; blood flowed freely from the wound now. She planted her foot against his chest and kicked him away from the blade, knocking him against the statue of Clavicus Vile. "Because of you, what should have been a simple job in Helgen turned into a fight for my life, followed by flight. All you had to do, bastard, was uphold your end of the bargain..." She lifted the greatsword over her head briefly. "I don't suffer traitors," she snapped, bringing the blade down. The sharp edge, swung at a diagonal angle, sliced through his neck effortlessly, severing his head from his body.

"I trust that demonstration was sufficient enough." Clavicus Vile sounded rather amused now.

"Absolutely." She buried the tip of her greatsword in the Nord's chest, and reached for her coin purse once more. "You'll want more of an offering-"

"You have given me another already. Or is the dead Nord's corpse truly of so little value to you? No, this offering is far, far better than any amount of coin any mortal could possibly offer me. Mortal... you are interesting. Might you be willing to hear me out?"

"Depends. What's in it for me if I do?" she replied coolly. She'd dealt with 'hear me out' types before; they typically wanted her to do dangerous things, just so they could try and stab her in the back when she wanted her promised reward.

"Your heart's desire, of course. That which you long for the most, which you refuse to speak of to anyone."

She shifted uneasily. Did he know what it was she longed for...?

"Unlike other cretins you've dealt with in the past, you'll find me to be trustworthy, mortal. Do right by me, and I'll return the favor for you. Now... as it turns out, there's an issue I'd like to address, but... regrettably, I can't do it myself. The whole 'barrier between realms' thing, and all that... but you, mortal... you could act in my place."

"Explain first," she said, crossing her arms.

"I was getting there, mortal. Don't push your luck. Several years ago, I was... we'll say 'thwarted' by another. I've longed to get revenge for that... but I've never had the chance to exact my revenge until now. Well, that is, of course, assuming you agree to help me."

"By who?"

"Someone with a death wish. No one stands against me for very long without suffering consequences. It's no fun to simply kill them, however; I want them to know that their suffering is because of me, because of what they did to me."

"Where do I fit into this?"

"Simple. You are a mortal, and have access to the offending mortal that I do not. All you need to do is what I tell you, so as to help me get my revenge. Help me, and I shall help you."

She had a feeling she was being toyed with. He was Clavicus Vile, after all. While she knew he had power - he'd demonstrated it, after all - she also knew that he could very well string her along, dangle a proverbial carrot in front of her just so she'd do his bidding. She'd never worked for anyone who refused to give her any payment or compensation upon completing certain... milestone-esque tasks.

"You are a bandit, mortal. You are part of a group of bandits. They trust you, for the most part. The first thing I want you to do for me... take over your little group of bandits. Become the leader, and I shall tell you what comes next."

She blinked at this. That wasn't quite as hard as she thought it'd be; she'd been contemplating doing just that for some time now, but hadn't given it serious thought.

"What does this have to do with your plan, Vile?" she finally asked, unable to figure out why it mattered.

"Quite a bit, as you will see in the not-too-distant future." A violet portal opened without warning in front of her, making her jump. She was only faintly aware of something hitting the ground with a dull 'thump'. When the portal closed, she found herself looking at a book. "Incentive," he explained, noting her confused expression.

She knelt down, picked up the book, and examined it. She opened the pages, noticed they were blank. She furrowed her brow, and looked it over.

"What's-"

"Finish the task I've given you, and I'll let you know what that book is. So, mortal... do we have a deal? You help me exact my revenge, and I give you what you long for?"

She saw no reason to turn the offer down. True, there were the stories of past deals wrought with Clavicus Vile to consider, but she wasn't an idiot. She knew how to spot an unfavorable circumstance or deal a mile away. If he tried to pull a fast one on her, she'd know.

"We have a deal, Clavicus Vile," she said, clapping the book shut with one hand. "I'll serve you... for as long as it benefits me."

A.N. - Oh snap, new story! Oh snap, Clavicus Vile and some mysterious person have joined forces! Oh snap, this chapter doesn't make a world of sense!

It will.

Welcome to the story of Eventide, where old faces will be returning, new faces will be appearing, and some characters will be dying - permanently. All this leads up to something huge...

Don't want to say too much about this just yet, lest I spoil things. The next chapter will give a better understanding of the setting of Eventide.

I had been working on All In, had the next chapter almost completely finished...

And then my computer died. Well, not 'died' died, but what seems to be a virus wiped the OS from my computer, and corrupted the recovery partition on my hard drive. This recovery partition is what's supposed to repair/reinstall the OS if the computer runs into the issue. There is no disc I can use to recover; instead, I'd have to burn all the data I need for a recovery disc to 4 blank DVDs. Which I do not have. I am never buying another HP computer in my life, for any reason; I've had some issues in the past, but a virus slipping by Norton, stacked on top of all sorts of previous issues, just makes me not give a shit.

In the meantime, I'm using my old computer, an Acer. It's 5 years old, it works infinitely better than the HP ever did - albeit slower.

This, of course, means I've lost all progress on All In. I remember the basic gist of the next chapter, but what with the recent issue, I'm just feeling horribly disinclined to write ANYTHING. I almost didn't write this opening chapter for a new story.

Then there's the fact that I can play Skyrim on my Acer... but the graphics, the game lag... ugh. Sooo horrid in comparison to the HP. I've been playing Skyrim on my 360 instead, and there's no DLC there, no mods. It's been so... lackluster, so... DULL. The only way I foresee myself playing Skyrim on the Acer is to play as a stealth archer - which I do most of the time, but it removes the options of 'in your face warrior' or 'pew pew i'm a mage'. Seriously, the frame rate is so low, I couldn't even kill a FOX; the little bastard escaped from me, and in the time it took my computer to register 'oh, you're looking over here now?', the fox was gone.

It's probably cheaper to buy blank data DVDs for the recovery discs, but I'm seriously considering just buying a new computer altogether. HP has left a horrid taste in my mouth, and at this point, I'm trying to figure out why I haven't just smashed the damned thing on the pavement, or tossed it in the trash.

/endrant

Anyway, that's where my life's been. I similarly lost the Valentine's Day story I'd started, with Mia and Adalla... and I just couldn't bring myself to rewrite it on the Acer. By the time I decided I wanted to write, V-Day was done and gone.

I'll see what I can do on the Acer in the meantime, I guess.

-Spiritslayer