A/N: Okay, so this is Book 2... You've probably noticed that, overall, it isn't as long as Book 1. That's because I went off the rails and attempted to make the chapters longer. Tribunal is also much simpler than Prophecies. Since I split upthe three main quests into separate books, you have to realize that it's going to be longer or sharter based on what happens.

Well, enough of that. Onto my commentary. I have to say that I like this part a lot more than Book 1, since I not only could act like a BAMF, but had the power to back it up. I'm actually a fan of my treatment of Helseth (anyone who tries to kill me and fails is usually going to find themselves taking a nice long dirt nap). If you could read Kim's side of the story, you'd understand half the stuff that just gets a brief mention in my side.

Prologue – Retribution

Morndas, 1st Morning Star, 3E428

I walked up the path to Azura's shrine and knelt down before it. I was going on thirty years old, and I still looked like I was in my early twenties. My armor glinted in the evening light of dusk while I removed the helm from my head. It had taken only a couple of days to find the Daedric Face of Inspiration after I had consulted the maps I had been drawing over the past year and a half, working to find a blank area I had not thought to look.

"Hey, Azura. I'm sure that you know this by now, but I have the Dark Brotherhood trying to kill me. This is going to set off the events that will lead to Almalexia's death. I just thoug-" I stopped as my vision blackened and a memory played through my mind. It was of Almalexia. She was wearing a silver circlet with a multi-colored gem that touched the center of her forehead. Two swords were placed before us as a gift; one of the swords had fire covering the length of the blade, the other had electricity doing the same.

My vision came back and I began gasping for air as if I had been holding my breath underwater for minutes. I was also on my hands and knees. The swords were Trueflame and Hopesfire, which had been presented as wedding gifts by the Dwemer to both Almalexia and her husband Nerevar (my past incarnation). I had just remembered Nerevar's (or my) wedding day.

I slowed my breathing and tried to clear my head by shaking it. I failed though, like I always did when I experienced one of Nerevar's memories. Ever since I had realized what the dart meant, I had been plagued by periodic flashes of memories from my previous life. Every time I passed something familiar or thought of someone I knew, a memory would bubble to the surface.

"Welcome, Nerevarine." I heard the familiar voice of the Daedric Prince of Dawn and Dusk say behind me. I quickly spun around, instinctively assuming a defensive stance. Azura was standing there in her usual blue dress.

"I've been attacked by the Dark Brotherhood, who received the order from King Helseth. So please don't do that." I said, before standing up. I forced my muscles to relax.

"Why have you summoned me here?" The Daedric Prince asked me.

"I've been plagued recently by Nerevar's memories. Wh-"

"They are crucial in your quest, Karanmer, yet they are still incomplete. To regain your past in its fullest, you must retake the sword of fire you once held." It wasn't much of a riddle, despite the fact that I didn't fully know what my quest actually was. "You have the gift of foresight. As do the other two. Your visions thus far have been concerning your own destiny, now you shall truly come into the power that is yours." That doesn't sound good. I thought as Azura faded from view.

"Killian," I said, before I turned around and saw a flash of a figure in black. Fie, it's not Killian, I waited too long to end this. I pulled out a throwing dagger and called forth my magicka. White light flared from my hand and I quickly spun around, letting the dagger fly. It caught the Dark Brotherhood assassin in the neck and he fell quickly, which left the one last assassin I was sensing. Why have they been coming at me in pairs? Are they afraid that one isn't enough? I asked myself as I held out my hand. A shimmering Daedric longbow materialized as I drew an arrow.

I stood there, the arrow notched but not drawn back, as I waited for the last assassin to make his move. He did and the ebony dart glanced off my Daedric armor as I spun around and loosed the arrow, hitting the dishonorable killer in the chest. I knew all about how the Dark Brotherhood had broken away from the Morag Tong and, as the guild's Grandmaster, it was my duty to not let any of the renegades live if I could help it.

The assassin was down, but not dead and I walked over, putting my knee square in his stomach as I pulled my arrow out. "I can see why they wanted two of us for this job." The murderer wheezed.

"It's more than the fact that I'm the Nerevarine." I told him, looking the man dead in the eyes. "I was the one who also killed your Night Mother." As the shock appeared on my would-be killer's face, I used the heel of my hand to shove his nose up into his brain, ending his life instantly.

I stood up, picked up my fallen helm, and looked back at Azura's statue. "I hope you plan to drive me crazy." I muttered, putting my helm back on. I hit my chest in a flash of purple light. As the light faded, I was flying towards the mainland. I knew where to go; the only problem was that I was that I would be fighting twenty-two assassins total, not just two at a time.

– – – – – –

The citizens of Mournhold steered clear of me as my feet touched down in Morrowind's capital. Quickly, I put up my hood, despite my still having my helm on. I wasn't going to take off my helm or armor except to sleep, which would have to be soon, since I hadn't slept a wink in several days (another advantage that living in Nirn had helped me with). With my helm on, no one would know who I was, which made me all the more thankful as I started for The Winged Guar, where I hoped I would find a bed.

After I had paid the innkeeper, I quickly found my room and fell asleep instantly after taking my armor off and lying down on the mattress.

– – – – – –

The sky was red and ash flew through the air. Two armies marched on each other, one with swords, maces, axes, and bows; the other with strange weapons that were deafening to the ears when used and caused damage beyond imagining. The battle was over quickly, for at the head of the first army was a figure with a large set of horns. In his hands, he held a spear that shimmered. The small projectiles fired from his enemies' weapons simply bounced off him and he would shift into both a bear and wolf form at random intervals.

Just before the horned figure and his army could slay the remainder of their enemies, a man with snow white skin appeared…

– – – – – –

I snapped awake and sat up, gasping, my body covered in sweat as was usual when I was dreaming. This was different though than my past dreams like it. Instead of the words of a prophecy coming to me, I had envisioned a scene… a battle. A battle between humans from earth and one of the armies of Hircine the Hunter, which had been led by the Daedric Prince himself.

I had barely regained control of my breathing when I fell back onto the bed and lost the struggle to stay awake.

– – – – – –

Almalexia was standing beside me as my army marched up the sides of Red Mountain. We were joined by Vivec and Sotha Sil, whose shield was already active. It wasn't surprising, since the man was one of the Varlaismer, though he hid the fact, just like I had the fact that I was a Karanmer. We were the only ones of the legendary three Mer races as far as Sotha Sil and I could guess, though the Graviamer could just be somewhere else. I had long since wondered how it was that the Karanmer, the Varlaismer, and the Graviamer could exist since their heritage couldn't be traced.

"Are you worried, my husband?" Almalexia asked me and I turned to face her.

"I'm still having trouble believing that Dagoth Ur would betray us."

– – – – – –

This time I stayed down on the bed and my breathing stayed calm, though I should have been hyperventilating at what I had just seen. Nerevar had been a Karanmer as well, while Sotha Sil had been a Varlaismer. How was it that there had been no Graviamer? 'In history, there has only been one instance where all three of these beings has existed at the same time. Sometimes they come in pairs, sometimes a group of a single one is born, and other times only one individual lives in Nirn at a time.' The words spoken by the lord of Frostcrag, Myrrdin, echoed through my head.

Thanks for the lesson, old man. I answered the memory. I placed my hand over my eyes and closed my eyelids once more, hoping that my sleep would be dreamless for once.

– – – – – –

I saw Kim and Almalexia talking, though I couldn't hear the words that were said, though I was having trouble knowing who was who since they looked so similar. Almalexia gave Kim a circlet that I barely recognized and then the scene changed.

Kim was with Vivec in his palace who bestowed upon her Wraithguard and I watched as he trained her in its use. The scene changed again.

Divayth Fyr, Kim and a figure I now recognized as Sotha Sil were in Fyr's study. I looked upon the scene and realized that Kim was being trained on how to control her magic. She wasn't wearing the circlet, which meant that she either didn't have it, or she had hidden it elsewhere on her person.

The scene changed again, this time jumping far into the future, judging by the fact that she was sitting in a jail cell. My guess was proven when I saw the emperor and his Blades open the door to the cell and reveal the secret passage. The scene shifted once more.

I saw me lying on my back, yet at the same time I was also looking down at my own body. I saw my hand move and hit my chest a total of three times. White light flashed the first time, only to be followed by two flashes of blue light when nothing happened. I saw myself summon my army as zombies began to attack and then I jumped back, a fireball appearing in my hand…

– – – – – –

"Bad dreams?" The barkeep asked as I pulled up a seat. I wasn't wearing my armor (I was both too lazy and too tired at the moment) and I was still stripped to the waist as I blankly stared the man in the eyes.

"What could have given you the clue?" I responded.

"We could hear the screaming." My entire body tensed. I had been screaming? "You were yelling out names and random words."

"Like what?" I asked him, my voice having an edge to it that seemed to unnerve him.

"Kim, Almalexia, Vivec, Sotha Sil, Dagoth Ur, Nerevar, Wraithguard, Varlaismer, Karanmer, and Graviamer; to name just a few." I groaned. Why didn't I just put out a sign for everyone to see "Nerevarine sleeping here!" and end my misery? "I sent someone to look in on you and he said you lashed out when he tried to wake you which, judging by the blood, nearly resulted in the poor man's death." I let my head just fall on the counter and I began banging my forehead against the wood. Frelling idiot; you are a frelling idiot J.R.! I thought over and over again. "What are you, by the way? You can't be a vampire, since you were outside during the day. But your skin isn't like any race I've seen."

I lifted my head and looked at the bartender in the eyes again. "It would honestly be best if you forgot I was ever here. I have the Dark Brotherho-" As had happened so many times before, I felt my body lash out, though this time it was with the knife edge of my hand. My attack caught my newest black-clad stalker in the neck, dealing a fatal blow. I stood up and looked around, my entire body tensed and coiled like a spring. I stayed that way until I realized that it had only been the one killer.

Turning back to the bartender, I looked at the fear in his eyes at both the Dark Brotherhood assassin and my reaction. "Frelling son of a hazmot; I'm going to kill Helseth." I muttered as I went back to my rented room and began dressing.

– – – – – –

I dropped down into the sewers through the entrance in the Great Bazaar and instantly drew both of my "Corrosion" Daedric katana and Ragnarok Fire Blade. My hood and face mask were both up and I had my Face of Inspiration on underneath that. Basically I was dressed to kill, which was absolutely fine by me.

I immediately went up the ramp, shooting past the Khajiit thief and stopped briefly at the fork in the path, taking the route going away from the entrance to the Palace Sewers. I almost immediately found myself up against a lich. My body reacted fast enough, since I was already in a fight for my life, that the lich was barely able to put out a shock spell (which missed by many yards) before I cut it in half right down the middle. Leaving the corpse behind, I made short work of the second lich as well.

After what only seemed like a second or two later, I found myself dodging another shock spell and looking at two more liches and a skeleton champion. "I don't need this." I growled as I activated my Ragnarok Blade's other enchantment (something that I had been surprised that I could do). A fireball shot forth at one lich and exploded, catching the other undead mage in the blast, as I crushed the skeleton champion.

With my enemies defeated, I quickly shot fire at the giant rats (giant by my standards at least, not by Nirn's) which came to investigate the sounds of fighting. My killing in this part of the sewers finished, I rushed straight into the tunnel and around the bend. I stopped at the entrance into the Manor District and let out a deep breath. I needed a clear head for what was about to come. Trust your instincts. Someone's voice said in my head from the depths of my memory. Whether it was my own memory or Nerevar's, I didn't know. I didn't particularly care either, since I knew that anything that moved down here was an enemy. Remember only twenty-two assassins in there and they aren't all together… I reminded myself as I open the door and entered the Manor District…

– – – – – –

As luck would have it I seemed to have interrupted the evening meal with fifteen of the assassins huddled around a fire, laughing and conversing as they ate. "Frell…" I cursed when I found myself surrounded. This had not been what I had hoped for.

"What business do you have down here stranger?" One of the killers demanded. Slowly, I sheathed my katanas. After all, if they merely wanted to talk before I had to kill them then I wouldn't decline them the opportunity.

"I'm here to have a commission for my head removed. Frankly because Helseth is a power hungry son of a hazmot and didn't know who he was messing with." I responded calmly. The number of people surrounding me didn't really bother me anymore, since I could smell alcohol, which meant their skills wouldn't be at their best. Finally something goes right for me.

"And who might that be?" Came the next question. I didn't respond with words. Instead, I lowered my facemask and removed my hood, which caused a few of the assassins to shrink back when they saw my helm. Slowly, I let my helm fall to the ground. And I could see a fair few bodies tense at the sight of my face. "I see… you are the one who calls himself the Nerevarine." Once again, I said nothing, choosing to take off the glove on my right hand to show the five rings on my fingers, the main one being my Moon-and-Star.

"I am he." I finally told them, letting my glove drop to the ground as well. "Now please remove the commission or I'll begin killing the lot of you…" I saw almost every hand go towards their adamantium shortswords at my words. "…as I did with your precious Night Mother before I became Grandmaster of the Morag Tong." I was forced to duck under the sea of blades before I had even finished speaking. As I stood up though my hand drew the two legendary daggers strapped to my thighs: the Fang of Haynekhnamet and Mehrunes' Razor.

I pivoted to avoid a thrust and instantly one of the renegades fell, his hands suddenly clutching his throat as I severed his esophagus. The others basically swarmed me and yet my body moved, probably appearing no more than a blur to their eyes since to mine they appeared to be moving in slow motion. Blood splattered onto my face, cloak, and armor as it coated my hands and weapons. These killers knew nothing as I gutted the final one from his groin to his chin with the Razor.

When I was done, I hid my helm and glove underneath the pile of bodies. I had two options from here: go into Moril Manor's North Building or go into the East Building. Either way I'd be killing assassins but I knew that to be truly safe, I needed to kill the whole lot of them. Hmm… decisions, decision… let's go with… getting this frelling over with!

My mind made up, I "waltzed" right into the North Building. Instantly a throwing knife glanced off my armor with a loud clang! I shrugged. I hadn't thought any of these worthless scumbags capable of such strength with throwing knives. Before the knife was even a few inches from my armor, though, I snatched it from its fall. Here's your knife back buddy… I thought as the projectile sliced through the air. It didn't spin or arc. It flew dead straight like a missile homing in on its target. The groan of pain and the sound of a body falling was all the proof I needed that I'd hit my target.

Stepping forward, I turned left at the fork and then right. Two more assassins rushed me, one of them my main target. My smirk was too sadistic as I changed course. Instead of my usual method of spellcasting, I decided to try something new and surprising. Snapping my fingers, a ball of flame appeared in my hand as my palm opened up. Flinging my arm at my attackers, who were still closing in, the fire raced towards the nameless nobody who thought I was an easy target. Much to my merciless delight, the spell struck him square in the face, forcing him to stop as his entire body seemed to spontaneously combust. The screaming hurt my ears, but I had even bigger fish to fry… pun completely intended. Only this time, I drew the Fang. Dandras, unfortunately, didn't have time to stop as I moved forward, the dagger in my hand piercing his gut. The lightning properties of the weapon coursed through his body until I pried the blade from his flesh. He fell to the ground gasping in pain.

"No...tell my liege...I have...failed h..." Dandras tried to say before I stomped down on his head… as hard as I could.

"Sure, and while I'm at it… would you like me to call 911? You don't look too well." I told the corpse. Quickly I grabbed the note Helseth had given the man and opened it.

The Bearer of this document, under special dispensation of the Night Mother, who has entered in a contract in perpetuity with H, is given special dispensation to execute Aodh Ailill, a Karanmer recently residing on the island of Vvardenfell. In accordance with all laws and traditions, the afore-mentioned personage will be executed in the name of H in the most expedient manner possible. All services of the Dark Brotherhood are at the disposal of the Bearer of this binding and non-disputable document.

Well… here's my proof. Now to go shove it down Helseth's throat. I thought as I turned around and strode calmly back through the manor and the sewers.

– – – – – –

I was sitting on the top of Vivec's palace. My thoughts were straying from my current task of killing the Dark Brotherhood's Night Mother to Kim and where she might be. Since I had killed Dagoth Ur, I had been very active in Morrowind. It hadn't taken me very long to become the head of the Mages Guild, or even the Thieves Guild. Now I was rising to the top of the Morag Tong. Eno Hlaalu could easily see my potential, though we both had to admit that I was better suited for straight up combat rather than sneaking around and assassinating people. Many people, however, seemed quite stunned when I would suddenly appear behind them and present the writ for their execution. I always said inhumane was not letting a person dodge the bullet and now that I was an assassin, I followed that philosophy to my best ability.

I chuckled silently as I shook my head. I was only playing the waiting game now… and I'd come up with a brilliant past time. Standing up, I hit my chest with my right hand. "Fire Storm." It looked as if I was pulling the spell from my body as I moved to hold my arm out perpendicular from the rest of me. "Special Delivery for one Kimberlyn Harris. I believe you ordered the extra crispy chicken." It was a lame joke, but I had to say it as I threw the red ball of magic towards the source of the pulling I always felt now. I knew my aim would be dead on.

– – – – – –

The heavy doors of the throne room became acquainted with my foot as I kicked them open. "Helseth, ye frellin' son o' a hazmot!" I yelled as loud as I could. "Get yer arse out here!" My voice had slipped into an accent, but it wasn't the British one I used often enough in the past. I had gone into an Ulster Irish accent, one that I had practiced along with a few others so that I could pass myself off as a different person so long as I didn't show my face. The royal guards jumped at me immediately. My reflexes kicked in before I even knew I was reacting and in only a few seconds every guard in the room was slumped against a wall, either unconscious or too weak to move. "HELSETH!"

Nobody answered at first, until one of the guards coughed. "I won't pretend I don't know what this is about. Of course, I'll deny it publicly. But don't take it personally. You appeared to present a threat to King Helseth. Perhaps mistakes were made. But you can prove they were mistakes, if you can prove your loyalty to King Helseth." The voice sounded pained, but he was coherent enough for me to understand him.

"Ye know he poisoned King Llethan, here's yer proof o' what ye would call 'rumors'." I stormed over to the guard, whose name was Tienius Delitian, and threw the copy of 'The Common Tongue' at him. "He'll do anythin' for power, even if thon means pissin' me off by tryin' to kill me." My eye was twitching like it always does when I get angry. My next words, however, were in my normal voice. "Now where's Karrod? He has something of mine and I want it back." Once again, no answer. "Fine, I'll find him myself. Even if I have to tear down this entire frelling palace."

– – – – – –

Somehow, I did manage to find him. But only after demolishing the door to Helseth's quarters and walking in looking ready to kill. Both of my targets were there. "Helseth… I'M GONNA FRELLING KILL YA!" I rushed forward just as Karrod drew his portion of Trueflame that someone had furnished into a usable weapon. I glared daggers at Karrod and knocked his weapon aside with my Daedric gauntlet before giving him a taste of my right hook. The power behind the blow sent the Redguard sprawling, his sword flying out of his hands. Helseth looked pale as I grabbed the front of his robes and lifted him into the air with ease. "Why?" I breathed.

"It was… misinformation." The Dunmer king was clutching at my hands trying to free himself. "It happens… I was told… you pose a threat."

"Well, here's an update: I only pose a threat if you try to kill me. Unfortunately, you have fallen under that category, you worthless excuse for a life form. Your assassins wounded someone who is practically family to me. The three Mer races have appeared and you tried to kill one of them, almost succeeding in killing a different one instead!" My voice had gone back to a yell at the very end. "Admia, Kieran, and I pose no threat to you. If we did, you would be dead by now."

"You are the Nerevarine, correct?" A woman's voice asked from the broken doorway. I hadn't heard her walk in and I had to fight my instincts to keep from accidentally killing Helseth. "Please, let my son live. It was a simple misunderstanding." It was Barenziah. "I ask for your forgiveness on his behalf, Lord Nerevar reborn." I continued glaring at Helseth, even as I set him back on his feet.

"For future reference: don't try to kill me again, else I'll level this whole frelling city." My voice was cold and my eyes bored holes into the frightened Helseth. "There is no where you can run that I can't find you. And even your goblin army won't protect you from me." Helseth practically paled at my words. "Oh yes, I know about them. In fact, I was just about to go clean out the sewers entirely. Your army, the Dark Brotherhood, the undead, and even that pitiful gang of dart throwers; I'm going to send them all into the grave."

Turning around, I walked out, pausing just long enough to pick up the fragment of Trueflame, and made my way towards the Great Bazaar once more.

– – – – – –

The sewers were just as damp as I remembered them. The west sewers were worse. Turning south, I reached the main portion of the sewers and found myself suddenly facing one of the ugliest creatures I'd ever seen. It was about half my height, but very well built… and it was rushing straight at me. A smirk covered my face as my arm whipped out in front of me, letting go of a throwing knife, which hit the goblin in the left eye, though it kept coming. My smirk dropped a little. I had forgotten about how durable those things were.

When the goblin came within reach, I reached down and tore my throwing knife from its eye before pivoting and planting the same weapon at the base of his skull, severing the brain from the nervous system. "Live through that," I growled, twisting the knife violently, which resulted in the dead creature's decapitation. "Looks like I have to kill them the hard way."

– – – – – –

The goblin war chief never saw the attack coming as I pinned its head against the rock wall with a Daedric arrow. In that same instant, the goblin burst into flames. Its dying screams were lost as I turned and walked away. No one would hear its pain. I'd saved that one for last. It had taken a bit of practice, but I'd finally figured out how to kill goblins from a distance with only a single hit. Even my enchanted Akaviri katanas didn't work as well as I would have hoped and so I had gone to my skill with a bow. While not the best of my arsenal of killing techniques, it did the job properly. But I would have to raid a Daedric ruin to replenish my arrows. Daedric stuff was always best for me… that or something heavily enchanted.

I was only three meters away from my exit when I heard to objects hit the ground and roll towards me. My body moved instinctively and I rolled to the side, crouching in a very defensive stance with the Fang of Haynekhnamet and Mehrunes' Razor gripped so tightly in my hands that the veins were raised from my normally smooth and level skin. My eyes found the objects that had startled me. They were the heads of the two Altmer goblins trainers. "Killian… ye should know I don't like surprises," I said in my Irish accent. The shadow that was almost a physical double of Kim pouted mockingly.

"I just thought I'd kill 'em for you," she whined and my eyes narrowed into a dark glare.

"Stay out o' me way. Killian," I warned. "If I have to kill ye, I will. Ye may look like her, but ye amn't Kim." It was the shadow's turn to glare.

"Too bad," she said haughtily. "You're stuck with me. So what's next on your list?" I looked at the lifeless heads of the Altmer lying on the ground.

"I be goin' to kill everythin' in here. There are only a handful thon will be spared."

"You said something about undead to that king," Killian noted. "Are you going after them next?" I nodded.

"And everyone in between."

"Good, Kieran hates undead."

"You make it sound as if she's visiting Mournhold soon." Killian smirked, but said nothing. "You're serious?" I was suddenly nervous. Kim and I hadn't met officially in Nirn. In fact, both times we had met, we'd attacked each other... the second time was with the intent to wound bad enough to get information.

"Psyche!" Killian laughed. My body shook as I fought the urge to throw a dagger at her. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say-"

"Killian, you'd better not say what I think you're going to say," I growled. "There is nothing there. I'm heartless, remember? I have been for years."

"Yeesh, can't you take a joke?"

"I'm going to refrain from speaking my mind just now. Unless you'd like to hear someone speak with the highly offensive words of a sailor."

– – – – – –

I was sitting against the side of the Temple with my journal on my lap and quill in my hand.

— Sundas, 7th Morning Star 3E428 —

Twelve years now, is it? It feels like longer. Well, I'm in Mournhold, preparing to kill my wife. The goblins are dead, the undead are redead, and the Black Dart Gang is pushing up daisies. The sewers are now safe for everyone… kind of. The dead never stay so for long unfortunately. Killian insisted on helping me the entire way. It was handy, but I still prefer to work solo. Perhaps one day, I'll be able to get away from here, strike off entirely on my own. In the game, the Nerevarine is said to have gone off to Akavir. The idea is interesting. Perhaps I shall attempt it one day. After all, I'm not bound to only Cyrodiil and Morrowind, though admittedly they are they only places I know anything about apart from the bare basics.

Well, I guess I should mention my progress so far in the Tribunal mainquest. I've completely gone off the beaten track and done a lot of things early. I still have the heads of the goblin warchiefs and their Altmer trainers. I have Barilzar's Mazed Band, Karrod's piece of Trueflame, and a good bit of loot from the sewers. I've pretty much sent it all to my strongholds in Vvardenfell. So-

Someone's coming. I'll continue writing later.

I stashed my journal back in its satchel and waited for the Dunmer to tell me what was so important that he had to run like Armageddon itself was chasing him. When he was standing right in front of me I stood up as he doubled over to catch his breath. "Stand up straight and place yer hands on yer head, t'will help ye catch yer breath sooner." He followed my advice and after a moment he was able to speak. Though he was still winded.

"King Helseth wants you to meet with him. He says it's about an assassination plot against his mother." I just stood there for a moment. Helseth had tried to kill me, which nearly resulted in his own death at my hands, and now he wanted me to save his mother? Either he'd changed his mind about me rather quickly or…

"Fie," I cursed. Someone had hired assassins to kill Barenziah. I remembered now. Looking at the man, I stared him straight in the eye. "You never met me. I was never here. King Helseth did not ask for my help. Am I understood?" I kept switching back and forth between my normal voice and my Irish accent, but I didn't care.

– – – – – –

It was roughly eight o'clock or about two hours after dusk. I was standing outside Barenziah's chambers, completely obscured by shadows. Thanks to my experience in the Morag Tong, the assassins would never know I was there until it was too late.

"Quiet fool," a rough voice hissed suddenly. "Do you want to get us caught?" And they were right on schedule.

"Sorry," another voice apologized. Three black figures crept right by me and into Barenziah's quarters. Silently I snuck up on the one in back and covered his mouth as I slid a tanto across his throat. It was perfect kill and I seemed to melt into the darkness once more as I hid the body. The dead man's companions never realized that anything had happened. As they opened the second door into the Queen Mother's chambers, one fell behind the other and his death was just as soundless as the first one. Barenziah was sitting in a chair, reading, when the final assassin entered the room. Looking up, I saw the terror in her eyes.

"Don't scream." If she wanted to, Barenziah seemed unable to do so. Then she saw me sneaking up behind the man and she smiled. Our eyes met and mine clearly told her to act as if I weren't there. She got the message and tried to back away from the assassin, knocking over her chair. "This will be quick, I promise you."

"Oh, I plan to make it so." My voice caused the assassin to start. As he turned around I grabbed him in an iron grip by the throat and sent magical electricity coursing into his body. In short: I was electrocuting him. The sounds that escaped his lips caused me to smile as I watched his body spasm uncontrollably. A royal guard rushed into the room and stopped to stare at my chosen method of killing in horror, but he didn't move to stop me.

Finally the man died. Unfortunately it happened just before Helseth walked into the room. He appeared relieved. "When you didn't contact me, I assumed the worst. Thank you Nerevarine, I apologize for the execution order. I am in your debt." His eyes were staring at the assassin and for a brief moment, I thought I saw fear cross his features.

"The goblins and undead are out of the sewers," I told him. "After this, you will not be able to contact me very easily." I dropped the assassin and gave Helseth only a glance as I left. My parting words were all that remained behind: "I hope this teaches you that you shouldn't send assassins against an assassin."

Closing the door behind me, I took a deep breath before finding the closest door outside. I hated the palace. I already had everything I needed from it and if Helseth wanted to give me a reward for saving his mother, I could always leave a forwarding address. The thought gave me an idea. Looking at my hand, I envisioned my stronghold presented by House Hlaalu. Then a white light flashed.

When I could see again, I was standing on the roof of the tower of Rethan Manor. It felt good to be back in Vvardenfell, even though it had barely been a week. For the first time since I was first attacked by the Dark Brotherhood, I relaxed. Taking a deep breath, I breathed the scent in. Yes, it felt really good to be back. I quickly decided that Almalexia could wait. She had no idea what I'd accomplished in Mournhold. And she couldn't summon the fabricants without Barilzar's Mazed Band, which I still had in my possession. So that meant I could go on a vacation that I was definitely going to take.

"I thought it was strange when you just disappeared," Killian said behind me. I had expected it. I had told her that I needed to take care of the assassination plot myself and for once she had listened. But that didn't mean she hadn't been watching. She was a shadow warrior, after all. She could easily stay hidden from view. "So what are you doing outside a swamp? I thought you wanted to get on with killing Almalexia."

"I do, but I'm taking some time off." I smirked. "Yes, you heard me. The great Nerevarine is going on hiatus."

"Sounds like you need to deflate your head a bit, buddy." I laughed at Killian's words.

"What? And lose my god complex?" I asked jokingly. "I think you have me confused with some other John Layton who isn't Bi-Polar."

"Do you remember playing 'tennis' with Kieran?" It sounded more like a warning and suddenly I became nervous again, but this time it was at a memory. I remembered the few times Kim's spells had overcome my defenses. One of them had knocked me out of the air… in the middle of flying. I had been about two miles above the ground and had fallen like a rock… once again proving the existence of gravity. I had barely been able to recover. I was surprised I hadn't burned up on reentry.

"What do you want, Killian? I apologized for flipping you and judging by how you aren't torturing me, I don't have to worry about it anymore."

"Prove it." Even though I was looking away from Killian, I sensed the Daedric crescent cut through the air towards me. Spinning, golden light gathered in my hand before materializing into a shimmering Daedric longsword. The weapons clashed against each other and I glared at Killian. "Good reflexes," she noted approvingly. There was a small smile on her face.

"You'd know." With those words, the smile was gone and Killian's eyes smoldered. I managed to deflect the next few blows before I jumped back and put distance and elevation between us as I landed on the ground. "Well, it's been nice to chat, Killian, but I need to get going if I want to be back by the New Year. Toodles!" With that I envisioned a place I had only seen when I would play Oblivion in my mind's eyes and gave a sarcastic salute with my bound sword still clutched in my hand. I was gone in another flash of white light.

The first thing I noticed when I arrived at my intended destination was the cold. I had forgotten that it was the middle of winter. Vvardenfell and Mournhold had never felt cold, whether due to spells, Red Mountain, or some other reason I didn't know. But Cloud Ruler Temple was freezing. And to top it off, I was standing knee deep in snow. Instantly, my teeth began chattering and my armor started to feel like ice, making matters worse. Note to self: never get that Stalhrim gear… at least, don't wear it! I thought as I struggled to walk towards the main doors. When I arrived at them, I pushed both open and stepped inside the Blades outpost, closing the doors again behind me. There was a fire in the hearth, which meant that someone was here.

Walking over to a table near the fire, I took off my cloak and folded it. Placing it on the table I also laid my sword there, which would vanish any moment. Then I dug my Daedric Face of Inspiration out of its sack and set it on my cloak. Next came my cuirass and the rest of my armor. I was left standing there in my normal clothing which looked like it really needed to be washed. "I probably need a bath as well," I said quietly as I vocalized my thoughts. There was the sound of footsteps coming closer and running down a set of stairs.

"Who's there?" A woman's voice asked harshly. When she came into view, she stopped and our eyes met. "You… you're that one who demanded to talk with the Emperor no matter what." Her tone was accusing and I smirked slightly as I shrugged.

"I'm also the acting head of the Blades stationed in Vvardenfell," I told her. "I wouldn't be if the Uriel hadn't forced me into the Blades in the first place. So cool your heels, I'm just here until it stops snowing. Then I'll continue on." The female Blades member glared.

"What are you doing away from your post then?"

"They can take care of themselves. Besides, I have practically all of Morrowind under my control anyway. It sort of came with the territory when I became the Nerevarine." The woman's breath caught and I looked down at my shirt. I could really tell that I reeked now. "Mind pointing me to the baths? I'm in real need of one."