Chapter One: The Meek
A late summer wind swept the Imperial gardens, while a blanket of cloud loomed above. Tiny sprinkles of water scattered through the air, casting themselves upon trees, roofs, and people. Slowly and subtly, droplets of moisture began to drip from the ancient, white stonework of the Imperial City. Accompanied by the sound of distant thunder, it all blew softly through the ancient tombs and graveyards, down across the districts, and even to the far side of the Waterfront.
Due to these stormy conditions, few people were out and about; however, there was one person who could be found. Kneeling in the warm, damp soil of Imperial Gardens, he carefully cleaned off the decomposing leaves from a grave, cutting out the weeds and plant matter from various cracks. Softly, he folded his hands together and muttered an old prayer to Arkay, finishing with a "…may they rest in peace."
Peace they seemed to have. He was sure of it. For the greater part of the afternoon he'd been here, being paid a few septims to take care of the tombs. As of now, the drizzle was hardening, producing larger and wider drops. There was nothing left he could do here; So like a silhouette, he arose and moved away from the great tomb. It looked only slightly better now. There were still a lot of weeds growing in between the stone blocks, and the bottom was stained a deep, mossy green. The late summer rain would soon undo all his hard done work. Even now the tomb had a roof that looked ready to slide straight off; not something that could be easily repaired, or replaced for that matter.
Sniffing deeply, he began to feel the wetness of the rain. He lifted his crimson hood over his short sable hair, merely to keep the rain out of his green eyes. Despite the warmth in the weather, he wore a quilted vest over a fine white shirt. A swirling red cape was wrapped around him, along with black trousers and a set of riding boots. A long thin sword hung by his side, as was the fashion of many gentlefolk in Cyrodiil. Indeed, a gentleman he looked, for he was well-formed and muscular; a fine image of an Imperial nobleman. At first glance, one might think him a native, for he was tan and thinly shaped. Despite all this, there was something else in his deep, large eyes; something that set his nationality apart from the rest of the city. He was a Nord, a native of those far northern lands, a place that was shrouded in legend and mystery.
"Hold on there, Brekr… If you please." the mention of his own name caused the man to blink. Turning around, he saw before him, at a little distance, a rather chubby little man with red hair and a freckled face. Despite the cooling rain, sweat managed to drip down the man's brow in vast amounts. Brekr watched as he pulled out his handkerchief, "I... I've been searching... the entire city for you..."
"Now Antoni… how many times have said that... I've lost count" he answered indifferently, turning back around, "Anyway, I thought it was my day off… or did I make another mistake?" Antoni panted, wiping his brow with extreme care, "Trust me Brekr… you'll want in on this one. It's a very exciting case by the looks of it. Madame Dra'bhi has asked me to bring everyone in… even you. Gods know why."
"Does she? In that case I'll be right along. Though I don't really feel up to it right now" He felt distant and faraway, and acted as such.
"Well…" Antoni said, a casual but urgent tone in his voice "I wouldn't worry about it too much about it. If anything, I think you should be excited"
"Mhmm." Brekr smothered a slight yawn, "I'm coming then… looks like we're in for some rain anyways"
"Yes, and I have to bring you back with me right." Antoni boomed, wiping his forehead again, "The entire meeting is waiting on you. You must absolutely come at once." Brekr stopped. All introverted and distant feelings were gone in an instant. He gazed back at Antoni shamefaced, "The entire meeting?… you mean they've been waiting on me this whole time?"
"Yes!" Antoni nodded, "That's why we need to skedaddle lad!"
"Oh…" Brekr felt himself dragged back to reality, "Of course… come on then." He shook his head and pushed towards the gate with Antoni in tow. Infuriating the Madame would have been a death sentence for anyone's career, and to get through this world successfully, he needed friends in high places. Everyone needed friends in high places. They were the ones that really mattered.
Or... as a young girl believed, it was the friends in low places that mattered most At the other end of the city, Kayte, or Kayti as her friends knew her, was making her own way through life. 16 years old and strong, she hurried down the wet cobblestone streets. Expressive hazel eyes, so delicately set within their sockets, glanced about nervously. She was only a small creature, a little over 5.2 in height and stature, simply clad in an old leather travel outfit. As she hurried through the rain, so did the sky continue to darken
"aHHH—kaCHOO!" she sneezed, blowing her nose completely clear. She groaned and rubbed it tenderly. It had only been raining half an hour after all, and she was already soaked through. Things had turned wet fast.
"Afternoon Miss." a sudden voice caused her to jump, "Oh… oh Gods." she breathed heavily, "Please don't scare me like that."
"Oh… terribly sorry mis." A bearded gent stood opposite of her, rising like a tall tree. He performed a low bow and moved past, nearly crushing her into the wall by accident. It was fortunate however, for as he slipped past her, so did Kayte slip something from him
"A coin purse." She smiled, stuffing it into a hidden pocket. By the time the man noticed, it would be too late. Things were looking up it seemed. The money would fetch her a nice room at the inn, and she could get out of this ghastly, wet weather.
So she moved on, feeling another sneeze rise in her nose. No one noticed her. Nobody cared. But meanwhile, far to the North, even across the woods of Cyrodiil and the mighty Jerrall Mountains, a man named Faeorn had more attention than he ever desired. Standing amongst a crowd of cheering fans, he had to admit something to himself; He was hopelessly drunk. Even now his vision was blurred, the colors danced around him vividly. Out of this mystical and contrasted vividness, a fist flew swiftly at him, striking him square in the lower jaw. He staggered backwards, his groggy mind drifting back to the argument he'd been having earlier; something about the price of war-hammers.
"Well we'll settle it the Nord way" Borin had proudly proclaimed. Little did Faeorn know, that the Nord way consisted of several tankards of the Black Briar Mead, and then a drunken brawl.
"Come… on… Faeeeeorn…" another equally drunk voice blabbered at him. Faeorn took a swing at the blurry figure in front of him, landing it in the muscular abs of Borin, who let out a congested yelp, "Ooof… Aww… Now that's…. mooore… likeit…"
"Defen yahself…." Faeorn cocked his head. The man tried to throw a heavy punch, but ended up body-slamming him, which in turn sent them both to the ground. Borin, who was rather heavy set, landed on top Faeorn, completely knocking the wind out of him."
Gerroff me!" he wheezed, slapping Borin repeatedly in the face,
"Nevah! I… got you now.." Borin slurred, his eyes rolling lazily in their sockets, "And dere's nothin… you can do boutit…
"Oh yah?" Faeorn cried, squirming desperately in an attempt to get out from under the huge Nord, who just laughed at his pathetic attempts, "Oh! How deare you I never asked for dis! Gerroff me!" Suddenly, he felt the pressure relieved as the giant Nord was yanked off of him, allowing him to breath again.
"Break this up! Both of you!" a third voice shouted, sounding significantly more sober than anyone else. Faeorn felt himself get lifted up, kindly escorted to the door, and promptly cast out into the streets of Whiterun.
"How dare they?!" He couldn't belief the pure audacity. The rain was coming down in moderate amounts, soaking him through in no time.. Slowly, he groaned and got up on his feet, his legs feeling like great logs, "How…. dear you!" he shouted in general direction of the in. Despite being in the late afternoon, few people were about on this rainy day. Seeing no reason to daudle about, he began to move his own drunken body. Something impacted his left foot in a very short time, sending him to the ground. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't find the strength lift himself up. He was completely immobilized
He lay there for hours, or what seemed like hours, until he felt finally felt someone touch his shoulder. He felt warmth...warmth that radiated through his shirt like rays of the sun. Somehow, it gave him the strength grovel around and look up. Above him stood a blur of a figure... completely unrecognizable.
"You are not alright sir..." the voice was feminine. Faeorn blew a raspberry and threw his head in a hilariously exaggerated nod. "Yup!" he grinned stupidly... "I mean uh… no... I'm fine dear, blurry lady."
"Well what's wrong with your voice then, eh?"
"Um… nothing… There's wrong with my voice I feel fine with my voice… my voice feels fine with me! Why wouldn't we be?" Faeorn tapped his nose loudly, amused by his own words. "La! I'm rhymed… how great is that?"
"You are drunk as a doornail!" the blur concluded, an unreadable expression on her face, "And the Bannered Mare threw you out then."
"YES!" Faeorn shouted, "The turds... the absolute turds!" He shook his head in an exaggerated motion, "I wish I… I wish I could… fix em' good!" Faeorn burst out laughing, slapping his knee twice with joy "I rhymed I'm rhymed! I always wanted to rhymed!"
"Yeeaah…" she slurred, looking around for a guard "So I'll find someone to help ye' then."
"No no!" Faeorn shouted, reaching out for her hand, "Don't go…"
"I'll be gone just a' moment." the woman reassured him, "Be right back." She spun around on her heel and left before he could respond, returning just a moment later. Faeorn noticed a second blur following her.
"Oh… a drunk then." the second blur announced. The woman merely nodded, "Yeah, he's hopelessly intoxi—"
"I am nay drunk!" Faeorn croaked, trying to control himself, "I am… HuP!... perfectly fine…"
"Nah... you ain't." the other voice boomed. It was thoroughly masculine, "Well we can't just leave him on the streets. Someone might uh... trip... you know, over his body." he ended with a little chuckle. Faeorn thought about the problem, his slurred reasoning deciding to agree with the blurs. Maybe a little rest would do him good after all. For no apparent reason, he began to nod. As the guard picked him up, he nodded; as he was taken out of the market place, he nodded; as he was dumped in prison, he nodded.
Kayte swiftly crossed the alleyway, taking some refuge in a small cove in the wall. The sky was getting dark fast... faster than she thought it would. She rubbed her hands together, ready to reach into her newfound coin-purse.
A loud burst of thunder interrupted any thoughts. She froze a moment, ready to relax when she heard a pair of voices, talking energetically despite the heavy rain.
"Wonder who'd be out in this weather?" Kayte thought, feeling another sneeze rise in her nose. Out of pure curiosity, she poked her head out, glancing in the direction of the voices.
"Why of all the crazy?" she saw two men; one was laughing heartily, while the other remained rather fixated and grave.
"As I was sayin' Brekr" she heard one say. Another boom of thunder interrupted any further sound of voices. She saw them step in through the next door."
"Well I hope they're comfortable." Kayte muttered, shivering a bit. It was still warm enough to be relatively comfortable outside. "It's not like I'm cold and wet… and…Ahhh—" she stopped herself, pinching her nose, "sick…"
Inside, Brekr felt good in the warm glow of the fire. He always loved this time of year, for it was warm and wet enough to be pleasant outside, but still exceedingly cozy indoors. The pitter-patter of the rain, along with a quaint game of cards would make anyone's day. Brekr smiled at the very thought, hearing the sound of the door as Antoni entered behind him.
"Come on!' Brekr heard him say, as he allowed himself to be led up a set of stairs. The room upstairs was crowded with a dozen or so couriers. They were all talking excitedly to each other, making it sound like a band of chipmunks fretting over some nuts. Brekr made his way to his favorite seat near the two most prestigious writers. The first of these was Hieronix, an anxious looking Imperial with ruddy skin and almond shaped eyes. The other was Irervi, a retarded looking dark elf who had somehow gotten a free ticket out of Morrowind. Unmanageable black hair flowed over the firm, blocky expression that was his face.
Finally, Madame Dra'bhi was seated royally in the back. She was an elderly kahjiit, with short, grayish fur and lively brown eyes. Her great grandmother's grandfather had been one of the founders of the Courier, some 200 years before. She herself had saved the business on more than one occasion; but now she was old and rarely involved in the gazette, except when important cases arose. The old Kahjiit rose her slender hand to signal silence. She cleared her throat and spoke in a serious voice, "Sit down Brekr... Antoni" She motioned to the chair by the table, which Brekr promptly took. Antoni sat down at his desk in the corner of the room.
"Good afternoon." Madame Dra'bhi said formally, taking some papers in hand, "Thank you all for coming here. I know for some of you, it was your day off." she spoke in a pure, natural Imperial accent, dispensing with the usual third person, something extremely common in her race.
"Well it was important." she continued, with a tone of age and honed wisdom "We have a lot to cover, but let's start with the preliminaries. Tomorrow we'll need coverage of the Emperor's speech. Hieronix, you're the man on the job."
"Will do." Hieronix proclaimed with firm resolution.
"Quintus." Madame continued, "A woman in Bravil has apparently turned herself into a pigeon. That seems like your kind of case."
"Indeedy..." Quintus squealed like a little piglet. He spun around on his stool with joy. Madame continued handing out cases to the other journalists. With each appointment, Brekr felt his own smile droop, until it was upside-down. Was there nothing for him... again? Soon everyone with their appointments, save him.
This was going to be a long day... a very long day.
"What's he doing?" A Bosmer was crouched behind a stack of boxes, shivering fervently due to the heavy rain. Her name was Giinthil, and she was refugee from the north Vallenwood area. Her partner, a stouthearted Imperial with a lively attitude, was busy keeping watch over the boxes. He didn't seem to hear her, so Giinthil asked again.
"Psst…!" she whispered, almost out loud for all the sound she made, "What's the man doing?!"
"Nothing…" her comrade replied, "He's just digging through some old boxes… and chests… and now barrels… and um… is that a sac—"
"Yes I understand Corvus." she interrupted him, trying to shield her face from the deluge pouring above her, "Just keep watching him." She could feel the chilled redness radiating from her own cheeks. It was unusually cold, even for a rainy, late-summer day like this one, and to think their suspect was merely digging through old crates was infuriating. She wanted to take a look of her own, but stern caution warned her against such action. This observation point was perfect… at least when the clouds weren't overhead, and the last thing she should now was spoil it by acting too soon.
"It sort of makes you wonder." Corvus whispered, completely unbothered by the rain, "Why a man would go digging in those old crates, just to pick out some rusty old spoons and moldy bread."
"People are odd." Giinthil replied, "That doesn't matter anyway… We're just here to keep an eye on him. Let me know if he takes a single item from those boxes"
"Sure thing Giin…" Corvus replied, a small smile plastered on his face, "I could use a little g— Wait a minute! He's pulled out a sack…" Corvus burst out ecstatically, throwing a glance back at the Bosmer, "A large bag." he proclaimed, looking back at their suspect with renewed zeal. He winced his eyes twice in an attempt to get a better view, "He's just taking everything… forks, seeds, apples, hammers; everything's going into the bag."
"Wha-What?" Giinthil asked, half muttering to herself. Unable to resist the tension anymore, she leaped up beside her comrade, fixing her own eyed on the man in the marketplace.
"By my ears!" she shouted, "He is just taking everything." By now the man had produced a sizable sack full of oddities. Taking a quick glance around him, he threw it over his shoulder and darted down a narrow passage.
"Quickly, after him!" Giinthil shouted, jumping over the crates that had once concealed them. Corvus leaped after her, hurrying in pursuit of the rather clumsy thief. It took them only a moment longer to reach the market place. Giinthil just saw a glimpse of a sack as she reached the alley. Corvus also saw it and dashed after him, turning the corner and likewise vanishing. Giinthil hurried after the two of them, but the heavy rain delayed her progress. She turned the corner to find Corvus lying flat on his back, and the thief nowhere to be found.
"Corvus!" she shouted, completely surprised. She knelt down beside him, and slapped his face gently. Corvus groaned a moment, then opened one eye, glancing at her a moment before closing it, "Ow…." he moaned sullenly, "All I saw was a large sack flying towards my face. I think my...oh... I think my nose is broken."
"No it isn't…" Giinthil said without any real knowledge. She hesitantly felt the end of his nose with her own finger, wincing just a bit, "But it's a deep shade of red… nasty bruise."
"Giin…."Corvus groaned, making no effort to get up, "Shouldn't you be pursuing him or something?" Giinthil… or "Giin" as she was often called, merely shook her head, "He's gone… I don't know how, but he just disappeared."
They both sat there a moment, and breathed... just breathed.
Nearby, Brekr felt himself slip, and slip, and then nearly fall off his chair, "Ooaah!" he roared, feeling his rump loose traction. He quickly placed himself back on his seat. The bitter-sweet taste of saliva in his mouth helped him discern his fate; he'd fallen asleep.
Around him, fellow journalists and couriers were busy helping themselves to drinks and refreshments, all the while discussing their new assignments. Brekr felt like black goat amongst white sheep. He couldn't understand how he'd been so forgotten. Of course he wasn't the best, but he certainly wasn't the worst.
"Brekr." he felt a grayish paw on his shoulder, which revealed itself to belong to Madame Dra'bhi "Didn't you grab something to eat? It's cold and raining outside."
"Oh... um no... I mean yes." Brekr tried to raise a hand up to wipe the sleep from his face. Madame smiled inscrutably, "Come to my office. Antoni and I have something special for you." She spun around and beelined for the door, motioning for him to follow. Brekr got up, nearly collapsing on his exhausted legs, "Ghfff." he moaned, not disturbing anyone else from their talk. The slow mind of recent sleep guided him after her, past the many tables and chairs that had seemed to spring up. Antoni was waiting for them in Madame's office, seated at a tiny chair in the corner.
"Ah... there you are." he chimed as they entered, "Madame said we have a busy week. A believe me, yours will be the busiest."
"Uh..." Brekr stopped and slapped the slow mind of recent sleep, trying to jolt it awake. He shook his head twice, and then looked back at his employers. He noticed some rather peculiar expressions written on their faces, eager, yet completely veiled.
"Well um..." Antoni took a pinch of snuff, "Do you want to hear about it?"
"Well I um... yeah."
"You're going northwards Brekr." Madame began. She took a seat at her table, "Your job is most exciting. Trust me, I envy you" She purred slowly, "It is however, quite complicated. As you may have heard, in Skyrim, Hall of the Vigilants has been burned to the ground, along with many the order's leading members." She stopped a moment, letting it sink it, "Now, I know it seems dreary, to investigate a freak burning. But, my dear lad, word is vampires are involved. If so, this could be a tremendous sell. I need not remind you that the Empire cut our funding. We rely on hard work and ingenuity"
"I..." Brekr's mind was beginning to come back. He shook his head slowly
"We want you to investigate this." Madame replied with wolfish radiance, "But there's more. You, my dear lad, will have complete freedom of bounds, in order to pursue every lead you see fit. You'll be able to go anywhere, and do anything that you please, though you yourself will suffer any consequences." her eyes gleamed as she spoke, "Don't get me wrong; we'll pay you well, twice your normal salary. The longer you keep getting us news, the longer your incredible freedom will last. And who knows, if you do well we might put you on other such cases."
"I..." Brekr was dumbfounded. Slowly, he felt his internal shock turn to joy. This kind of freedom was truly alluring, even if it only was temporary.
"What do you say?" Antoni grinned, as wolfish as the Madame, "Shall you be our cloak of darkness, and we your enchanted sword."
"I say..." Brekr started, "I say yes." His legs were shaking. Brekr thought he'd better stand up without hesitation, "Of course I say yes. I would relish the opportunity t-"
"Of course you would." Antoni interrupted, "It's every journalist's dream, to be given a region to wander, to travel, to discover its inhabitants' secrets."
Brekr gleamed, looking at the energetic faces before him, "I don't know what to say... when should I leave." No one answered. Madame simply rose from her chair, walking over to the window. The rain was still pouring outside, much heavier than before. She folded her hands together, speaking softly, "Whenever you like Brekr. I would suggest you wait for the Emperor's speech tomorrow... but the choice is up to you."
"Thanks er... I mean, thank you Madame."
Madame Dra'bhi smiled, turning around on her heel, "Your welcome, and you may go Brekr. Antoni, give him an advance on his new salary. I would recommend the Merchants Inn; quiet, affordable, and very comfortable."
"Thank you again Madame." He turned to leave, nearly bumping into Antoni, who swiftly handed him his pay. Brekr left.
Antoni sighed, seating himself back at his table. He felt terribly crestfallen, "Do you really think he's ready?"
"Oh yes." Madame spoke again, "He's ready. I'm sure of it."
The rain was heavy as Giinthil trotted back towards the barracks, feeling cold, wet, and all weird inside. It was so dark that it might as well have been evening. As she went along, she barely noticed the small frame of a woman slip past her.
"Oi..." she raised her head, turning around sharply, "You!" The younger woman stopped in her tracks, turning around slowly. Her bright blonde curls were draped against her face, wet from the rainstorm.
"Kayte..." Giinthil gave her a once over, "What are you doing out here?
"Oh come on Giin." Kayte pulled her black cloak tighter around herself, "I am just trying to keep out of the rain... no trouble, promise."
"Hmm... well alright, but I'm warning you Kayti." Giinthil drilled her eyes into her, "I may be your friend, but I'm still a guardswoman. If you're up to somethin—"
"Yes of course, I understand. You have a job to do, and nothing else matters."
She could hardly believe it. Already short on temper, Giinthil firmly pressed both her hands against her hips, "I'm not having this debate, Kayte. Not now."
"Oh come on, Gin!" Kayte rolled her eyes, shaking her head, "How long are you going to hide behind that uniform? It doesn't even look good on you!" She shook her head and turned away, all the while muttering more words beneath her breath. Giinthil sighed, looking back at her friend. Turning around, she continued heading for the barracks, hoping to get there soon
Afternoon disappeared, and nightfall rolled in.
A/N: Reviews and advice are greatly appreciated. This is going to be a bit of a mix between Oblivion & Skyrim. Updates will unfortunately be slower than I'd like ;(.