It was a cold night as a blizzard was blowing through the area at the Nightgate Inn and Fultheim was sitting at his table with his usual drink. The door suddenly opened with a cloaked figure walking in. The person looked around, checking how many eyes were in the area before sitting on the stool in front of Hadring the innkeeper.

"Clam Chowder, Black-Briar Mead, Horker Stew and Surilie Brothers Wine." He placed a coin pouch large enough to pay for the order, but it was far too much for one person alone. Hadring could only guess he was ordering for two and whatever it was they were about to talk about wasn't for his ears. Hadring pulled out the two bottles as he cooked up the stew and chowder.

After Hadring finished with the first bowl a new cloaked figure entered the tavern. This one was Argonian judging by the horns protruding from the back of the hood and the scaly dark brown tail swinging behind. Hadring quickly finished the second bowl and moved to the cellar to give them privacy.

"So what's this about and why have you called me out here?" judging by the voice this Argonian was a female.

"With everything you've done, this should be a cakewalk for you. And too many ears would only make matters worse." The Argonian started to eat her stew as she listened, "I found something rather interesting in one of my jaunts. It won't make someone rich or anything like that, but I'd rather not continue without someone like you."

"Someone who has survived their deathtraps before?"

"Someone who has successfully navigated their way through multiple Dwemer ruins, destroyed any obstacles, be it Falmer, Dwemer constructs or bandits, while mastering their puzzles and riddles. Not to mention your natural water breathing ability as an Argonian." She didn't seem all that comforted by these facts, though she did not do most of these tasks because she wanted to. "You will be compensated of course. I just need some help in clearing the area and uncovering what secrets these ruins hold."

"Most secrets are just forges, relics and the like. Very few times have I ever found anything particularly…special," lying due to the dangers those secrets truly posed, though she was rather convincing in the fib.

"As I'm sure many things would not last this long with neglect and unattended maintenance being their downfall. But it is a rather simple request for someone of your capabilities, wouldn't you agree?"

Three years, it's been three years since that fated day I was captured crossing into Skyrim and the return of the dragons halted my execution by Imperial blade. Fate seemed intent on ensure I returned to the path I had thought shunned me, only to find it was I who shunned from it. As often as I tried to forget my past it only seemed to find me even faster. I was once a child of shadow, know to my people as a Shadowscale, a blade to the King of Argonia to cut out violence before they could begin. I was but one of a handful of children who were selected to be trained in the ways of the shadow before they started talking about stop training new Shadowscales, the last as we were often called by our mentors due to this age of relative peace for Argonia.

For fourteen years of our lives they trained us as Shadowscales; survival tactics, blending into cities and disappearing, perfecting our ability to hunt and kill our prey in a multitude of ways; be it blade, arrow, poison or magic. Unlike Shadowscales of old, they trained us in Argonia instead of sending us off to train with the Dark Brotherhood. That was because the Dark Brotherhood has been in decline over the centuries, they had to do things differently for us. And it was because of that decline we were sent off to aid the ailing Dark Brotherhood throughout Tamriel, due to our commonality in following Sithis. Many of my comrades had little faith in Sithis, as did I, especially after that day…

The caravan I was a part of had half of the trainees planned to be transported halfway across Tamriel but we were attacked by raiders. They seemed to know we were no ordinary travelers, having vastly superior numbers and equipment far better than common raiders to capture us alive. We fought back and killed many of them but there were too many. Our escorts were killed and we were taken captive. Their intentions became clear when we overheard some of them talking about turning us to be used for their services or selling off the more troublesome ones to slavers. That attack has forever left its mark on me; a Khajiit among them scratched my face leaving with its claws, giving me three claw scars vertically over my left eye. My eye still works, but I would soon get revenge just the same.

My escape is not one that I am proud of, but it has served me well for a number of occasions, most I'd rather not remember. Even though I was Saxhleel, better known as Argonian to the mammals, one of the humans could not resist his lust and having his way with me while I was 'bound and helpless'. In truth even in this state I was more than enough to kill a man, but I bide my time, patiently waiting until he had me alone in his tent, and was at his most vulnerable. I masked his dying breath with his howl of ecstasy.

It would seem the others were not willing to become servants either, but from the commotion it would seem they weren't as successful or patient. Undoing the bonds, I gathered what few weapons were in the tent and proceeded to silently killing off the sellswords I came across. Apparently I wasn't clean enough because the leader of their group started to demand that I show myself or he would start killing off my egg-brothers and egg-sisters. I would not allow them to have their way any longer, but I couldn't rush in rashly, not with an archer and five others they would easily overwhelm me. I waited, forcing them to try and flush me out of hiding. I picked them off one by one, until only the archer and the leader were left. Their leader had been killing off my egg-brothers and egg-sisters anyway, for every one of his men I disposed of he took a life until only one was left.

In my anger I threw a dagger at the archer, killing him with the blade finding its mark in his eye as I charged at the leader with sword in hand. The sellsword had no honor, trying to use my last egg-brother as a shield to avert me, but I was going too fast and blinded by anger to stop myself. I killed them both with a single strike through their hearts. That was the day I had assumed Sithis had abandoned me. In my shocked state I staggered away from their campsite, trying to reconsolidate myself with the events that had just transpired.

I wondered for years, using the skills taught to me to remain in the dark portions of history. I wished to find something to answer my questions, why were we abandoned like that, why were there no Dark Brotherhood sanctuaries that I could find that weren't destroyed, and who was the traitor who sold us out? I found no answers in Cyrodill, and Morrowind was nothing more than a pile of ash. Elsweyr's deserts gave me no comfort nor could I stand its heat. What brought me to Skyrim, even to this day I am not certain, but what was certain was that fate had found its hold of me once more and thrust me into a position of power I never wanted.

The Nords of the region hold great respect for my new title, the Thalmor despise me, and the Empire fears me. I am Deesh-Lursha Taiersareeth, and I am Dovahkiin, Dragonborn, slayer of Alduin the World Eater, Hero of Skyrim, a member of the Dawnguard, Harbinger of the Companions, Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild, Listener to the Dark Brotherhood, Arch-Mage of Winterhold, Thane in ever hold of Skyrim. I have made many enemies but I've made just as many allies and individuals who might be willing to aid me, as well as the favor to a number of the Daedric Princes. Yet despite all of the allies, I still remain alone during my travels out of instinct and fear for their safety. Alone I travel faster, can conceal my movements rather easily and cut a swath through my enemies without them realizing it, but there are times when it does get rather lonely.

For a time I thought I might be able to reconnect with Veezara, a fellow Shadowscale who continued to remain with the meager sect of the Dark Brotherhood in Skyrim, but events cascaded to the point that I couldn't save him from the Penitus Oculatus attack on the Falkreath Sanctuary. To have reconnected with him, I don't even know if he remembered me from our days of training. Veezara was wrong about one thing though, there were two Shadowscales left and now I am the last outside of Argonia, and my past will die with me when the time is appropriate.

There seemed to be something different about these ruins. She couldn't place why, but Deesh didn't like it. She might not know a thing about architecture, but she had seen enough Dwarven ruin to know that this was not how they designed them, glorification and bronze-like metal monuments, not this…silver colored monument. Maybe this was what the human was so interested in. The air wasn't filled with the rank of sweating men or orcs, nor was it heavily filled with the decay of death. The air was filled with the smells insects and others. With that she knew the passages were filled with Falmer and their pets, and possibly any number of Dwarven machinery that might trigger along the way.

There wasn't anything wrong in the first few rooms, but evidence of the Falmer presence soon became apparent with a pair of huts and a chaurus hunter flying around. She knew that a chaurus hunter kept close to their nests and chaurus were often used by the Falmer as their eyes. She targeted the chaurus first, taking it out to draw out the Falmer in the area. Quietly, she drew her dragonbone bow she crafted and started to draw her first steel arrow. As she was pulling the string back, several loud noises started to come from deeper in the passage behind the Falmer. A pair of Dwarven Centurions, a number of Dwarven Spheres and Spiders came from the passage to remove the Falmer infestation. There was no need to interfere quite so soon, letting them tire each other out until only one faction remained standing. Typical for Dwarven ruins, however as she watched she spotted frost trolls roaming through the fighting, destroying the sphere constructs.

Trolls? The only time I've seen trolls near Dwemer ruins are when their caves are connected to them or the entrance was in the mountains. Even so, they're usually smart enough to keep out of Falmer territory and away from the Dwemer constructs.

It didn't take long for the Dwarven constructs to come out victorious, though not without significant damage and loss of numbers. Deesh had plenty of steel arrows that she wasn't going to worry about recover them after shooting the constructs. She first took out one of the spheres, quickly pulled out her next arrow and shot the spider that moved to investigate. At this point it should have gotten the attention of the others, which it did as they moved to the 'source' of the arrows.

Deesh had already moved away from her first perch, setting up again and preparing to bring down one of the centurions next. She drew three arrows this time, knowing how tough their metal bodies were, she wasn't going to take the chance that it could still stand after her first shot. All three shot hit their mark, and the massive Dwarven construct toppled over and down the stairwell, temporarily trapping the others behind the toppled giant. Deesh worked quickly to eliminate the second centurion before picking off the rest.

With the first room cleared, Deesh proceeded with caution and continued to eliminate the remaining Falmer, Dwemer machines and disarming any traps set up by either. Once every room had been cleared, she sheathed her weapons away as she moved to a strange pedestal set up around several large mirrors and an orb like feature in the center.

Barely stepping into the room something was triggered and the doors sealed behind her as the mechanism activated. Suddenly she was lifted into the air by unseen forces, bound and unable to move. "Now quit your struggling. You're not going to get hurt if you cooperate."

That voice…

It could only belong to one of the Daedric Princes… and low and behold stood Sanguine, the Daedric Prince of Debauchery. But why here in Dwemer ruins of all places, where nothing could 'enjoy' his debaucherous ways.

The distinct clanking of a wood cane hitting the stone floor started to come closer and the mixed clothed Sheogorath stumbled his way in, "Don't go starting the party without us Sangi! I've got a present for the guest of honor."

An oily green tentacle was the cause behind why she was being restrained in the air as smaller tentacles appeared wrapped around her arms and leg, "But now my Champion, it is time to render your services to me." Several black voids started to emerge as tentacles and eyes popped out of them, and the largest vortex contained the large eye of Hermaeus Mora.

Sanguine threw his arm out wide, getting Sheogorath wrapped around by it, "Now I bet you're wondering; 'Why is a devilishly handsome Daedric Prince like me working with other Daedric Princes?' And the answer is quite simple really. You see me and Sheo here got talking about our new favorite mortal. When it turns out it was you, well things got interesting!"

"And Mora over there proposed a devilishly insane idea!"

"Indeed. You have fallen in favor with quite a few of our fellow Princes, but you have also brought about the ire of others. One of the Daedric Princes whom you have drawn such attention of the latter, Vaermina the Dreamweaver, has gained considerable amount of power but where is unknown, even to me."

Deesh knew she wasn't going anywhere unless it falls to Mora's design, "I'm assuming that's why you drew me here? To command me to find this unknown source of power the Daedric Prince of dreams has gained and sever it?"

"Yes, and had someone not created such oddities, I suspect you would have been none the wiser."

Sheogorath looked up to the main eye that represented Hermaeus, "Come now Hermy, you know I couldn't resist! Oddities, distortions, chaos! Besides I'm sure our Champ here enjoyed the little party at the beginning!"

"Ah, ah," Sanguine waved his finger, "Now remember Sheogorath, parties are my thing."

"Sorry Sangi, won't happen again."

Hermaeus Mora started to move Deesh around now, as a strange nightmarish green portal appeared where the mechanism activated. "That is correct my Champion. However, to ensure that Vaermina does not become aware of our actions, your memories of these events will be erased from your mind before being sent off. Everything that has led you here and everything we have just discussed will be forgotten."

"If that's the case, I've got something to say," Sheogorath postured himself up properly and cleared his throat, "FOieafldksnfoaweiv AFonasdlefuaewmnd."

"You do realize it is only her memories that are being erased, not ours?"

Sheogorath smiled to Sanguine, "Yeah, I know. I just wanted to get that off my chest."

"I should start inviting you to my parties more often."

Hermaeus released his grip on her, "Now go Champion, unveil this mystery and return with more knowledge…"

"Spread some smiles!"

"And don't forget your panties!"

Deesh was flung into the swirling vortex, completely out of control and unable to see where she was going as her vision slowly faded and everything in her mind became a blank.

The Dalish clan Sabrae has just set up camp within the Brecilian Forest. As two of their hunters scouted the territory and cleared out some of the predators they stumbled upon something strange. With bows drawn and arrows notched they moved closer to the unconscious, heavily armed and armored individual with a large weighted tan satchel. The armor looked like it was made from bones and scale of a large beast with many spines, possibly a dragon, and a back with a quiver full of arrows. A sheathed sword rested on the left side of the hip as two daggers were stationed just below the quiver in an X-shape. But there was an oddity with the armor, a long dark brown scaly tail with ridges going down it. In its hand was a bow made of bones with an obsidian grip, the limbs had a few spikes near the grip, possibly for defense to deter melee opponents. But even from a distance it could be told that this bow was crafted by a master artisan.

The helm had four long horns curved back and was far outstanding to cover a normal face. Though why it was like that was revealed when they saw the face. The individual wasn't human, it wasn't even a mammal. The wearer of this armor was some kind of reptile matching the dark brown scales of the tail. The elongated snout almost made this thing look like the depictions of dragons but with a more humanoid body. One of the elvish hunters was about to release his arrow before he was stopped by his partner. "What are you doing?"

"We can't just kill it."

"What are we supposed to do Theron? What if it tries to attack the clan?"

"This thing, whatever it is, must be capable of speech and reasoning if it fights with bow and arrows." Theron grabbed the bow and the being's right arm, "Tamlen, help me get it back to camp."

A/N: With Inquisition around the corner, I thought I'd better get this out before I forget. This is going to be tied to an even bigger project that awaits this poor Argonian. To clarify, Deesh is wearing a full set of Dragonscale armor(with appropriate covering on the back of the helmet), Mehrunes' Razor, Blade of Woe, Dragonbane, the Ghostblade hidden in the armor of her left forearm(magically manipulated to a more gelatinous form for concealment) and plenty more goodies hiding in her bag.