Chapter 1: Deep Is The Cut

The thick summer air hung heavy in the room. Ragna leaned against his workbench and sighed. He didn't have to examine his finger very closely to know the cut went straight to the bone. The white phalange stared back at him like an old lover. Luckily he hadn't hit an artery, but in all honesty…did he really care? Blood had gushed from his body many times in the arena and on the battlefield. He let his mind wander even deeper into that morose place it often visited. Why not just bleed out and get it over with? His hand shaking, he set the carving knife aside and begrudgingly began stitching up the wound.

As he finished mending his finger, the shop door opened, and in stepped a High Elf in her early twenties, with a face of exceptional beauty. She looked to be every bit of seven feet tall as she stooped to prevent knocking her head against the timbered ceiling. She moved with caution, determined that her long, gangly legs would not get in the way of each other, and still, she almost tripped! Her large, jade colored eyes surveyed the modest crafting shop, before focusing on the middle-aged man leaning against the workbench. She couldn't help but notice the black war paint that circled each of his eyes. The dark ink of the tattoo made his ice-blue eyes look even brighter. She thought to herself, Maybe Wyn was right. He really was a fighter, before he got so…decrepit looking! In a calm but high pitched voice she said, "Hail. Are you Ragna Greybeard?" Ragna tugged on the grey beard that covered his neck and nodded. She grinned, "Why…yes, of course. Muddle-headed me." It didn't take long for Ragna to feel uncomfortable in her presence. In the old days, he would have sought out her affection in any number of ways. But today, looking at her golden skin and flowing blonde hair, he just felt older and balder than ever, like an old stallion put out to pasture.

"My name's Aiz'lee," she said. "I have it on good authority, you're the best leather worker in Vulkhel Guard." He offered no reply, so she continued, "I'm in need of a new saddle for my Senche-tiger, and I'm willing-"

Ragna interrupted her, "Never made one for a big feline, but shouldn't be much different than a horse. I'll need some measurements."

Aiz'lee tilted her head to the side, as High Elves often do, "Fantabulous. My mount's right outside."

Before Aiz'lee could utter another word, Ragna started to whimper, grinding his jaw from side to side. He grabbed hold of the workbench hard, as if he was preparing for gale force winds. The High Elves' jaw fell open as tears started to stream down the man's face. She tilted her head yet again, "I'm sorry Sir…are you alright?" Without a word, Ragna turned, shielding his face, and trudged out the backdoor.

Peering through an open shop window, Aiz'lee watched him retreat to a woodshed where he fell to his knees, and burst into a full-fledged sob. She mumbled, "Divines protect us," then raised her voice, "I'm staying at the Salted Wings Tavern if you need me!" and with that, she departed.

Ragna stayed by the woodshed and cried for a good five or six minutes. He knew it was best to let it run its course, otherwise it would drag on forever. Unfortunately, these crying fits seemed to come at the least opportune times. The last time it happened, he was in the middle of pummeling a foul-mouthed Orc at the Drunken Duck Pub. He had no idea what these fits were about, or what triggered them, and that worried him. He always prided himself on the fact that the last time he shed a tear…he was a milk drinking pup. But that wasn't the case now, not since two moons ago. That was also about the time he started hearing the voices. He shook his head, Finally…losing my mind. Or maybe it's a sign? He picked himself up off the ground as thunder broke in the distance and clouds darker than obsidian started rolling in. Looks like a big rain coming.

Little did he know the rain was going to last for weeks.

A month later, and the driving rain still fell from the night sky. Inside the Salted Wings Tavern, barrels collected rain water as it dripped through the shingled roof, creating a cacophony of plops and splashes. Aiz'lee sat at one of the dryer, corner tables, glumly sipping a glass of wine, while her companion, a diminutive Wood Elf named Tealeaf, ordered another Iron-Bog Ale. Tealeaf's full lips, tiny chin and angular eyebrows gave her an attractive appearance. And typical for her race, all parts of her eyes were dark, making her look like she was part deer. The two females sat quietly watching the other patrons laugh and mingle about…until Aiz'lee finally spoke up. "I'm sick of all this precipitation. It's been twenty-eight days straight for Divine's sake!"

Tealeaf loosened the straps on her open-toed boots and quipped, "That's a record, Kid. And I'm not talking about the damn rain, I mean you not talking. What was that…a whole five minutes of silence?"

Aiz'lee grimaced. "I'm serious. If it rains any more, this whole town is going to float away. The villagers at the lower elevations have already been flooded out and there's no ward or incantation that will make it stop. Believe me, I've tried. I even talked to Master Telleno at the Mage's Guild." Tealeaf's only response was a dour look before rolling her eyes.

As soon as a young Khajiit boy delivered the fresh ale to their table, Tealeaf tilted the heavy mug back for a long, healthy swig. The boy stood there gawking at the round welts that covered her taut, muscular arms. "What's that on your arms? I hope you don't mind me asking."

Tealeaf slammed the mug back on the table and frowned, "You are an inquisitive bugger, hey?" The boy shrugged, so she continued, "Where I come from, these represent tribal achievements, and so far I've got thirty-two of them." Growing impatient, she pointed at one of the scars, "And you know what this one's for?" The boy's eyes grew large. "Killing a hundred Khajiit!" she yelled, prompting the boy to run off like his tail was on fire.

The two females chuckled as they hoisted their drinks for a toast. Aiz'lee said, "Nicely done. You didn't really kill a hundred Khajiit…did you?"

Tealeaf looked disappointed, "Don't you remember? My husband is Khajiit."

Aiz'lee scratched her head. "Oh sure," she replied and giggled, "Muddle-headed me."

A woman, her identity concealed by a long, hooded robe entered the tavern and with a few quick flicks of her right arm, shook the water off her silver and black garments. Even in the dimly lit tavern, her robe appeared slightly luminous, as if the metallic threads were gently pulsing with light. The woman curtsied to an old man, then proceeded directly towards Aiz'lee and Tealeaf's table and sat down. Tealeaf whispered. "Wyn! What in blue blazes took you so long?"

The woman made sure her over-sized hood was still covering her face before speaking. "I ran into Imperial bounty-hunters on the Phaer River Road, and even in the rain, it took a while to lose them." Like a knee-jerk reaction, Tealeaf's hand automatically tightened around the dagger that hung from her belt. Knowing that Tealeaf was prone to over reacting, Wyn immediately placed a hand on her friend's forearm. "No worries Sister. I left them far behind, at least for now." Wyn then turned her attention to Aiz'lee. "And what's the verdict on Ragna Greybeard? Do you think he's reliable?"

Aiz'lee leaned forward, "Absolutely not. Not in this era or the next. He's suffering from all kinds of ailments, he's emotionally out of control, and he looks…well, he looks as old as the Velothi Mountains."

Wyn sneered. "Careful now Sister, I'm not far from his age." Tealeaf joined in, "I have to agree with Aiz'lee. We can't trust someone who bawls like a baby."

Wyn's eyes narrowed into thin slits. "I understand your reluctance. But my visions have never failed me, Ladies. He possesses something we cannot do without if we are to be successful in this venture. Unfortunately, what that something is, I'm just not sure of, yet." Pensive, Wyn gently rubbed her left hand which appeared to hang limply by her side. "And how did your new saddle turn out?"

Aiz'lee looked conflicted. "I have to admit, the saddle's perfect. Outstanding workmanship really."

Wyn took a deep breath, "Very good. Then please set up a meeting so we can discuss the mission at length with him. We can meet here or at his shop."

Aiz'lee shook her head vehemently, "There's no way he's going to do that."

Wyn continued, "Alright. So be it. You have connections, speak with the Queen. He cannot refuse an audience with her."Aiz'lee smiled ear-to-ear, happy that she would have a reason to speak with the Queen. "Fantabulous."

As the trio continued talking, a hulking, one-eyed Orc mercenary, and five of his cronies approached their table. Reeking of alcohol, the leader wiped snot from his nose ring before speaking. "Praise my lucky war hammer. Three lively wenches, ripe for the picking." The color in Tealeaf's cheeks went from coral to dark red in about a second.

Aiz'lee immediately stood up, "Greetings and salutations. I'm from House Fairwen, a personal envoy of Queen Ayrenne. And if you must know, my preference is for ladies not men, so nothing personal to you or your compatriots, Sir." Wyn added, "In other words, thanks Brother, but we're not interested."

The Orcs shook with laughter, as they circled even tighter around the women. The Orc leader spat. "We don't give a skeever's arse what you like, or who your daddy is. We do as we please. Got it?" He reached down and grabbed Wyn's left arm like he was going to sling her over his shoulder, but the appendage just flopped about like it was barely attached to her body.

Wyn closed her eyes and in an instant her robe glowed white, searing a layer of skin right off Nose-ring's hand. "Yeeow!" he screamed. "You're gonna pay for that, bit-!"

Before Nose-ring could finish speaking, Tealeaf had transformed herself into a full-blown, black-as-night, werewolf. She howled as she lunged at the Orc, wrapping her claws around his stout neck and catapulting him clear across the room. The tavern erupted with patrons screaming and diving for cover. "Kura-Meip!" yelled Aiz'lee as she thrust her lighting staff overhead. The room shook as thick strands of electricity flew forth, landing on three of the Orcs, knocking them down in their tracks.

Wyn inconspicuously drew her own staff out, a long piece of twisted nightwood that held an opalescent gemstone in one end. She slammed the rod to the floor, casting an ethereal rune of protection over the entire room. That would prevent any of the Orcs from suffering complete defeat, i.e. death. She knew the last thing they needed to do was to eliminate any of the Dominion's forces, even if they were barbaric soldiers of fortune, such as these.

The fight barely lasted thirty seconds. But it was long enough to turn all of the Orcs into an pile of unconscious green flesh on the floor. Still enraged and foaming at the mouth, Tealeaf leapt out the nearest window, and disappeared into the wet night, a distant howl her only communication. Inside the tavern, as the smoke cleared and the smell of charred flesh started to dissipate, Wyn and Aiz'lee set the tables and chairs back in their proper places.

Looking around at the spooked patrons and staff, Wyn grew worried. She raised her right arm high into the air. "Uhm, excuse me dear citizens! We are sorry for the distraction. And therefore…the drinks are on us!" That seemed to placate everyone, as they stampeded towards the bar, trampling right over top of the unconscious Orcs on the floor.

The rain slowed to a steady drizzle as Ragna stood with his hands on his hips in the middle of his garden. The ground looked more like a swamp than anything else. He reached down, sticking his hand deep into the mud until he could find the tender leaves of the mandrake plant and pull it out of the ground. He inspected the young plant closely and to his dismay found the roots shriveled, black and…rotten. "Fivefold curses upon you, rain," he said.

"No, the curse is on us," came the voice from behind him. Startled, he turned around to see that it was the attractive High Elf who bought the new saddle. Aiz'lee continued, "Hail. That looks like mandrake, yes?"

Ragna stared at her with a blank expression, clearly in no mood to talk.

Aiz'lee continued, "Well, it's extremely rare and a narcotic."

Ragna flexed his jaw. "That's right, it's also a reagent used in herbal remedies, as if it were any business of yours." He then tossed the plant to the ground and said, "Look. I have a no-return policy on all my saddles. The sign is right on the counter. If you don't like it…too bad."

Aiz'lee was starting to lose her patience. "No, that's not why I'm here." She abruptly handed him a small envelope and said, "A request from Her Majesty, Queen Ayrenne. I assume you can read?"

Ragna shot her a scorching look before breaking the wax seal on the envelope.

Aiz'lee bowed stiffly, then turned to leave. "Best of luck," she said, even though she didn't really mean it.