Diplomatic Impunity
Vilhelm bodily shoved Etienne out of the hole and into the street. He climbed up after him, and then pulled Lydia out behind him.
"Well, my thane, it seems that as expected, quiet is not one of your strong points."
"With this must testosterone, it's hard to be stealthy. Now, I think we should be going before those pointy eared thugs show up. Do you need a ride there, Etienne?"
"It would be most appreciated, my good man. Thanks for pulling me out back there. Bad luck about that other chap though."
"I didn't know him long, and I don't think he really liked me, but he was a good elf."
"My thane, we have company!" interrupted Lydia. Vilhelm turned and saw two Thalmor in their rather pretentious looking armor. One raised his arm, and a shard of ice formed in the air. Etienne took off like a jackrabbit. The shard flew overhead, and crashed into a wall, sending shards of ice raining down. Vilhelm raised his gun and fired a couple rounds, but they both went high, though the Thalmor ducked. The was sure to be more coming.
About that time, a truck drove by, the gray scheme and insignia designating it as an Imperial truck.
"Get in," shouted a blonde haired Breton. The truck didn't really stop, but kept rolling down the hill, towards the gate of the Thalmor complex.
"Well, the dame finally showed up. You first Lydia, I'll cover you." Lydia nodded, and managed to get into the truck, with some struggling. Vilhelm raised his arm, and let the magika flow, formed a flaming ball, and sent it flying at the Thalmor. Lydia managed to get herself situated in the back of the truck, and then slammed a fresh clip into her gun, a high caliber SMG. It was the last clip. She raised it, and fired at the pursuing elves. The rounds knocked the armored elves off their feet, but failed to penetrate the enchanted armor.
It still gave enough time for Vilhelm to jump into the back of the truck. "I only have a few rounds left, and it doesn't seem like they will do much against their armor."
"We just need to get out of here. Help me grab Etienne." Lydia nodded. The truck rolled past the thief, picking up speed, but not in gear yet. The Breton ran desperately trying to keep up. The two in the truck reached out, and managed to grab the man and pull him into the back of the truck. The back of the truck was pretty empty, except for a few gold coins, which Vilhelm pocketed.
"Floor it Delphine." The Breton nodded, and kicked the truck into gear, accelerating towards the front gate. As she approached, more elves began to run out. A fireball hit the road where the truck had just been, sending flames exploding up everywhere. Luckily, the canvas cover on the truck didn't catch fire, soaked as it was with snow and ice.
"Getting a bit toasty in here lads," shouted Etienne. Delphine was about to make a remark, when she noticed the gate beginning to close. She pushed the pedal even further, and the truck crashed through the gate before it could fully close. At least the Imperials built their equipment sturdy. Vilhelm looked back with concern as several Thalmor mounted motorcycles and began chasing after them. He sent an ice spike at one of them, which crashed through the spokes of one wheel, and sent the cycle skidding into a snowbank.
One of the pursuing Thalmor pulled out an ornate pistol and fired. A high caliber round missed the occupants in the back of the truck, and slammed into the divider between the cab and rest of the vehicle. Electricity crackled from the spot, sending sparks flying everywhere.
"Perhaps I should have tried to be a bit stealthier. But it might not have mattered, after they caught Malborn."
"We have been in worst spots my thane. But it will be too soon if we have to fight another troll." Lydia rubbed her jaw, then shouldered her weapon, determined to make the rest of her ammo count.
About that time, Delphine was sure becoming concerned in her ability to keep the truck on the road in these icy conditions, though in Skyrim one expects the roads to be both icy and ill-maintained. She contemplated slowing down, when something forced her to do so. A car pulled out in front, skidding right in front of her.
The car's design and coloring screamed Altmer design, both artistic and sickening at the same time. But the most concerning thing was the large gun pointing out of the back. The Thalmor machine gunner opened up. The Windshield starred, and then began the shatter. It was tough, and probably enchanted, but even it couldn't handle the devastating fusillade. Shards of glass rained down on the Breton Blade. Delphine looked over, and saw several bullet holes in the seat next to her, ice and frost expanding from each.
"Of course they are using enchanted frost rounds. Nothing is ever simple with the Dovakhin."
A few hours earlier...
A rather old and beat up car rattled down the streets of Solitude. It had taken some convincing to get Delphine to agree to let him use her car, but she had relented in the end. It had been a rather long time, and as any true Nord knows, roads without potholes are for the weak. If the trip of this distance had taken place in Cyrodil, it would have been hours shorter. At least nothing crazy had happened on the way.
Lydia looked at the map of Solitude. The old city was a twisting mass of streets, and far too many were one way. The main section of the town was pretty easy to navigate, but if you got off the main road, it could quickly become very confusing. The Castle Dour broke high above the city, an old fortress, transformed for a newer age. With its quadruple AA turrets pointed skywards and gleaming barrels of powerful artillery protruding from ancient stone walls, topped with barbed wire, it was either a symbol of comfort and Imperial protection, or a symbol of despair and Imperial oppression.
"Turn left up here. The Winking Skeever should be right over there." Vilhelm nodded at Lydia's direction, and made a quick turn. Wet slush sprayed up under the tires, and splattered a few patrolling legionnaires, earning some glares. Vilhelm just smiled and waved. "You know, you are allowed to slow down a little before turning, my thane."
"Where is the fun in that?"
"We don't need a traffic violation. This is a mission that requires subtlety."
"I can be subtle...I just choose not to. Ah, there it is. The Winking Skeever. Hopefully, they serve more than just skeever. I'm not really a fan, even if the skeever has personality."
"A creative name brings in more customers."
"So, who are we supposed to meet?" asked Vilhelm, as he pulled the car up and attempted to park on a street, and failing miserably. Lydia glanced at the note Dephine had scribbled.
"Malborn, a Bosmer who works at the embassy." The housecarl looked up. "Well, shall we go in Dovakhin?"
"Let us see what information this tree-hugger has for us."
"Please don't call him that..." The two exited the car, and walked towards the door. Lydia sighed at the parking job, and followed Vilhelm in. The counter was occupied by an Imperial. A scattering of patrons filled the tables, enjoying food and drink. Several Imperial legionnaires were clustered near the jukebox. Several local girls were nearby, trying to get the soldiers attention, not that it was difficult. At the moment, the jukebox was playing a pro-imperial ballad.
In the corner, Vilhelm noticed a Bosmer, who looked extremely skittish. "I am pretty sure that is our man, or elf. I'll go have a chat." whispered Vilhelm, not very quietly.
"Of course." Lydia glanced around, but no one was staring too suspiciously at them. "I'll be over at that table, getting some food."
"Order me a drink. I don't care what kind, as long as there is a lot of it."
"Of course, my thane." Lydia walked over and sat down, only a short distance from the elf. Vilhelm went joined the Bosmer.
"Delphine sent me. So I assume you are Malborn the tree elf?"
"We prefer the term Bosmer or wood elf. I don't have much time." The elf glanced around really nervously. "I can't be gone to long."
"Well, I will make this quick. But before, we get started, I need to take care of something." Vilhelm got up, and walked over to the jukebox. He pulled out a few septims and dropped them in the machine, and selected a different track. The soldiers glared at him, but didn't do anything. Soon, the room was filled with a new version of the old ballad "The Dragonborn Comes." Vilhelm went and sat back down.
"This is my favorite song." He paused a second, and then whispered to the elf, "I'm the Dragonborn you know."
"I don't care if your Mehrunes Dagon, if my boss finds me here, There won't be enough left of me to fit in a burial urn. Now, I can smuggle some stuff in for you, because you won't be able to take anything with you at all. They will catch and confiscate anything that is enchanted. Trust me, not even the head of the Thieves Guild could smuggle in a lockpick."
"Alright, but I might need quite a bit of stuff."
"I can carry a lot, Dovakhin," the elf said, in an almost mocking tone.
"No need to get your branches ruffled. Oh, we might have a small problem. I happen to be wearing the clothes I would like smuggled in." At the nearby table, Lydia sighed. "I'll just be in the restroom. Don't worry, this will be quick."
The Dragonborn returned shortly and handed Malborn a variety of things. The elf placed everything into a satchel, and left quite quickly.
"Wow, he made like a tree and leafed."
"My thane, perhaps you should leave the jokes to a trained bard. I have a drink for you." Lydia slid a large mug of mead over to the Dragonborn, who drained it in one gulp.
"I am hungry. Hopefully, this isn't skeever."
"No, I think it is just beef."
"It doesn't appear to be winking. I guess the winking cow wouldn't get as much attention."
"When do we need to meet Delphine?"
Vihelm looked at the clock on the wall. "Well, I would say, in about ten minutes."
"So, we are going to be late." The two finished eating rather quickly. Vilhelm inhaled his food with a gusto only matched by a werewolf, and the two quickly left, after thanking the innkeeper for the food. Outside, they were fortunate that the car started, and the water in the radiator wasn't frozen. They left the city, driving pas the ancient gate, and into the scattering of suburbs that had sprung up outside the boundaries of the old city.
They soon found the battered pick-up truck of one Orgnar of Riverwood. Standing nearby was everyone's favorite Breton, Delphine, with her characteristically happy demeanor. Meaning she was only slightly annoyed.
"Hey there Sugar lips," greeted the Dovakhin. Delphine sighed.
"If I didn't know better, I would have thought a daedric prince chose the dragonborn just to make my life miserable." She shook her head. "Your late. Did you talk to Malborn?"
"Yes, I gave him all the necessary supplies. So, how are we getting to this party?"
"They will be sending a car and chauffeur. I have your invitation and some nice clothes. Hopefully, the suit fits. Can you tie a bowtie?"
"Of course. I am a classy man. I am most awesome when wearing formal clothes." Neither of the woman were convinced of this, but they had long since learned it was impossible to deflate his ego. Delphine handed Vilhelm the clothes.
"You can change in that storage room. Katla left it unlocked for us." In a short time, the Dragonborn returned, and actually looked rather spiffy. "Not bad. Here is your invitation."
"Vilhelm of Whiterun. You used my real name. Is that a good idea? I am pretty famous as the Dragonborn."
"Your not that well known yet my Thane," commented Lydia. "Let me adjust your bowtie." Lydia stepped up fiddled with it. Delphine continued to brief the Dragonborn.
"Your car is just pulling up. You should arrive in time to be fashionably late. Slip away as soon as you can. We have to find out what the Thalmor know. And feel free to make life a little miserable for Elenwen, after you get what you need."
"So, what is my exit?"
"There are caves under the embassy, some used for sewage and power lines. You can probably exit through there." Lydia stepped back and examined her handiwork.
"You look nearly as handsome as you think you are, my thane. I will try to infiltrate the tunnels and meet you."
"And I will be nearby. I'll try to find a ride," added Delphine. "Probably just commandeer an Imperial vehicle. The Blades are technically high ranking Imperial soldiers. And we won't have to worry about the embassy contacting the Solitude garrison. The telegraph lines are down again. Probably some troll."
"You are quite good at your job, Toots. And by radio?"
"They won't be able to get a message out on the wireless in weather, at least not very clearly. And my name is Delphine. I would appreciate if you would use it. Now, your ride is getting impatient."
"Okay. Can I get a good luck kiss?"
"How about a good luck punch in the jaw?" asked the Blade. Vilhelm got in the car. A Bosmer attendant opened the door for him. Just before the door closed, Vilhelm sent one last barb at Delphine.
"See you on the flipside, Sweets." The limousine pulled away, and wound up a twisting road towards the Thalmor embassy.
"So, do you think he can do it?" asked the housecarl.
"Do what? Stop the dragons? Or complete this mission?"
" Both."
"I don't know about the dragons, but he has talent and skill. And we don't really have a choice. As for this mission, if he can leave the party and get his stuff, he can. But I don't think it will be very stealthy."
The wound its way up a winding road, its headlights barely piercing the gloom. There was a flutter of snowflakes descending, but the road was largely uncovered. The Bosmer attendant skillfully maneuvered the car without incident. Vilhelm sat in the back, enjoying the nice seats. He was actually a little worried about this mission. He wasn't afraid of the Thalmor, though perhaps he should have been. But, this mision wasn't his forte.
He was much more capable of causing a ruckus than avoiding one. He wondered by Delphine would send him, instead of someone more capable and stealthy, but then he remembered her personality. She probably didn't have any friends to call on, not to mention she was busy being in hiding. This mission put her at risk too, but there wasn't much of a choice.
The car arrived, late as expected, but Vilhelm found he wasn't the only late one. Another man had just arrived as well.
"Hello. I see I am not the only one that is a little late."
"The most important guests always arrive last."
"And what importance are you known for?"
"Oh, there are so many things, I don't want to bore you with the details." Vilhelm flexed his arms. "But mostly, I am extremely popular with the ladies." The other man laughed, and offered his hand.
"The name is Razelan, nice to know someone with a sense of humor will be here."
"Vilhelm of Whiterun," replied the Dovakin, and gave Razelan a strong shake. The two walked up to the door, and were let into a small foyer. Even here, Vilhelm was impressed with the architecture. Horrible individuals they may be, but they certainly had a flair for the ornate. Vilhelm was searched first, and it was a little demeaning. But, the guards were satisfied eventually, and the invitation was note questioned.
"Try not to enjoy yourselves too much." Vilhelm winked at one of the guards. He received a very venomous look, but then was allowed into the main hall. Elenwen had prepared a very elaborate reception, certainly to show these human barbarians how superior the elves were. A band was playing live music in the corner. They were singing in elvish, and Vilhelm couldn't help notice how beautiful the Altmer singer was, but was interrupted by the hostess herself.
"I don't recognize you. What was your name again?"
"I'll tell you if you tell me yours."
"I'm Ambassador Elenwen, this is my reception." She seemed a little suspicious, but Vilhelm was certain of his charms.
"Your the Ambassador? I was expecting someone a little older and more...well. Like that," said Vilhelm, motioning to Jarl Ravencrone. "I didn't expect such a lovely creature such as yourself."
"I would keep such thoughts to yourself. But, you have not answered by question."
"Of course. I am Vilhelm of Whiterun. I have a lot of influence across several holds, including Whiterun, of course. I am exactly the type of person you want on your side."
"I see. You do intrigue me, in a very disturbing way."About that time, Malborn walked up, and offered Vilhelm a drink. Vilhelm graciously accepted, and Elenwen was distracted by the arrival of Razelan, who had just then got through security. Vilhelm knocked the drink back.
"Jsut let me know when you are ready to slip away. You'll have to cause some sort of distraction, the guards are watching." Malborn motioned to several Thalmor standing at attention around the room.
"I'll let you know when I'm ready." Vilhelm looked around, trying to figure a way to cause a distraction without being the center of it. Despite being in Skyrim for some time, he didn't know anyone here at the reception, though he had heard of the other Jarls. While he was thinking, he decided to sit down next to Razelan.
"So, my good man, how is the party so far?" asked Razelan, pulling out a cigar.
"Allow me." Vilhelm looked around, and when he saw no guards was looking, let a small burst if flame ignite the end of Razelan's cigar.
"You a mage?"
"I dabble a bit, but I am not particularly skilled. Party isn't too bad, but there aren't enough dames. Could use more drinking too."
"I know. What does one have to do to get a drink around here?"
"Well, I could just ask the twig behind the bar, but I have a better idea." Vilhelm got up, and made his way across the room. A Bosmer girl was walking around, a tray of Colovian Brandy in her hand. Vilhelm walked up, and made sure to make eye contact with her. She stopped, and looked at him.
"Can I give you a drink, sir?"
"How does a fragile Valenwood flower like you end up in this frozen wasteland? Not that I am complaining. You seemed to have bloomed quite well."
"I have other guests to attend to. Please excuse me."
"None as handsome as me, but before you go, can I have a drink?"
"Yes, of course."
"Do your drinks come with a kiss?"
"No, but it may come with a slap."
"Feisty... well, thanks for the drink, but I think I will forgo the slap." Vilhelm took the drink, and the elf hurried away, not at all pleased. Vilhelm returned to Razelan.
"You certainly have a way with women," laughed the man.
"Oh, I can tell, she was quite taken. Here is your drink, by the way."
"Thank you. If you ever need something of me, you have only to ask."
"How good are you at causing a small, non-violent ruckus?"
"Oh. I can be very distracting."
"Excellent. I'll give you a signal. But first, I need a drink of my own." Vilhelm walked over to Malborn. "I think I will have something to drink. A bottle of ale would be nice."
"Of course." Malborn handed the Nord a bottle. Vilhelm opened it up, and drained over half of it.
"Okay, I think I have a distraction ready. I'll signal when I am ready." Vilhelm finished his drink. "Another bottle please."
"Are you sure this is wise? You are about to embark..."
"It helps me think better."
"That is not how alcohol works." Malborn might have protested further, but one of the guards looked at him, and he quickly just handed Vilhelm another drink. Vilhelm drank that, and then turned and caught Razelan's eye. The man got up, and began to make a very loud toast to Lady Elenwen, and her generosity and beauty.
"That is our queue."
"This way." Malborn led the way behind the bar and into the kitchens.
"Malborn, what are you doing back here? Your supposed to be tending the bar." The cook looked suspiciously at the two.
"One of the guests is having trouble with his liquor."
"Yes, crazy elven alcohol, wrecking havoc on my delicate constitution," gagged Vilhelm. He made a retching noise and lurched towards the cook.
"Um, please, get him a potion or something Malborn." The cook scuttled a way, a very disgusted look on her face. Malborn nodded and led Vilhelm into a back room.
"Your stuff is in that trunk. I will leave you a moment to get ready." The Bosmer turned and looked out into the kitchen. The cook, and several other staff were busy preparing more appetizers and drinks, and placing them on trays. When he turned around, he expected to see an armored and uniformed warrior, but instead saw the Dragonborn in another tuxedo, complete with bowtie.
"Where is your armor?"
"Oh, this is enchanted suit." He rapped his dress shirt. "There is armor underneath. And trust me, I am well armed. I like to look my best when infiltrating high class places."
"Whatever you say Dragonborn. Now, this way." Malborn led Vilhelm behind some shelves of supplies and out another door. "This is the interior of the Embassy. Your on your own from here. Elenwen's private office and all the really secret Thalmor stuff is in a building in the center of a guarded courtyard. It looks small, but a lot of it is underground. Good luck."
"Thanks for your help Malborn. Perhaps we will meet again." Vilhelm slipped through the door, and looked at the ornate hallways and even more ornate doors. The fun was just getting started.