General Arctrius Tullius, the Military Governor of Skyrim. Sometimes he wishes he could just retire, probably return to Cyrodiil and start a business. But recent events would only ensure that that wouldn't happen.
His job was simple; maintain public order in Skyrim while its government handles its own problems. On a regular basis, he would have to assign squads to collect Imperial tax from Skyrim's citizens, a tax that wasn't very popular, but didn't upset the established order. The tax revenue would be transported directly to the Elder Council in the Imperial city, which then provides funds for defense, construction, and trade with Cyrodiil or any other permanent Imperial establishment in Skyrim.
The assassination of the Emperor, however, only proved beneficial to Imperial businesses back home, as profits boomed over the past week. Even in Skyrim, measures needed to be taken. Tullius was required, by order of the Elder Council, to increase security in Skyrim, considering that that's where Mede was assassinated.
Earlier, before Mede died, Tullius had a talk with Commander Maro, the head of the Penitus Ocalatus. Maro had mentioned when they came to Skyrim that the unit had suspicions of a plot to kill the Emperor after Vitoria Vicci was murdered. During their investigation, they uncovered that it was the work of the Dark Brotherhood.
After their successful assassination of the Emperor, they vanished without a trace. The Penitus Ocalatus have tried, and failed to dig up clues, but so far have found no leads. The best Tullius could do was raise troops and fortify Skyrim's cities for better defense, which could ensure the people they are safe; though it didn't seem necessary.
He was in his usual spot of the Castle Dour, waiting for any news to reach him; maybe an emissary could tell him about another small rebellion, or a bandit raid; or maybe someone would be committing tax evasion, or maybe the Thalmor was operating out of their jurisdiction. If only he could do something about those damn High Elves.
In walked Legate Rikke, sword sheathed and her left hand resting on the hilt. She turned to the sitting form of Tullius with a look of formality.
"Tullius," she said her voice stern. "A councilor is here from the Imperial City, he wishes to speak with you." At that, Tullius' brows raised as he quickly stood up from his lazy form. A councilor was here? This must be urgent news.
"A councilor?" Tullius questioned, "Please, do bring him in." Rikke nodded, and turned quickly back out the entrance. Tullius straightened his General's uniform to fit his figure more appropriately; to be more presentable to a councilor from the Elder Council. A moment later, in walked a Breton with a short stature and brown hair. The Breton turned to see Tullius standing with his hands behind his back, maintaining a good posture.
"General Tullius," the Breton said, with a smile forming on his face. He stepped over and extended a hand in greeting. "I am Councilor Amaund Motierre, the Breton representative," Tullius took his hand in a shake, forming a small smirk in his expression.
"It's a pleasure, councilor," Tullius replied, pulling his hand back to his side.
"I've read up on your efforts in the Civil War here in Skyrim," Amaund said. "And I must say that I'm very impressed by your tactical genius at the Siege of Whiterun." Tullius kept a straight face when Amaund brought that battle up; it didn't bring pleasant memories.
"Now, onto the business at hand," Amaund said. Tullius nodded, and then saw Rikke standing at attention in the door frame, watching over the two. "General, I came to you today because I request the presence of one of your soldiers." Tullius raised a brow.
"Who might that be, sir?" Tullius questioned.
"The Dragonborn," Amaund answered simply.
"Legate Constantine?" Tullius said, knowing exactly who it was. "Arminius hasn't reported for duty in a while, ever since he stopped the dragon crisis; not that he ever needed to."
"I simply need you to send an emissary and bring him here," Amaund said. "It is imperative that he returns here quickly."
"I'll get right on it, Councilor," Tullius acknowledged, "But I must ask, what is it you need him for?"
"The answer may surprise you," Amaund said. "The Elder Council recognizes him as one with the dragon blood. They are considering him as a candidate for the throne." From the corner of Tullius' eye, he could see Rikke grew stiff with a shocked expression on her face. Tullius however, remained the same.
"I'm not surprised that you considered him, councilor," Tullius said. "I know him; he is a natural, gifted leader and very well respected among the people here in Skyrim. Not to mention, he is the Dragonborn; and seeing a new Dragonborn assume the throne would be a moment in history."
"I thank you for understanding," Amaund let out a light smile. "Unfortunately, the Elder Council would need a 2/3rds vote in order to appoint him, which would be quite a long and difficult process."
Blacksmithing was a job that Arminius had taken up after the wars. Of course, it wouldn't make sense, considering that there is no war that could benefit the business he worked in. But he worked, and made coin that he probably doesn't even need.
It was something that his uncle-the brother of his adoptive father-had taught him every time he visited him in Anvil when he was a kid. Eventually, next to farming, he got quite decent at it, and occasionally helped him run the business.
Here he was now, a grown man and still helping somebody out in Blacksmithing. Lod was a decent fellow, and paid Arminius kindly; so there was no problem with his after-war life.
Arminius just got done hammering down a hot steel sword, and then dipped it in the cooling water.
"That's good," Lod said, "you can take a break." Arminius nodded to him and undid the knot that held his apron on him. He took it off and tossed it on the railing as he headed down the steps. He backed himself up against a wooden wall and crossed his arms, laying his head back. He was like this for a few moments, until he heard a whispering coming from around the corner. He adjusted his head and noticed a womanly figure in a leather hood peeking out at him, beckoning him to come over.
Curiosity took him, and he approached the figure that retreated back around the corner. Arminius clenched his fist on his sheathed dagger, ready to draw it if the moment was necessary. Turning the corner, he had eyes on her again, waiting for a word.
"Arminius," the figure said. The voice was all too familiar to him; no it couldn't be. The figure pulled down the hood to reveal an aging face and greying hair of Delphine.
"Delphine," Arminius said, his voice becoming stern. "What are you doing here?"
"I've come to tell you that Esbern and I are in danger," she said, "and I ask for your assistance."
"I thought I wasn't welcome among the Blades," he said. "So why would I ever help you?"
"Because it's the Thalmor, they're getting closer and closer to us by the day, and we fear that they may discover our location," Delphine explained.
"Sorry, but I stopped taking orders from you and Esbern when you demanded that I kill Paarthurnax," Arminius said, as he turned away from her, crossing his arms.
"Dammit, Arminius," Delphine sighed, "that doesn't matter anymore. If the Thalmor find us, they will come after you and your family next, so long as they found out about your involvement with us." Arminius shot around at her.
"Leave my family out of this," he demanded, pointing a finger at her. "Why don't you go ask Mjoll for help, or even Marcurio?"
"The team all went their separate ways after you defeated Alduin," Delphine said, "you were the only one I could easily find." Arminius sighed; he didn't want to keep arguing with her.
"Look, just stay in hiding, and pray to the Divines that the Thalmor don't find you," Arminius said, backing to back away with his palm in front of him.
"What would you do if the Thalmor came after you?" Arminius paused in his tracks. "If I were you, I would watch out." Delphine slowly pulled her hood back over her head and turned to walk away. "From what I heard, the Emperor was assassinated, and the Thalmor would no doubt take advantage of that." She began to walk away, but turned her head to make one last statement. "And if you ever decide to change your attitude, come find us, along with the rest of the old team. I fear that we are all in danger."
With that, Arminius watched her walk off into the forest.
"So Delphine visited me today," Arminius said, lying back on his couch. He was watching his wife sit crisscross on the floor, reading a book on Alchemy's effects on the Human and Mer psyche.
"Did she now?" Jenassa replied, not taking her eyes away from the book.
"She mentioned that the Thalmor were onto her and Esbern, and they may even come after us too," Arminius said.
"Then let them, love," Jenassa said, flipping a page of her book. "The Altmer have tried, and failed multiple times to dispatch us. They would stand no chance in our paths."
"But that was during the Dragon crisis," Arminius complained, "we were much more united and lively with the danger over our heads."
"But as husband and wife, we are still united, stronger than ever; are we not?" she said, her red eyes scaling over to the next page.
"It's not just us," Arminius explained, "Delphine mentioned just before she left, that our old team is being hunted by the Thalmor as well." This made Jenassa switch her full focus to Arminius.
"Then Mjoll, Marcurio, and Erik are all in danger," Jenassa said, sitting up.
"Well if they had any sense of security like when we were a team, they should be able to handle themselves," Arminius said, "But I'm more worried about what it would do to this Empire. The Emperor has been assassinated; so do you think that maybe the Thalmor are in the midst of another conspiracy?"
"Possibly," Jenassa replied, sitting next to him on the couch.
"Do you think that maybe the Thalmor are the ones that killed Mede?" Arminius turned to her, his side resting on the couch.
"Unlikely; Mede was a tool of the Aldmeri Dominion's instilment of power and influence across Tamriel, I fail to see why they would want him eliminated," Jenassa said, mimicking his posture.
"Well that's what a conspiracy is," Arminius said, "They don't really make much sense until you dig deeper into the plot. From what I know, the Penitus Ocalatus have been investigating the murder, and they haven't released any information to the general public; either they have found nothing to inform us about, or they have found something that they don't want us to know."
Jenassa held a light smile on her face, and began stroking at his chin, fiddling with the little hairs.
"In times like this, we have to be able to watch out for our own interests, and be able to defend ourselves," she said, then laying her head down on his chest.
"Perhaps you're right," he replied, calmly. "I really should just let this all go."
Riften: the city of thievery. It's also home to some very lively folk when it turns to night time. The Bee and Barb, the city's inn, is alive with light, music, dancing, drink, and laughter. Supposedly, it was all just an escape from the real world problems that Riften was facing; the Black-Briars coming into power, the failing businesses, and of course the Thieves guild themselves.
It was Mjoll the Lioness' duty to see that its citizens remained safe from harm; she felt as it was her duty the moment she saw it. But just for tonight, she would let that all go. She would be enjoying the fun of a drink and song, something that comes around only once in a while for her. Like usual, she was with Aerin, who was holding back with the alcohol. Mjoll was sitting in the chair across from him, her face turned so that she could watch the group of drunken men dance around in the middle to the music that the band of bards were playing from the corner of the room. Along with that, a group of other men were clapping their hands to the beat of the music.
"If the Dragon Crisis taught me anything, it's that life is short," Mjoll said, her thick Nord accent reaching Aerin's ears over the sound of the music. "It's fun to enjoy a good drink and song every now and then."
Just out the corner of her eyes, she saw three tall figures enter the room. One of them had black robes on, and the other two had golden colored armor. When she turned to see them fully, she noticed who they were exactly.
"Aerin," she said in almost a whisper. "It's the Thalmor." Aerin looked over, and then quickly shot back with a face of panic. "Keep low and don't draw any attention."
The three Thalmor agents pushed past the small crowd of Nords, breaking up their little song and dance; several of the Nords started complaining and a couple even silently spit some insults at them. The three approached the Argonian inn keeper.
"You, Argonian!" the wizard yelled. He held up a yellow roll of paper, "have you seen this woman? She is a Nord and a fugitive of Thalmor."
A Nord woman they were looking for? Figures. Suddenly, to Mjoll's surprise, the Argonian pointed in their general direction, with the Thalmor agents following it.
The Thalmor were after her? Why? They were beginning to approach her table. She needed to act quickly and escape.
"Aerin, go, get out of here," she whispered, "I'll meet you at the house." Aerin was reluctant at first, but eventually he jumped up and backed away. She stepped up to make herself known.
"That's right!" she yelled out to them, "I am right here, you Thalmor scum!" The Thalmor agents stopped in their tracks, right in the middle of the dancing group, who are now paying attention to the scuffle.
"But would my Nord brothers and sisters leave a fellow comrade without coming to her aid?" She stated, imploring the big, gruff, muscular Nords around them. Of course it appealed to their sense of honor, and of course they would step in. The room stood in silence for a second; the agents were focused on Mjoll but heard the cracking of knuckles around them, and the grunts and growls that could belong to prisoners.
"Hey pointy ears!" came a loud voice from behind them. The wizard quickly turned around and saw a chair being swung at him until it hit him across the face and breaking it. The other two went to draw their swords, but the other angry Nords roared and jumped in to tackle them. Eventually it turned into an all-out fist fight, every Nord in the room vs. the three Thalmor agents. The bard band even started to play a piece of fight music that they were required to play every time a bar fight broke out.
Mjoll chuckled, and made her way out of the inn. She ran into her and Aerin's house, and began gathering some things.
"Mjoll, what's going on?" asked Aerin. Mjoll was frantically grabbing food and supplies that she needed and throwing it into a sack.
"Aerin," she said. "The Thalmor are after me, and I need to disappear for a while; possibly find some help."
"Let me come with you!" he said. Mjoll stopped for a second and turned to him.
"No, Aerin, I can't let you do that," she replied.
"But Mjoll, I…" he stuttered before being cut off.
"Aerin, please…I can't get you caught in all of this," Mjoll stated, her voice growing softer. Aerin sighed, looking down to the ground. Mjoll put her hand on his shoulder, Aerin looking back up at her in sorrow. "When you saved me that one day, I owed you my life. Hopefully now, keeping the Thalmor away from you would keep you safe, so that one day you could live to see me again. For me having to leave so all of a sudden, I wish it wasn't necessary; but if it's to keep you safe, then I'd have to."
"I understand, Mjoll," Aerin said softly.
"You have showed me nothing but hospitality, and I am grateful for having you in my life. I know that one day I will return home to you, and we can live our dream as adventurers. But…its goodbye for now, Aerin, it's for the best…" They engaged in a long hug, Aerin stuffing his nose into the nape of her neck.
"I'll miss you, Mjoll," he slurred onto her neck skin.
"As I will you, Aerin," she replied, pulling out of the hug then throwing the sack over her shoulder. "I'll return, I promise." Was the last thing she said before bolting out the door.
If you want to capture the full atmosphere of the fight scene between the partying Nords and the Thalmor agents at the Inn, then I'd suggest you look up some Irish tavern music or some river dance and for some reason that music depicts a bar fight real well. R&R.