The cloth wrapped around my head barely muffled the roar of the wind. I gritted my teeth and kept fighting my way through, despite not being able to see ten feet through the billowing ash. Storms like this were yet another of the charming aspects of Vvardenfell I'd discovered since my arrival.

I finally reached the sheltered entrance of the Ald Skar Inn, wrenched open the front door, and stepped inside. The wind banged the door shut again behind me and I stood on the threshold for a moment, brushing the thick layer of ash off of my clothing. With that finished, I pulled off my goggles and unwrapped the scarf from around my head, shaking ash from the latter as well. Once it was clear the island's ash storms presented an issue, I invested in some protective gear. Not only were they powerful, but I also heard stories of the strange diseases carried with them, ones that were resistant to most potions and restorative spells. That was not something I especially wanted to risk.

After the dusty goggles were off, I finally got a look at my surroundings. Paper lanterns hung from the inn's vaulted ceiling and dark purple-red plants grew in planters along the walls. The bar itself was located on an open upper level surrounded by railings. Climbing the stairs that led up to it, I saw a few other patrons sitting at the tables there and chatting with one another. Set into an alcove on the back wall was a long shelf of various liquor bottles. The Dunmer tending the bar was busy cleaning a glass as I approached.

"How can I help you?" she asked, not even glancing in my direction.

"I need a room for the night," I told her.

"Ten drakes."

She finally looked up when I placed the coins on the bartop. After quickly counting them, she stored the gold somewhere below the counter, replacing them with a small wooden tag burned with a Daedric letter.

"Occupied rooms have these hanging by the door," she explained. "When you pick out a vacant one, put this up outside."

I picked up the tag and thoughtfully turned it between my fingers. Then I said, "I also wonder if you know where I might find some work here. Long-term, preferably."

The womer eyed me critically. Her crimson gaze passed from the longword strapped to my back to the plain leather armor I wore. I was told it was made from the hide of netches: the strange, floating, tentacled creatures I occasionally saw while on the road.

"The Fighters' Guild is the obvious choice," she told me. "They often have work for outlanders and will probably be more than willing to take you on."

I frowned, but stayed silent. There was a reason I hadn't joined on with Cyrodiil's branch of the Fighters' Guild once I was out of the Legion. The one time I tried, my mind had blanked the moment I walked in the door. Besides, they seemed like little more than a band of glorified mercenaries. Despite everything else, I'd still taken some pride in the duels I fought in the Arena. It was founded by Gaiden Shinji, a place where warriors could prove their mettle.

She seemed to sense my hesitation, because she then added slowly, "If you're bolder, you could try the Redoran Council Hall."

"Meaning the Great House Redoran?"

"The very same. They might have some use for another sword arm, if you're lucky."

I tapped the tag lightly against the counter as I mulled it over. I was, as she pointed out, an outlander. Plenty of Vvardenfell's residents were quick enough to show disdain for that alone. I didn't expect joining one of the ruling Houses would be easy, not even as a mere hireling. In my experience, however, easy rarely meant the same thing as good. Cosades said I should obtain a cover. If they would have me, what would be better than working in the employ of one of the seats of Vvardenfell's power?

"Where do I find this council hall?" I asked once I'd made up my mind.

"In the Manor District, which is under the Skar."

"Skar?"

"Skar is the shell of the ancient Emperor Crab, outlander," she explained with a sigh, obviously impatient at my question. "It's nearly impossible to miss. The Redoran Council, the Noble Manors, and the fine merchants are all inside. As such, they are all 'under Skar.'"

"I understand. Thank you."

I stayed in the inn until the ash storm passed. Once the wind died, I ventured out onto Ald'ruhn's streets. Without the clouds of billowing ash, I could finally take in my surroundings as I walked. The buildings were largely undecorated and the simple, curved outlines of their shell exteriors matched the dusty hills that surrounded them. Already, the locals were outside, shoveling or sweeping the ash away from their doorsteps.

It was at the northern end of the city that I found what I was looking for. The "Skar" was massive, the dome of the shell stretching hundreds of feet across. Its exterior surface was rough and pale brown. A set of stone stairs led up to the large double doors set into the side of the shell. On either side of the steps were rows of brightly-colored banners, each of them displaying the black outline of a stylized beetle. I climbed the steps, pulled open the door, and stepped inside.

The interior was a massive chamber carved out of the giant shell. The whole space was lit by lanterns, which lent it a somber feeling. Wooden walkways led from the entrance to the many doorways set into the walls. Stepping out onto the circular platform at the center of the chamber, I stopped and glanced around, wondering which of them led to the Council Hall the innkeeper spoke of.

"Here to cause trouble, outlander?" a voice growled from behind me.

Turning, I saw a House Redoran guard standing behind me. Like the other Dunmeri guards I'd seen in Ald'ruhn, and in Balmora, he was outfitted in a full set of that strange, yellowish armor. Bonemold, I'd heard it called. His face was completely covered by his helm, save for the long, horizontal opening for the eyes. I noted that his hand was carefully poised to reach for the steel-headed mace he carried.

"Of course not," I said quietly. A fight was the last thing I wanted, especially one with a guard.

He took a step forward to tower over me and said, "It seems you're skulking around."

"That was never my intention."

"Then I would suggest making yourself scarce."

I began to respond, but was cut off by a woman's voice asking, "What's going on here?"

The speaker was a Redguard. Tight, dark curls crowned her head and her sharp gaze passed from the guard to me and back again. When she crossed her arms, clearly waiting for an answer, the silver-blue layers of her dress rustled.

"I found this Bosmer loitering and believe her to have dishonorable intentions."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Do you now?"

"She could be a spy for one of the other Houses, or perhaps even for the Empire," he insisted.

She briefly looked me over and scoffed, "She doesn't look like much of a spy to me."

I kept my expression carefully blank.

"Did you ask for the reason as to why she's here?"

"Not yet," he ground out.

"All right, then, I'll ask for you." Turning her full attention to me, she asked, "So, what is your purpose for being in the Manor District?"

Lifting my chin, I told her, "I'm looking for the Redoran Council Hall."

She seemed a little surprised by that answer. "Are you looking to join House Redoran?" At my nod of confirmation, she gave me a wry smile and said, "It looks like the right person found you, then. I am Neminda, Drillmaster and Recruiter for House Redoran. The councilors have entrusted me with the responsibility of examining those who wish to serve our House."

"I've got better things to do, so let's move this along," the guard cut in rather bluntly.

"Yes, let's." Gesturing to me, Neminda said, "Come. We can discuss the matter in the Council Hall."

She led me across several more walkways until we reached a trio of doorways set in a carved half-circle along the chamber wall. Banners displaying the same beetle design as those outside hung on either side of the doors. Neminda entered first, stepping over the threshold, and I followed close behind.

On the other side was a large circular room lit by flickering candlelight. At the center was a massive planter filled with a variety of strange ferns and a relatively small tree. The cross vaulted ceiling overhead displayed a continuous pattern of tiles. Two hallways snaked off the main room, leading to I knew not where.

Neminda walked to the desk on the far side of the chamber and sat down behind it. Once she was settled she said, "First of all…"

"Talise."

"Talise. Thank you. I wish to know what it is that makes you believe you're qualified for consideration."

I clasped my hands behind my back and told her, "I was trained by and served in the Imperial Legion for twenty years."

Something about that made the corner of her mouth turn up in the barest of smiles.

"Then you have proficiency in the art of combat?"

"I believe I do, yes."

"Good. It is the duty of House Redoran to preserve the ways of the warrior, so martial proficiency is required for all those within our ranks." Pressing her fingertips together and leaning toward me, she said, "I am willing to offer you a position as a hireling to our House. However, to see if what you say is indeed true, I am sending you on an errand. A test, if you will. Sera Drulene Falen has asked for our help. She says she's having trouble with bandits."

At my questioning look, Neminda shrugged lightly and continued, "It happens, especially further from the law. Usually the bandits are outcast Ashlanders. Go talk to her. She might be able to tell you where they are. Deal with them, and we can continue this discussion."

"Where will I find this Sera Falen?" I asked as I got to my feet.

"Leave west out of Ald'ruhn and take the road toward Gnisis. When you go into the hills, take the left fork to the southwest. Take the right path at the next fork and you should see her guar straight ahead."

I nodded and left the Council Hall.

From Ald'ruhn, I followed Neminda's directions and headed west. Drulene Falen's farm lay nestled between the rocky hills, surrounded by towering boulders and warped trees with branches like grasping fingers. The only building was a hut, made in the same shell-like style to those I'd seen in other Redoran settlements. A herd of squat reptilian creatures I could only assume were guar roamed the area. Tending to the farm's small garden was a Dunmer. Her red hair was bound up with a green scarf. She looked around at my approach.

"Did Neminda send you?" she asked. Her red eyes narrowed in suspicion as she looked me over.

"Yes. She said you are having trouble with bandits in the area."

Drulene sighed, her shoulders drooping. "They've been after my guar, and those of a few other herders nearby. If this keeps up, I might have to sell what I've still got and move back to Tear."

"I'll find them, don't worry," I reassured her. "What can you tell me about them?"

"There's two of them, as far as I've seen." She pointed off into the distance as she continued, "They came up from the south last time, and they led off one of my best guar that way. There might be a cave or a tomb somewhere nearby that they're hiding out in."

I left the farm and headed off into the hills in the direction she indicated. For a long time, I found no trace of anywhere that would serve as a suitable hiding place for a gang of bandits. Then I saw several guar tied up in a depression between two hills. I climbed down to get a better look, careful not to make any sudden moves lest I startle them and alert the bandits. The creatures barely seemed to notice me. Instead, they continued making strange growling, purring sounds. Once I reached the bottom of the hill, I saw a doorway set into its rocky face. It was the perfect hiding spot. From above, it was nearly impossible to spot. Drawing my sword, I pushed open the weather-worn door and stepped inside.

The rooms within were so dark I could barely see at first. The lit torches barely provided enough light to walk, and I had to feel my way down the stairs. After passing through a small, dark chamber that appeared to serve as a chapel, I stepped into a longer, more brightly lit hallway. Its stone walls were unadorned. Altars on either side held ceramic urns I could only assume were filled with the ashes of the dead interred there. Save for the torches, the tomb seemed abandoned, and I briefly wondered if the bandits were gone at the moment. Then I heard voices coming from behind the door ahead. With careful steps, I walked forward and pushed it open.

It led to one final chamber, which was bigger than all of the previous halls. The raised platform at the far end appeared to be the bandits' living space, with bedrolls and various discarded items scattered about. Two figures stood in the middle of the room, arguing with each other. One was a Bosmer, the other a Breton. Both had their blond hair pulled back into ponytails and the latter gripped a rusty axe. I slowly lifted my arm, reaching for my blade. Despite my efforts to stay quiet, the mer looked in my direction just then.

"Hey!" he shouted, pointing at me. The Breton turned his head around to stare at me as well. He hefted his axe. So much for the element of surprise. I drew my sword.

He charged with a yell and swung his axe at me. The man was clearly not a fighter; his movements were sloppy and the attack left him far too open. I sidestepped and his momentum carried him past me. Before he could turn back again, I slashed at the back of his unprotected knees. He crumpled. The head of his axe clattered against the floor. I spun my sword and jammed the blade down through his back. He let out a harsh, choking gasp.

I looked back over my shoulder then as his companion, dagger drawn, made to stab me in the back. My hand shot out and released a pulse of violet-colored electricity that hit the mer squarely in the chest. He flew backwards and hit the ground hard, skidding a few feet across the stone before lying still. He didn't get up again.

I wrenched the sword out of the dead Breton's back and surveyed my handiwork. It was time to tell Drulene Falen the good news.

When I returned to the Redoran Council Hall, Neminda stood behind her desk. She leaned across it, hands splayed flat and brows furrowed, as she spoke in a hurried undertone to the Dunmer across the desk from her. At the sound of my approaching footsteps, the woman looked up and let out what sounded like a sigh of relief.

"Thank the gods someone's here," she said. "What happened to Drulene's bandits?"

"They've been taken care of."

"Good. I've got another assignment for you. Serjo Athyn Sarethi — one of the Councilors of House Redoran — believes his life is in danger. I've called for reinforcements, but who knows when the guards will arrive?" She shook her head and continued, "I need you to go to Sarethi Manor. Stay there until Councilor Sarethi gives you other orders or until more guards arrive. Arnais will show you the way."

The Drillmaster indicated the mer who she'd been speaking to when I entered.

I looked at him, then back to Neminda. "Understood."

"Good." She sank into her chair and said with just a hint of a wry smile, "You say you know how to fight? Now is your chance to prove it."

I followed the Dunmer, Arnais, out of the Redoran Council Hall once more and across the wooden bridges that spanned the interior chamber of the Skar. He led me to another of the doors set into the wall and gestured to it.

"This is the manor, sera," he told me. I nodded and pulled open the door, leaving him standing outside.

Unlike the Council Hall, Sarethi manor began with a flight of stairs rather than a large open chamber. It did, however, possess the same sort of arched ceiling I'd seen earlier. Patterns of colored tiles decorated the base of the walls. At the bottom was a long hall with a row of thick pillars that ran the length of the room. Dark red rugs covered the floor. Upon one of them were several bodies. Guards in bonemold armor and a mer in plain, dark clothing. The pool of blood beneath them was hardly visible against the woven threads of the carpet.

A mer in crimson robes leaned heavily against one of the pillars. His black hair was done up in several knots and what looked to be a Dwemer-brass sword was in his hand. I noticed that it was bloodied. He watched me through narrowed eyes as I approached him cautiously.

"Serjo Sarethi? Neminda sent me to protect you."

Just like that, his tense posture relaxed a fraction.

"Thank the Tribunal," he said with a sigh. Pointing toward the bodies, he added, "That assassin already took out both of my guards. I fear there will be more of them soon."

Behind me, I heard the faint sound of a weapon being drawn. I turned fast and saw two new mer coming down the stairs. They were dressed similarly to the body of the dead assassin that lay nearby, and both wielded cleaver-like blades. Upon seeing that I had noticed them, the one with heavily-pierced ears pulled another knife from his belt. It was both thinner than the other and smaller. He drew his arm back. I reached for my sword, ready to sidestep the blade he was about to thrown, and—

I blinked.

The assassins were dead. Their bodies lay sprawled out over the floor. I stood over them, breathing hard. My sword dripped with blood. The side of my right ear stung. There was a deep cut there, which stung when I reached up to touch it. I winced. I must not have been fast enough to avoid the dagger the assassin had thrown. Judging by the corpses, I had apparently gotten the better of them in the end. I didn't know what actually happened; the whole fight was nothing more than a blank gap in my memory. I hadn't had a lapse like this in some time, but I supposed it was inevitable sooner or later.

There was the sound of boots on the stairs, and several Redoran guards hurried down into the manor's main hall. When they saw me, their grips tightened on their already-drawn weapons.

"What are you doing in here?" one of them asked.

"At ease," Councilor Sarethi said, walking past me to speak with them. "This Bosmer defended me after the assassins succeeded in killing my guards."

The guard in the lead looked from the Councilor to me, then to the sword in my hands, and finally to the cooling bodies of the assassins lying at my feet.

"Very well," he said in a gruff voice. "We have orders to remain in the manor until it is certain the danger is past."

"Carry on, then."

The guards spread out to stand at the ready, their gazes flicking back to the entry every few moments.

Once they were gone, the Councilor turned to me and asked, "What is your name?"

"Talise, serjo," I told him, remembering the Dunmeri term of address Neminda had used.

"Thank you, sera Talise. I am in your debt. Rest assured that I will do what I can to return the favor." He turned away and clasped his hands behind his back. "Tell Neminda that I am safe. You are dismissed." With that, he walked toward an archway at the end of the hall, the guards following close behind.

I cleaned my blade and sheathed it before leaving the manor. Crossing the wooden bridges again, I returned to the Council Hall. Once I was inside, Neminda rose quickly from behind her desk and hurried to meet me.

"I heard there was an attack. Is Councilor Sarethi safe?" she asked, her voice frantic.

"His guards were dead when I arrived, and more assassins attacked, but yes. He is safe."

"Thank the gods for that. He and my father were close friends and the Sarethi family has had enough trouble recently." Gesturing to one of the benches that circled the central planter, Neminda said, "If you'll wait here, there are things I need to attend to. And you should probably get that ear looked at. I'm certain we have someone on hand who can do so. I'll send them over."

I waited on that bench in the Redoran Council Hall's entrance for a long time. As she'd promised, the Drillmaster had indeed sent a healer to tend to my wounded ear. The gash had closed, but the spot was still tender. The healer told me it would almost certainly leave a scar behind. This was hardly news to me; I'd earned plenty before, both in my time in the Legion and the Arena.

There was the sound of footsteps and the rustle of fabric, and I looked up to see Neminda return. There was a purse in her hands.

"Guard duty pays in drakes, Talise," she said as she held it out to me. "It's not much, but perhaps you can put it to good use."

I took it from her with a murmur of thanks, but I sensed that there was something else.

In a serious tone, she continued, "It has also been decided that, rather than bringing you on as a mere hireling, you are instead to serve as a retainer for the Great House. This will require a more formal induction than it would have otherwise. Provided you are still interested."

"Of course," I replied as I got to my feet.

"Very well. Welcome to the Great House Redoran."