Mourin grunted as she was roughly bent on the table, her hazy vision can make out a man who's standing before her.

"Ahh, the sibling. Wasnt expecting you to be so...feminine." A huge brawny man was pinning her down. The finely armored fellow, hair neatly combed back to his shoulders and a mustache that compliments well with his egotism. His eyes fixated on the woman. "And i suppose you too weren't expecting dear brother to turn on you. Oh, it didnt take long for him to give you up after i flashed him a generous amount of gold." He traces the edge of the wooden table, as he walks around next to her. She ignores every word he said, but the painful fact pierces through her, that Michal would trade family for something as shallow as gold. She understood the crucial decision for him to make under pressure and fear. Still, she felt betrayed and right now, the only thing that relieves her is the thought of Lucy finally safe from all of this, despite this man's inane efforts of taunting in front of her face . If she weren't in this predicament she'd clobber his pretty face to oblivion.

"You did give us a lot of trouble, didnt you. Killing a couple of our boys, and getting away right under our noses. The boys want your head on a pike for it." She could smell what it seemed like female perfume as the man leaned in closer to her. " I on the other hand, am very impressed. So impressed, in fact that i had to literally suck Hargar's dirty cock just to get you here in one piece."

"What the fuck do you want?" She basically spat on the man, who only laughed at her.

" Why, to make an offer of course! I've heard about your skills and escapades and we need someone with that package. See, the Marauders deserve better than, whatever command they're under now." he plays with her hair causing her to inwardly growl at the man.

"Let me guess, you want whoever's leading this group be kicked out, and replaced by you." she said.

"Smart one, are you. Yes except that, i had other things in mind than simply removing them from leadership." He walks to the other side of the table, bending down to face her closer.

"I want you to eliminate the two heads of this organization. They're siblings, twins in fact, filthy argonians. Do this, and i'll give you a permanent position in the Marauders ranks." Mourin thought these bunch were just a couple of lawless bandits, but none the better from the crimes they have committed. Given a choice to survive this ordeal, her pride would not let her consider the offer from people who've made their lives miserable for years.

"I dont think so." The man shook his head in disappointment, his arms crossed.

"Too bad. Although,"The man gestured one of his boys who was standing guard. He sheathed out a knife and jerked the woman's arm, her hand flat on the table. " We want you to see the light of this offer. I assure you, you will be benifited for your service. Else, " Mourin panics, her eyes were on the knife pointed towards her left pinky finger. The man holding, was grinning at her.

"You dont want to lose that beautiful finger, dont you." The man teases her, the more Mourin wanted to bash his smug face. She could just say yes and live the rest of her life without a finger missing, or be worst than her brother, and betray herself. She quickly thought of an escape out of this situation, only her thoughts to be interjected by an extremely unbearable pain coming from her left hand. She screamed in agony, her severed finger slumped on the table.

"I dont have all day, sweetheart. Just answer a yes or a no and we'll be done with it." The man impatiently waits for the other woman to come to her senses. She looks up at him, her eyes watery from the pain, "Oblivion take you."

The man rolls his eyes "Ah, what a waste. Here i thought you're smarter than i thought you were. We could've been best of friends, the two of us. Oh well, we'll find someone else capable of this work. Boys?" He gestures them, turning her around and the knife to her neck.

A loud thundering sound came from the skies, for a moment they could feel the earth shake.

"What in hells?" The door swung open by a bandit.

"Daeghun! We gotta get out of here! Bloody dragon's attacking the fort!"

" What!?" The flamboyant man who's known as Daeghun, snapped at the messenger. "For the love of... you two." He points at men holding Mourin. "Finish her quick, and we'll be off."

A part of the roof fell down on them when a dragon scorched fire to the building, crushing one of the bandits. Mourin scurried under the table, when another blow from the dragon completely destroyed the wooden building. Finding a small opening away from the inferno, she sprinted away, her right hand clutching her bleeding finger. She could see the destruction around her surrounded by fire and embers, the bandits trying to defend everything they have. While jumping through rubble and dodging objects that flew in the air, she caught a familiar sight from the middle of the field. His white bandage across his nose now dirtied, he glared down at her with much disappointment.

"You still live!?" He boomed, getting closer to her, clenching his dual axes on both his gigantic hands. Mourin look around, catching a sight of a steel sword, and slid over to grab it. Although physically she was in no shape to fight this brute, he's the only thing that's holding her from the exit gate. And of course, it would be satisfying for her to fullfill her sweet revenge after what has transpired. She stanced, the bald brute growled at her. A booming cry came from him, his axe swung towards his smaller opponent, her finesse avoided the blow. Another swung and she rolled away from him. He swung sideways, only for his opponent to duck and slice his abdomen. He shrieked at the pain.

"How's that feel, huh?" She taunted, taking back a part of her revenge. He roared, charging towards her, his axes over his head ready to unleash a mighty blow. She rolled away, wincing as she could feel her stitches tearing, she inwardly cursed. Her opponent, once again charged, this time his eyes almost popped out of his head in rage. She dodged on her left, then under. The discomfort in her abdomen distracted her, only to get hit by the pommel of his axe, stunning her down to the ground. With blood running down from her forehead, she could make out the man ready to strike her,. She could hear a screeching roar from the distance, and followed by a shadow from the sky that grabbed the brute into the air, and dropping him meters above the ground. She took another look upclose when the dragon swooped another bandit just a few feet away from her. She was lost and still dazed from her opponent's blow.

"The Blades are here!" One of the bandits screamed before an arrow landed behind his neck. Mourin stood up confused, standing absentmindedly in the middle of chaos, when a heavy armored hand grabbed her arm.

"Get the hell out of there!" The armored stranger pulled her away, both ran away from the danger zone. They took shelter inside a stone fort for refuge.

"Stay here." The heavy armored fellow said. Mourin was familiar of its design, from the books and illustrations she read as a child. She would pretend to be one of the famous Blades, fighting side by side with the Dragonborn back when they were rising to the peak of their glory. She never saw one in person for years, until now. The fellow left her alone, but Mourin had better things to do than hide. No, right now, it was her chance to let every marauder pay for everything that they did to her and her family, not caring about the dragon attacking the whole fort. But her throbbing injuries wouldn't let her stand up steadily. Not long the Blades member returned, with a pots, flasks and a bag of herbs. He removed his helmet, putting it aside and started mixing ingredients. He looked young, freshly experienced with scars and scrapes on his face. His hair was dirty blonde dangling on his face. His lower face covered in stubble, overall he has nordic features. The man noticed her staring at him, as if unsure of his intentions.

"You look like you've seen better days." He sparked up a conversation to avoid the unnecessary hostility.

"I'm getting that a lot." She replied, her eyes cautious of the stranger.

"I'm guessing you're not with these bandits." he asked while grinding ingredients into a potion.

"Not that I would want to." His eyes glanced at her for a moment, then continued with his work.

"Here," he reached out a potion, with a particularly unappetizing scent coming out of it, "It'll heal some of your injuries, at least of the meantime."

She reluctantly took the potion and gulped it down, trying her best to not throw it up. A loud high pitch screeching echoed into the air, a thud strong enough to shake the earth beneath them.

"It's down! The beast is down!" One of the soldiers outside ran to the tower. "Erik, we got him! Haha! We got the son of a bitch down!" He exclaimed a little too excited.

"We got ourselves a dragon for dinner tonight, boys!" Another popped in the door, with much eagerness as her other companion. "Come on Erik, you gotta see this."

Soldiers tied ropes over the beast, strong enough to contain it. Its maw tied, wings and tail pinned to the ground like a butterfly. Mourin was agape by the sight. A majestic creature, crimson like freshly spilled blood, struggling violently without success. All her life she had never seen something so beautiful yet so terrifying. She just stood there, at a loss of words.

"A beauty isnt she?" Erik, the man that helped her, stood next to the nord woman, arms crossed. "I had the same look the first time i saw my first dragon."

"How can something so beautiful can be so destructive?" She mumbled, still gaped at the sight.

"Hmm, aside from the whole world eating thing, dragons arent always so destructive. Just recently." Mourin looked at him. "Ever since the Dragonborn died, nobody could stop this dragon infestation, as the grandmaster would call it. They just kept coming back to life, and more kept rising from their graves."

"So you just, pin them down, that is, until a new dragonborn comes waltzing right in." The man's brow furrowed.

"Eh, no. We're hopeful, but it's not possible, he was the last of the dragon blood lineage." The dragon let out a muffled roar, the men who seem to be not taking it seriously, cheered. "The Blades has some theories about it, but nothing solid yet. For now they stand together with the empire, working out a way to keep the province safe. But we all know without the dragonborn, there wont be a chance to survive all of this."

"Hey! Hey! Lookie here!" One of the men, who looks as if he's been drinking in the middle of the day, caught the attention of the crowd. He stood a close distance next to the dragon's tacked head "What's more frightening than a lose dragon, freely hovering above the sky?" He said, leaning his elbow on the dragon's head, expecting an answer from his audience.

"I know, the fat troll you call a wife!" yelled one of the audience. Laughter commenced.

"No! No! This here is ten times more frightening!" the audience laughter subsides.

"Nobody? Well, I tell you now." he clears his throat." Nobody's harsher and more terrorizing than the grandmaster herself! Why? Because she spits shit from her mouth more than any dragon, she thinks she's higher than others despite that she's five foot one, and her snores are ground trembling that everyone thought the world eater himself's attacking Karthspire in the middle of the night!" The crowd's laughter filled the atmosphere. Erik was laughing his guts out, glancing next to his companion who didn't get the jest.

"Maybe we should let this dragon free and tie the grandmaster instead!" Another wave of laughter roared.

"It's not safe to let her roam free of Tamriel." he continued." Her huuuuuuge mouth might devour the whole Nirn!" The laughter stopped and there was silence.

"Oh and dont get me started on that huuuuuge feet of hers, she could squish a full grown bear with those badboys, eh?" The response was quiet, their eyes read of terror, looking behind him.

The grandmaster, who arrived late at the scene with reinforcments, was glaring at the poor fool, his grin turned into a frightened look. Everyone fell to silence.

"I just got delayed a few minutes , and you idiots fool around in the middle of a crucial mission?! " He smacked the man on the head , straightening him out.

"What, You think this is a laughing matter? We are at a war with eternal damnation itself, and you still have the guts to jest while people are dying out there!?" Indeed the grandmaster was frightening, a breton, as Mourin could guess, by her youthful features, despite her showing age and her height that's twice a head shorter than hers. She's militaristic, with a sense of casual discipline, but obvious to the men's current reaction to their superior's presence, she expects the best of her people, albeit in an extreme way.

"You fools, are the reason why the world eater wants to devour Nirn! You know what, we'll be doing the next world a favor if it means avoiding halfwits like you lot to breed." The soldiers showed their disciplined side when the grandmaster was around. These soldiers pledged their very lives for their order, to protect and to serve the people of skyrim amidst the dragon chaos. But shed all the steel to reveal none but simple men and women, afraid and mortal, unbeknownst of what lies ahead of their fate.

The grandmaster caught a distinctive sight among her men. Mourin prepared for what comes for her, after witnessing the woman's fury.

"And who is this? Why isn't this bandit a corpse on the ground?" Erik scurried in front of his superior.

"She's not one of them, Ma'am." His tone, regarding. " I was carrying out orders when i caught sight of her, disoriented. I saved her from the attack."

Mourin wouldnt consider it to that extent. In fact the dragon saved her from being hacked to death, and she was half aware of what's happening, w/c is better than not at all. Anyhow, she remained silent.

The grandmaster looked at the man, her brow made a crease. "Is that so?" She eyed the nord woman from head to toe, making the other slightly nervous. The grandmaster studied her face, carefully, her expression, now startled by a sudden revelation. As if she had just found a key to a hidden secret and both Mourin and Erik were puzzled by the grandmasters sudden silence.

"Grandmaster?" Erik cuts off her trance.

"Bring her to Sky Haven and don't let her get away." her eyes, still fixed on the nord.

"Ma'am?" she turned her eyes to the confused lad.

"Now, apprentice. There'll be no questioning of orders." she signals the rest of the men to pack it up, leaving a number of the others to guard the bound beast.

Mourin knew this has something to do with her father and these people that he was involved with. She knew he was a Blade, among other renowned organizations that he stands highly in. Although he only once met him, anybody who's anybody knew his astoundinng accomplishments.

A knock on the door disturbed the small family dinner of three. A man, donned in noble armor, hair chesnut blonde, beard neatly trimmed, an overall appearance of a gallant knight. He approaches her at the fireplace. He looks down at her, smiling, kneeling down he gently touches her shoulder.

"Hello there, Mourin." The girl was surprised that the knight knew her name. She stared at his silvery blue eyes, narrow set, strong and fierce, much like her own. Mourin was in awe of the knight, she one day dreams of becoming very much like him. Her mother interrupts them, she was slightly hostile of him. As words exchanged between them, her mother's words grew more angry. She was yelling at him, but the knight remained calm. Mourin was cluching her younger brother, who was afraid, his face buried into the fabric of her clothes, his soft cries muffled. The knight took one last stare at Mourin, their eyes meeting for the last time, as he walks away to the door. Her mother, frail and sickly, her hands leaning on the dining table as exhaustion caught her illness.


The cold and icy roads changes into abundant grasslands, their path now bound from Eastmarch to The Reach. Mourin is surrounded by four Blades, much to her slight discomfort and it didn't help that every once in a while the grandmaster would look at her direction, making sure of her security with a glare in her eyes w/c Mourin found a bit eerie. Erik would more than willing to make her company, w/c did not help subside her unwillingness to come with them. He means well but the lad wouldnt shut up. He shared stories, and of how he was inducted to the blades.

"I was just a simple farmboy, looking to see more of the world, you know." He said, while he escorts his companion. "Then one day, a group of men came into our inn, their armors were anything i have ever seen, their swords as long as a full grown woodelf." Mourin slightly snickered at the use of comparison. "That time, the blades were looking for able bodied people to join their ranks, and i, being the eager beaver that i am, did not hesitate to join. Of course, father did not approve. Good thing one of the men had convinced him, finally earning my place. Took me a while to realize the man my father talked to was the Dragonborn himself. I was squeeing rabidly like a schoolgirl, uhm, internally of course." A cool chill of night air swooped through the pine trees. It has been a while since she set foot outside The Rift. The air was much more humid compared, the smell of pines mingle with the breeze. She forgot how she used to love it here.

"How well did you know him, the Dragonborn." Her eyes steady on the bright silver moon, her companion followed her eyes. "I see him in a couple occasions." he said.

"Whenever he comes to visit the men in the training grounds, he would observe us quietly." he adjusted his torch away from them, as bright embers started to fall." But i never met him personally. And those who did greatly honors the opportunity. I was very envious. Lucky bastards." The clanking of steel was the only perceptible thing in the quiet roads, a sound that would make a warning for the lurking wolves and occasional bandits that hide in the shadows, waiting for a helpless traveler to prey on. The western watchtower provides as a landmark as they reach closer to the Whiterun hold.