Morbid Pleasures and Macabre Business: Chapter III

"Leg."

"Leg?" Lillandril repeated with a laugh. "Are you absolutely sure? I mean, I know my hands are shaky right now, but that's a bit of an exaggeration on your part. A bit costly, too, wouldn't you say?"

"Sir, I am absolutely sure," his subordinate replied, a hint of smug confidence in his tone of voice.

Lillandril shrugged. Without looking, the Justiciar allowed the quarrel to swiftly fly across the room with a soft thrum. When he finally viewed the manacled prisoner, he was glad to see that a bolt now protruded from the heretic's arm. Well, not just a bolt, of course- Lillandril counted about six, but he couldn't be sure how many were deeply lodged in this human porcupine. Not that it mattered, anyways. A bet was a bet, and Lillandril had just won himself some drinking money for the next town that they raided.

"So, how are your children, Sergeant Vingdrill?" Lillandril asked over the screaming of their hostage. Vingdrill- scowling as he dropped the coin purse into his commanding officer's hand- lightened up at the mention of his youths.

"The oldest is going on about how he is going to be 'just like his Uncle Stormbinder' someday. Farya, I'm told, is becoming quite the little scholar. To hear my wife tell the tale, she has been sneaking out of bed at night to read tomes about magical theories, and one of the servants found a copy of The Monomyth underneath her bed just last week."

Lillandril heartily laughed. "They sound more and more like me and my sister every day. Take care, though, that the third doesn't grow up to be a second Gallandril. The black sheep of the family, that bastard is."

"The first-born too, isn't he, sir?"

"Regrettably. He was groomed for a career in politics his entire childhood. I, however, was kept around the estate like some back-up heir, in case he should meet a tragic- if not merited and justified- end. Maybe that's why I got into as much trouble as your little one is. Playing about in the gardens, pretending to whisk away young maidens to a life of romance, dreaming of the day when I was a proper Justiciar…"

"That's why you're the best damn Talos-hunter, sir." Vingdrill assured.

"As if there was any doubt."

Lillandril was about to reload the crossbow for another round when his squire appeared. The Khajiit had a look of concern on his dark face, his pale green eyes shifting nervously as he approached. In his hands was a letter…with the official stamp of the Third Aldmeri Dominion upon it.

"Khrazz apologizes for the intrusion, but this one has a very important message. 'Urgent' was the word that the courier used."

"Sergeant Vingdrill, you are dismissed. Be sure to tell the little ones that I said hello."

Saluting Lillandril, Sergeant Vingdrill exited the room. Somewhat unfortunate, however, as that meant that he would not be there to hear of the praise that the Aldmeri Dominion had sent his commanding officer. Lillandril could hear it now; Oh, Lillandril, you are our greatest Justiciar! We are nothing without you! Had you not flayed alive every heretic you've come across, Talos would still be part of these filthy humans' pantheon! Please, accept this office back in Alinor that we grant you! Yes...such praise was inevitable.

"If you would, Khrazz, please read the letter aloud," Lillandril said when the two of them were alone- the mortally wounded prisoner excluded. The Altmer could scarcely conceal his thin-lipped smile, stifling a chuckle at the coming adulation.

Tearing the wax seal apart with his claw, Khrazz cleared his throat. The beleaguered Khajiit unfolded the letter and began reading its contents.

"Justiciar Lillandril Stormbinder of Alinor,

In the past, you have proven to be one of our most useful, most effective operatives where state matters where concerned. During the Great War, many a scheme was uncovered and foiled by you, an interrogator at the time. We took care to not ask of how you achieved those results, but nevertheless applauded your success.

Later, we found that giving you your own detachment of loyal soldiers to enforce the White-Gold Concordant was another resounding victory for the Dominion. Under your command, countless heretical sects of Talos-worshipping dissidents were wiped out, innumerable insurgents were detained and tried for their heinous crimes, and it looked as though long-term peace was indeed at hand.

Then, of course, you proved invaluable during the Civil War of Skyrim- as the historians are now calling it. Your…cooperation with officials in Cyrodiil proved contributory to the Imperial victory that we all sought after this long, weary war that left all its participants equally wizened and frail. Reconstruction efforts are already underway in the wake of the fall of this rebellion, and your efforts are immensely appreciated.

With that being said, however, there is a grave manner to discuss. We have reviewed the countless "war crimes" that both sides of the conflict have specifically accused you of (i.e. Unlawful torturing of prisoners of war, the pillaging of several small hamlets on the outskirts of Skyrim, the violent assault and disembowelment of several priests of the Divines, the flaying alive of several aforementioned prisoners of war, the raping of approximately twenty young maidens- undertaken by several of your subordinates, ect.), and we now realize that action must be taken, lest a political incident occur.

Thus, we are temporarily revoking the privileges once given to you under normal circumstances (i.e. unlimited funding, diplomatic impunity, ect.), as well as withdrawing half of the allotted fifty soldiers under your command. Meanwhile, it is decided that we are to also assign you to a different task- with the supposed end of the mass dragon attacks, we would like to take this opportunity to find and detain the Dragonborn (Known as one "Fjolnir Sword-Quill," whose description can be found below).

Your orders, then, are to…"

"That's enough, Khrazz," Lillandril interrupted, the color draining from his face as he heard the Khajiit read aloud this most dreadful betrayal. So that was how it was; thrown to the wolves, left to the mercy of his enemies, robbed of his impunity. He felt naked now. Vulnerable. All eyes were on him, now. Now more than ever, his every action undertaken was susceptible to criticism, and every measure of devotion to the Thalmor cause on his part was sure to be scrutinized. Lillandril was never one to charge into battle without his armor, but now it seemed that he would have to perform his duties as a Justiciar without his paper shield- his aegis meant to ward off sycophants and meddling politicians. And they expected him to capture the Dragonborn? If he should be caught, Lillandril would more than likely face "justice" for his various endeavors.

Then again...

Am I really going to let that stop me, though? Let them send as many people as they want to stop me. I need more leather for my new cloak, after all.

"Khrazz," Lillandril said softly, "where might we find him? Are there any titles that he holds? Land? Houses? Property, even?"

"He is a Thane, my lord."

"Of?"

"Whiterun, Falkreath, Riften, Markarth, Solitude, and-"

"I get the point, Khrazz. What else?" Lillandril interrupted.

"Khrazz apologizes, sir. His dossier also mentions briefly property in most of the holds here in Skyrim, a small home in Raven Rock, and approximately three homesteads about the province."

"Auri-El's incandescent merhood, how in the name of thrice-damned Oblivion are we going to find him?" Lillandril vehemently spat.

"Well, this one believes that we might be able to…" Khrazz trailed off when he saw a certain glint in Lillandril's eye. It was the one that he had learned to fear- that of sudden inspiration, and of daring, bold intentions.

"No…I know what we will do. Send word to General Tulius. And maybe his quaint puppet- pardon, Jarl Elisif- as well. We need not find the Dragonborn."

"If Khrazz may ask, why is that so, sir?"

Lillandril laughed. "Because, my dear fuzzy steward, they are going to help us find him."