Hey look! A new chapter! Also, the longest chapter I've written for this so far (although, chapter six seems to be shaping up to be a big one).

Chapter 4: Must Have Been the Wind

"...tshitshitshitshitshitshitshit!" A blue and white blur rushed past me. "J'zargo! Run!"

Being a smart khajiit, I had been ready to run ever since the sounds of explosions and the screams of the damned had begun to drift down from the cliff above me. I quickly caught up to the mad-dashing Archmage; she may have been fast for an argonian, but she was no match for a khajiit, even at a full sprint. "You were not very welcome at the party, yes?"

"Shut… up!" she panted out. "Didn't… expect… them… to try… to kill… me!"

I sighed lightly, although it was hard to distinguish from my normal breathing. "Did you at least get rum or skooma?"

She grabbed my arm and pulled me behind a rock. "No, I didn't-" she pauses for a deep breath and composes herself "-No, I didn't get any damn skooma, you addicted khajiit. Now shut up, I'm going to try to make us invisible."

Slowly, we faded out of view and the snow around us smoothed out into seemingly-natural snowfall. The trio of Thalmor rushed to where the trail ended and began to mill about.

"Huh. Nothing here," one observed.

"Must have been the wind," the second guesses.

"The wind? Really?" Guard 1 replies. "The wind doesn't look like a naked female argonian, nor would it have set half of the Embassy on fire, blown up the other half, killed three of our men by slitting their throats, killed seventeen more in the initial explosion, bested half of the remaining guard detail in single combat, and stolen Ambassador Elenwen's underwear directly off her body!"

"But it could have-" Guard 2 attempts to defend himself before their leader cuts him off.

"Both of you, shut up. She got away, and for that stupid display, the two of you will be reporting to Ambassador Elenwen exactly why our squad failed this mission."

The two guards looked at each other for a moment.

"...Shit."

"This is your fault for bringing up the wind," muttered Guard 1. "Again."

"If you two keep talking, I will have you sand the wood to rebuild the destroyed portions of the Embassy using only your groin and a rusty razor blade. Am I understood?"

The two males gulped. "Yes ma'am."

"Good. Now let's get back to the embassy. We have a report to file."

The trio of guards walked back to the embassy in shame, but heads held high. As if they were convicted criminals headed to the executioner's block but still trying to keep a brave face on.

Actually, that probably wasn't far off.

"So… you did not get any skooma, but perhaps you acquired some rum?"

She sighed and pulled out a small bottle. "No. I said I didn't get you any skooma. I also don't have rum, but for some reason, I found a bottle of this in the kitchen." She handed me the bottle carefully. "Just… Just don't kill yourself with it, okay? You're one of my best Associates."

My eyes widened as I realised that I was holding a bottle of what was probably the largest concentration of Balmora Blue in Skyrim at the time. I carefully stashed it away in my satchel before continuing. "Also, something they said confused J'zargo."

"Yes?"

"The Archmage ran around the Embassy naked? And still had time to get dressed while pursued by angry Thalmor?"

She shifted uncomfortably. "Well, not exactly. You know that I am probably the only one at the College who is more knowledgeable about Illusion spells than Drevis, right?"

"Yes, khajiit was aware of this."

She reached into her cleavage and pulls out her robes of office. The very same ones that I thought she was wearing already. "I'm very good at Illusion spells. Also, I found out that Tolfdir's damn spell apparently helps keep me warm."

"Is J'zargo understanding correctly, then, that the Archmage is doing everything to stop this transformation except stop using the spell causing it?"

She had the grace to look slightly bashful before attempting to defend herself. "It's really a very good spell. I did some research, and it can protect even better than this ebony armor!" Her arm dove between her breasts again, disappearing well past the elbow, and withdrew a full set of ebony plate mail on the return journey.

I held up a hand. "J'zargo must stop you and inquire: how are you doing that?"

She looked confused by the question. "Doing what?" she asked, ebony mail in hand.

"Holding items between your breasts that cannot fit. It made sense when it was only small things, like the key and map, or even the bottle, but a full set of armour? This is absurd."

"Ah!" Her countenance brightened. "Why didn't you say so? Well the answer, of course, is…"

"..."

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"...Magic!"

I groaned at the response. "Yes, but how do you do it?"

"How do you fit all of your things into that satchel? I know that you keep at least one stave the length of your body in there."

"Well, that is simple. I…" I paused for a moment, before coming to a shocking conclusion. "I do not know."

"Well there you go! I do it the same way. Now, Tolfdir's trying to figure it out, Paarthurnax won't help, the Thalmor are still trying to kill me, even after all these years, so there's only one place left to go!"

I dared to voice my hopes. "Back to the College and warm beds, no?"

She laughed a little. "Of course not! We're going to Karthspire in the southern Reach to talk to my last contact! Although," she practically purred, her gaze rapidly turning sultry, "if it's a warm bed you're looking for, I'm sure I can help. If you can please even a centuries-old altmer like Mirabelle enough for her to actually brag about it…" She trailed off in a throaty moan, eyes rolling back in their sockets.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat in the snow next to her.

She looked at my expression and laughed. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I wouldn't say no to a nice, sexy man, but I'm much happier with a woman between my legs rather than wrapped around a man." She stands abruptly and offers me a hand. "Come on, now! This journey won't walk itself!"