The dagger on my left has lightning element emanating from it; the other is of ice. The enchantment is mediocre at best. I've come across far more powerful blades but I suppose I've had quarrels with lesser gifted foes. Perhaps the others' weapons hold some sort of fancy, but those days of me scavenging for the next more efficient weapon has passed. Now I have a reputation that precedes me and sometimes it bodes well for me.

"Fuun! Muuhf uuuhn ufh uumng?! UNNNUFN UF!"

The wood elf proceeds to thrash about her bindings despite the discomfort or perhaps any danger that would come out from struggling too hard. With the look in her eyes she is expecting the worse as I ominously walk towards her holding the two daggers that was once one of her captor's possession. That said captor, the only one left, is now restrained and almost reciprocating the lost of pride since I can hear Sherelle's grunts through her gag. Must be the rope tied tautly between her womanhood. But this wood elf's sacred area is not protected from the texture of the ropes since she has been stripped of her clothing. Regardless, she tugs, she contorts her body to whatever way her bondage would allow her not showing any inhibitions to the sensations that crotch rope is giving her. Perhaps fear is the greater emotion out of this.

"The fight remains in you." I say rather cryptically as I am now standing close to her. Her eyes are still showing fear despite the mild defiance in her struggles and her glaring. "This will be an easier task then."

"Ufh umnn fuffnuh! UUU MMNN FUFFNU! UUU FUN'F UU FHMF!"

Within those garbled words are also screams for her life as the glass dagger stabs downwards. The sound however isn't blade-penetrating flesh, instead it is now stabbed on the table on where this wood elf finds herself unceremoniously displayed. Looking at the dagger that is in the general vicinity of her bound womanhood, she then turns her eyes on me with a perplexed expression.

"Freedom is in your grasp. Keep fighting for it."

What follows after my words are a series of discontented muffled ranting that I didn't bother to give any more attention to. I have turned my back on her the moment I said my piece and from the sound of it all is that the wood elf is now on a restrained rampage on trying to truly let me know how she feels about my decision. No matter. Now I have turned my full attention to the imperial girl who has been a bit more 'peaceful' than her fellow captive.

"Muuhf... uuuhf uuuhn ufh pfnuhnnmng... un uumng fu... mn?"

If I can understand her I'm sure her words would adhere to how pitiful she sounds through her gag. She takes note of Sherelle's last dagger that is also in my hand and I can tell there is fear with what I may do or perhaps the fate I left the wood elf also frightens her. People like her are the pure prey of the hostile environment of Skyrim. I myself have been a victim for a while until I realized my destiny… perhaps… I shake the thoughts off as I stab the dagger close to her womanhood like I did with the wood elf. Of course she flinches and squeals having thought of the worse in this scenario.

"Be still." Of course she does the opposite and shoots her head back as I reach out towards her to remove her gag. Of course in her position, there isn't much place she can go. "Freedom of speech is a step better than your current situation, girl."

Whether or not she heard my words, I was already on my way to untying the cloth that is binding whatever is stuffed in her mouth. I ease the knot out of her mouth and with the gag gone, the rest of her auburn hair falls to her shoulders. Immediately after the knot is out of her mouth, she makes a very harsh effort of spitting out the stuffer. It takes her a few moments but eventually she frees her mouth of it. I take note that it seems to be a lingerie of some sort, drenched with her saliva from having been used as a stuffer. I would only surmise it would either be hers or depending on how malicious and perverted these bandits were it… could be the wood elf's and the stuffer on the bosmer's mouth could be the imperial girl's. But that is not something I should focus my attention on as I revert my focus back on the girl.

"Ah….. Please….. please…. Set me free…." She tries to move her hands to elaborate on her words. Of course it got her nowhere but to aggravate her womanhood with the crotch rope.

"Name." I respond coldly. Her stare wavers from mine so I take her chin and force her to make contact with my helmet's hollow face. "Give me your name, girl."

"R-Rena…. I.. I was… on my… my way back… to Falkearth.. and…"

"How you got yourself in this debacle is not of my concern, Rena." I take a few steps back and tap lightly on the hilt of the glass dagger. The ebony gauntlet echoes with the material of the dagger. "What matters now is how you get yourself out of here."

Her face spells far more confusion than solace at the moment, and I would understand her plight. Now with my back turned, I start to walk away, towards the entrance of this cave.

"Wait! You'll just leave us here!? WAIT!"

"The dagger is close. Some things you have to do on your own. Learn that lesson well, Rena, and perhaps you have yet a chance in this volatile world of Skyrim."

"FMMNN! UUU'UN NU HNUU! UUU'UN UF FMMFFNU UF FHN UNFF UF FHNM!"

While the bosmer screams through her gag with her discontent with how I am leaving them, she has made some efforts towards the knife. Her effort will be a bit more excruciating since both her legs are still forced bent and tied the way it is while Rena has more leeway. It's up to her to find it in her to free herself. Sherelle on the other hand slumps in her bonds, humbly accepting her fate. She could perhaps free herself faster than the others despite her strict hogtie, however she makes no movement. She merely looks down while trying her best not to move a muscle. Her fate would be under Rena and the bosmer's hands if they free themselves. What would they inflict up her if that is indeed the will of the moment? With that I keep walking away. Rena and the wood elf continue to shout for me … If they manage to undo what has been done to them… this story will be told. Another one to add to the story of the Dragonborn.

The Lover Stone.

I slowly slide off the Masque of Clavicus Vile letting the cool air hit my face. While the daedric artifact that adorns my face gives me clear vision, nothing is like having to set my own eyes upon the gifts I have given as a tribute. They serenade the ground adding more vibrancy in the almost dull setting of the Lover Stone. Soul gems grand and great, jewelry, enchanted blades, dragon bones… a myriad of things that I have earned, scavenged, and bought are scattered in no decorating pattern to them whatsoever, but they do their job as décor well enough. The torch I have set on one of the pillar has burned out and it takes a quick breath of flame to relight the tribute. The insignia of the lover stone is now even more prominent as I like it to be. Taking a deep breath, I let out a bellow of power towards the sky causing the surroundings to distort for a moment with the force I released. The skies are bright from all the stars. Then suddenly the stars are blanketed with black clouds. Shortly after, the sound of thunder and rain takes over and soon the storm I have summoned is now drenching the area with its power. While keeping my eyes on the carved form of the woman within this celestial stone, I kneel down, placing the Masque beside me.

"Lover," I say. "I have not fed in some time…. Will this atone for my sins?"

As always there is no answer. The shimmering of the trinkets, the crackling of fire getting hit by water, the waterfalls around me, and of course the storm is the only response I get….

The life of this Dragonborn is only through solitude and the will to do what is deemed justified at the moment….

The End. For Now.