Chapter IX

Concealed in the shadow of night, a small group moved quietly around the outside of the Karo farmhouse. They were watching, waiting for the right time to strike.

Only after an hour or so after the last candle had been snuffed out, did they creep into the farmhouse, easily picking the lock on the front door. They moved silently, unheard.

When they reached the top of the stairwell, they split into groups. Each were looking for the ones that dwelt within the old house.

Once before they had tried this. But they had been spotted by the workers in the smaller houses, who had promptly sounded the alarm with loud shouts. They were forced to retreat, lest they take unnecessary casualties, as the owner of the farm had shot at them with his crossbow.

Now those small buildings were vacant, unused. Their chances of being spotted or discovered before they got what they came for was almost zero. Their mission would succeed, their goals would be met.

They each found who they had been looking for, leaving the Orc where she lay. Soon they had the three Dunmer in shackles, ready to be taken away.

The family struggled and yelled muffled cries under their gags. It did them no good however, as it was already too late for them. The family would be taken back to Narsis City, a once proud Dunmer city, which now lay under Saxhleel control.


The day dawned and Magoza awoke with a yawn and a stretch. She climbed out of bed and dressed in her tunic and trousers. Then she made her way downstairs, into the kitchen area. Oddly enough, neither Darovin nor Llandri were up yet, which struck her as unusual. They were often up and about well before her.

She noticed the front door was open, and suspected that they were already outside working. However when she went out to look, they were nowhere to be seen.

Now she was starting to worry. It wasn't like them to leave the front door wide open, and not keep in view of the house. Something was wrong.

The young Orc quickly ran back into the farmhouse, making her way hurriedly up the stairs. She knocked hard on Darovin's and Llandri's bedroom door. When there was no answer, she pushed the door open to find the room was empty.

She moved further inside, her heart pounding hard in her chest. The bed sheets were torn, and a few ornaments on the night-stand was smashed. Magoza turned on her heels and ran out, bursting into Brendarr's room, finding that it was the same there.

Something terrible had happened while she had been sleeping. Someone or something had taken them, or even killed them and moved the bodies. While there was no blood, there were many ways they could have been murdered in the night without using instruments that caused bleeding. Whatever had happened, she found that once again she was terrified and alone.

She headed down to the kitchen area and sat down at the table, her head in her hands. She held back the tears that threatened to burst from her eyes, not knowing if she could. They had gone and she had no idea what to do, or even how to find them if they were even still alive, and able to be found.

Frantically, she moved from room to room. The Orc searched every cupboard and every drawer, hoping to find anything that could allude to where they had gone, why they had gone, or if there were any threatening letters hidden away to shed light on who could have taken them.

After a half hour of searching, she found nothing.

With only the chest by the window in the kitchen left, she pulled it open, rummaging through the assortment of random bits inside, removing quivers full of strange small arrows. Finally, she removed a large bow looking contraption made out of ebony. She put it to the side, not understanding what it was.

After finding nothing that could help her, she placed the ebony weapon back in the chest before closing it shut. There was nothing more that could be done here. The only place she could go was the city, to see if anyone there knew what had happened, or at least had a clue as to what had happened.

The problem was that it was a long trip to Almalexia, and she didn't quite know the way. She had only been there once before and that was a couple of days ago now.

With no other choice, she found her hide armour and orcish boots. As she put them on, she noticed how small, or rather how much bigger she was since she'd last worn them. The boots were cramped and the hide cuirass was tight. Nevertheless, she put them anyway, heading back downstairs to grab some supplies, packing them all into a large knapsack she found in one of the cupboards. Finally, she was ready to go. But As she pulled at the handle of the front door, something nagged at her in the back of her mind. She turned, looking down at the chest, that lay beneath the window.

While she hadn't known what the strange ebony bow-like contraption had been, she felt compelled to at least figure it out before leaving. There might be a chance depending on what she discovered in the city, that she might never come back here.

She threw the chest open and pulled it out along with the small unusual arrows. She rummaged some more until she found what looked like a sheath or scabbard. She pulled it out, inspecting it. From the way it was shaped, it appeared that it was designed to hold the odd bow.

She put the scabbard on, it draping down her back, sheathing the ebony bow device into it. She then grabbed the small arrow quivers and shoved most of them into her knapsack, only fixing one quiver to her belt.

She stepped outside, before unsheathing the contraption again, removing one of the small arrows and trying to figure out how it worked.

She pulled the bowstring back into a small hook that lay underneath a some kind of lever. Moving her head back in fear the string might snap and hit her, she pulled the lever backwards. It was tough, and felt like it might break, but she persevered and the lever locked in place, the bowstring pulled back taught.

Placing the small arrow into the small groove that lay in front of the bowstring which lay on top of the contraption, she aimed it at an old sign before wondering how to fire it. All she could see was a long piece of metal that ran parallel to the handle at the back of the body. She figured that if she pulled it with her fingers, that the bow-thing would fire the arrow.

Once again she aimed it at the sign and gripped the long piece of metal, pulling it hard with her four fingers. The contraption burst into life as it released the string, sending the arrow hurtling towards the target. It embedded itself deep into the wood, almost splitting the sign in two.

Magoza felt her jaw go slack at the sheer power the device held. It was far more powerful than any bow she had seen. The Orc knew that it would be a very useful tool to have with her. Magoza suddenly felt like an idiot, she almost left without it, disregarding it as useless to her. But it seemed it may be just the opposite.

With nothing more to lose, she gathered what little coin she could find around the house, and left the farm, heading eastwards along the road. Almalexia was her destination, and she desperately hoped someone there would have some idea as to what had happened to the Karo family. What had happened to her friends.


Valerie awoke from where she had slept, slouched on the wooden chair by her husband's side in the mages college. Her neck hurt and her back ached, a price she was willing to pay if it meant that she remained by Rontag's side. Her throat was also dry and her stomach kept on rumbling with hunger, but she decided to ignore it.

Tam had suggested to the restoration mage, Arellin, that they try something else. But the healer had simply told them that time was now the only cure. It hadn't been what Valerie had wanted to hear, as she desperately wanted to see Rontag awake, to see his eyes gazing into hers.

She reached for his hand, taking it in hers. A tear rolled down her cheek as she squeezed it gently, feeling the warmth of his hand in hers. All she wanted now was for him to awaken, for him to be all right.

Once again Valerie scolded herself, for being so angry at him for what he had mistakenly said. She had been so concerned about the dead, that she had forgotten the living. It was strange at how quickly she had forgotten how much she had missed him during his absence. Now she remembered it all too well.

"You came back to me once," she said aloud, her voice cracking under the emotional strain. "Come back to me again."

Her hopes were raised as she felt her husband's hand twitch. She rose up from the chair and looked closely at his face, desperately hoping his eyes would open, that once again she would see his smile.

"Rontag?" she whispered. "Rontag, are you awake?"

When he didn't respond to her pleading, she sat back down feeling dejected. Deep down she knew he would return to her. She just didn't know when.


The snow was falling heavily, washing the sky a bright white. Faldan complained to Rasha about it yet again, but as before, she ignored him. She had started to shiver, uncontrollably at times. Her toes were numb, and her face ached from the cold. No matter how bad she felt, she knew that they both had to continue on or they would probably die from exposure.

The two of them were heading northwards on the road that they had just set foot on not a half hour ago, though sometimes they wondered if they were still on it. The road was almost invisible under the thick snow, only patches of its surface showed through here and there. It was just enough for them to follow, but too little for them to stop concentrating, for even a second, lest they lose sight of it.

Using a map, they had headed around Lake Yorgrim on the south shore, where there was only white snowy wilderness. Rasha had decided that it would be safer than trying to get around the bandits, and that because it was a lake, that they wouldn't get as easily lost if they followed it around.

Unfortunately, it hadn't been entirely safe, having narrowly avoided a bear and then getting slightly lost in the night, by going too far west. Eventually they found the lake again and continued north, then east around it.

An hour or so before dawn, they passed a cave with odd bronze pipes around it. Rasha had briefly stopped, wondering what they were, before continuing on, as snow had started to flutter from the sky.

Now it was sometime in the mid-morning, and the weather had gotten much worse. Their visibility was almost non-existent beyond twelve paces or so, and concern that they would freeze to death was starting to become a real possibility.

"Erm, do you mind if we head left at the upcoming junction?" Faldan asked suddenly.

"Wrong direction," Rasha told him.

"There's an inn there."

She looked over at him before nodding slowly. "That's a good idea," she agreed. "Good thinking."

"Just what I thought," he said, before adding. "To get out of this freezing cold."

At the junction they turned left, and before long, they came across the lonesome inn. They quickened their pace, almost rushing up the wooden steps to the front door. They both stepped inside, into the invigorating warmth.

The place was empty apart from a Cyrodilic couple who sat over at a table, and the Nord who was stood behind the bar.

"More customers?" he said loudly with a wide smile. "It must be my lucky day."

"Yes," Rasha said before sitting down at one of the tables.

Faldan sat next to her, sighing with pleasure at the heat of the fire on his back.

"Want anything to eat or drink?" the innkeeper asked them.

"Got any hot drinks?" the Ohmes-Raht-Khajiit replied.

"We've got mead, that's it I'm afraid."

"Oh,"

"If you really want something to drink that's non-alcoholic, then sorry. Unless you buy some stew. That's got water in it. Otherwise you could probably scoop up some snow from outside. Bring it in by the fire and then you'll have a drink."

"So you don't have watermelons or anything like that?" she asked. "So I can make a hot watermelon drink out of it, or is that too much to ask out here?"

He shook his head with a grin. "We're not in Elsweyr up here, can't get any fancy stuff like that."

"Well actually, I was born and raised in Cyrodiil," she told him. "Something my mother taught me how to make."

"Cyrodiil you say? Did you come up here because of the war?" he asked.

"Yes and no, things are not pretty down there at the moment. The war may be over, but the scars are plain as day."

"Well Skyrim is pretty much the same as it's always been," he told her.

"I see. Anyway, can I have some of that stew?"

"Sure."

"And some for me," Faldan added.

A few moments later, the innkeeper brought them their stew and they both ate it in silence. Once their bowls were empty, they both turned around to face the large fire.

Faldan looked across at Rasha, who sat beside him. The way the firelight hit the side of her face, made her look strangely attractive, despite the fact that she was a Khajiit and certainly not one he had an eye for. Not usually anyway.

She looked back at him, her eyes narrowed. "Something wrong?" the Khajiit asked.

He looked away. "No, nothing."

"You were staring at me," she said. "I haven't spilled stew on my face have I?" she asked, rubbing around her mouth.

"No, it was nothing."

"Thinking about Winterhold?"

His heart skipped a beat. He hadn't really thought about it. The truth was, he had no idea how Tam would react. On that final day, he had left the mine, telling the Altmer that he was going for some air. In actuality he was telling the Thalmor, which had arrived in his small home late last night, that she was in the mine with the rest of the village. He had expected them to simply retrieve her, and for them to then wipe away the records of his less than legitimate past, so that he could return to his home in Valenwood and restart his life among his people.

Instead they had sought to kill him. But he had been a sneaky little bastard, and they hadn't gotten him quite that easily. But Tam was a problem for him. He hadn't really considered it, but when they finally got to Winterhold and found her, then she'd know for sure that he was behind the deaths back at Minestead. He knew that she would probably kill him, and he would deserve it. All those people had died because he had wanted to go home. Now he knew that he could never go home again. Ever.

Faldan realised he had to face what he'd done like a mer. He would reveal all to Tam. She deserved that much. He looked over at Rasha. "Why did you decide not to kill me?" he asked her. "The Thalmor won't like that."

"Because I'm not Dark Botherhood, or just any old sell-sword. I've always lived by a strong moral code. Unfortunately it's the reason I don't get many bounties. Lack of gold is how I ended up in the Thalmor Embassy acquiring their shady contract."

"But Tam will not be happy when she discovers what I did," he told her. "She will kill me."

"I'll make sure that doesn't happen," the Ohmes-Raht reassured him.

Somehow, he knew she was telling the truth, and strangely he was relieved the Thalmor had sent her to kill him. He was discovering that a bounty hunter with a conscience made for a bad bounty hunter, and he was glad. Very glad.


Following the old road signs to the city of Almalexia hadn't been easy, especially when some of the signposts at road junctions had missing directions on it. Another problem had been that a couple of times she had been attacked by small worm-like creatures, though they had not been difficult, as a quick fireball had easily dealt with them. Now in the early afternoon, she set foot once again into the old decrepit city.

From what she had been told by the Karo family, Almalexia and Mournhold had once been occupied and sacked by an Argonian invasion force. The Dunmer had then some time later fought back, driving the lizard-like people from their homes and reoccupied the city. However it wasn't the same as it had been. The city was in ruin, and many who returned to continue the lives they had lost, found that their homes had been destroyed and they quickly became penniless.

It was terrible what had become of the folk here, but Magoza knew she couldn't help the destitute. However, there was a possibility that if she could find out what happened to the Karo's, that she could at least help them.

She rushed over to the first guard she saw. "Excuse me?" she said frantically, moving in front of him.

"What?" he asked, his deep voice slightly muffled behind the thick bone-mould helmet.

"The Karo's are gone!" she said.

"Who are the Karo's?" the guard asked her. "And why should I care?"

"They owned a farm a few miles west, they've gone, vanished!" she yelled.

"A lot of folks go missing," the guard said. "Now move off!"

"But they've been taken!" she cried out.

"I said clear off!" the guard warned.

"Don't you care!?"

"I'm here to keep the city safe, nothing more. Now go away or I'll throw you in jail."

"But they've been taken!" she bawled.

The guard rested his right hand on the hilt of his sword. "Go away outlander, or I will throw you behind thick steel bars," he threatened.

"But-"

"Enough!" he yelled.

Magoza turned away, fighting back the tears. The guard wouldn't help her, and she had no clue as to who would.

She headed deeper into the city, wiping tears as they fell from her eyes. There was nowhere she could go, no one she could talk to.

"Will someone help me!?" she screamed as she meandered down the street. She felt absolutely alone. The strange architecture, the large mushrooms, silt-striders, netches and other alien looking creatures, only solidified the sense that she was far from anything she even remotely considered home.

"Help me!"

The locals stared at her, some moved to the other side of the street. Others grabbed their children and took them inside, while the homeless sat there looking at the Orc as she passed them by.

Magoza froze. In the distance she saw an oddly familiar elderly Nord woman. The old Nord looked across at her, a smile forming on her pale lips. Then she turned, heading down into an alleyway.

For a moment, she thought it was Nora, a most kind woman who she had met back in a small farming village known as Rorikstead in Skyrim. She knew it couldn't be her, as she had died. Still, there was a frightening resemblance. So much so in fact, that Magoza felt compelled to follow her.

She ran over to the alleyway, looking down it to see if she was there. Whoever the old Nord woman had been, was nowhere to be found. All she saw was an Argonian dressed in dark clothes, who appeared to be homeless, sat in an angled gutter leant up against a house wall.

The young Orsimer slowly made her way over to him, frightful of his strange appearance and dagger-like teeth. He looked over at her and she froze. His eyes were narrow, and his snout long and scaly. Now she was closer, she realised his dark clothes was actually armour. The cuirass appeared to be made of iron or steel, and the greaves, sleeves and hood, were made out of leather.

The Argonian quickly grabbed a bow, something she hadn't noticed was there. "What do you want!?" he hissed at her.

Her mind began to race. Why had she come down the alleyway? Then she remembered, the old woman had come this way.

"Leave me be!" the Argonian said again, his voice raspy.

"Did you see an Old Nord woman come down here?" Magoza questioned, slowly easing her way backwards.

"No," he responded angrily.

Magoza thought that odd. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am sure," he said, his already narrow pupils narrowing even more. "You are the only person I've seen down here in the last few hours," he said.

That couldn't be right. She had seen the old woman walk down this very alleyway, and there were no doors or anything, so she must have passed him by at the very least. "But I saw her come down here," she said again.

"You must be mistaken."

She looked at his bow, then at his armour. Neither looked damaged or particularly aged. Something which struck her as odd considering he was sat in the gutter. "Are you okay?" she asked him, concerned by his obvious plight. "You don't look homeless, but you're sitting in the alley like one."

"There is nothing you can do, now go away!"

She shrugged. "Fine, wallow there in pity! I have a family to find!" she spat.

She turned and began to make her way out of the alleyway.

"Hold on!" she heard the Argonian hiss from behind her.

She turned around. "You want to talk to me now?"

"What do you mean? Has a family gone missing?"

"The Karo's, they own a farm miles west of here."

"Gone in the night?" he asked. "With little sign of a struggle?"

"Yes, but whoever took them left me behind," she told him. "Why would they do that!?"

The Argonian rose up slowly from where he sat. "I may know what happened to them," he revealed.

"What!?" she asked hopeful and fearful at the same time.

"Do you have any clues as to what happened to them?" he questioned.

"No, just that they vanished."

"If they left you, an Orc, but took the Dark Elves, then it was probably by the command of a Talen-Xil."

"Who?"

"He's an Argonian," he revealed. "Lives in a large manor house outside of Narsis City."

"Narsis City?" she asked him.

"It was a Dark-Elf city, but now it is controlled by my people."

"Then we must go save them!"

"We?" he questioned. "Depending on whether he has a buyer or not, they might not even be there any more."

"What do you mean a buyer?" she asked him concerned.

"Some wealthy Argonians like to take the Dark-Elves as slaves. They see it as some kind of retribution for the slavery the Dark Elves used to shackle my people with."

"That's horrible!"

"Yes. Well it's probably already too late for them."

"But there may still be time. They only vanished last night."

The Argonian sat back down. "Then I wish you luck," he said to her.

"You're not going to help me?" she asked.

"No, I am not welcome there."

"But you have to help me."

He scowled at her, or at least she thought it was a scowl. "I do not have to do anything," he told her coolly.

"Please!?" she begged. "I don't even know where Narsis is!?"

"Then buy a map!" he replied with a raised voice. "You already got a lot from me, and I am tired."

"You're a monster!" she yelled.

"That is what the people around here call me."

She turned and left. All she had on her was what she had found around the house, which had been only fifty gold coins. While it was more than enough to get a map, she knew out here it wouldn't last her long. She just hoped someone sold one that included southern Morrowind.

Updated 03/04/2014