Slave to Fate
"Well, well. Aren't we the overachiever. Three possibilities, three victims. Must have been one of them, right? So why take chances..."
-Astrid
Chapter Eight: Escape from Riften
For Skyrim, winter started early and lasted longer. The snow settled prematurely along with the biting winds that were normally found in the mountains. The 3rd of Heartfire was when the first snow flurries began to fall in the Rift a time that was supposed to be late summer. And Alodie hated it.
As advised by Brynjolf, he took a week break preparing for his journey to Whiterun. He normally wouldn't have listened to the preposterous proposition of a break but he had to agree that he was tired after Goldenglow and Maven's antics. He spent the time, however, improving his archery and increasing his combat skills. Throughout the week, he noticed that Vex avoided him like a plague not to mention that he felt himself being watched at random times during the day. Mercer also seemed to avoid him for some reason. He wondered if the Guild Master was actually jealous that he got a job from Maven directly. He wasn't entirely sure on that theory though.
Pacing silently on one of Riften's many bridges he ignored the many stares from the passerby and concentrated on figuring out his plan to rescue Mjoll. He lifted his hood when the wind was blowing too much snow into his face, shivering slightly from the late "summer" breeze. The evening was approaching slowly along with his plan.
Without even noticing the people he passed as he paced the bridges, he ran into a small figure, stepping back.
"Sorry—" he began.
"You," was all the Imperial said. Alodie looked down to see Aerin, Mjoll's friend. He frowned as he saw the small man's angered expression turn feral. "What are you doing here?" he asked with spite. Alodie was not afraid of the small Imperial.
"I think that I can walk wherever I want, Aerin," he muttered softly before attempting to walk past. Aerin didn't move however.
"I think you owe me an explanation like – I don't know – what have you been doing this past week? Are you actually hiding?" Alodie took offense to this and bristled like an alerted hound. It wasn't as if Aerin was trying to do anything to help Mjoll so did he really have to blame him for not attempting to try yet? Actually, yeah, he probably did.
Shaking his head, he frowned apologetically as he felt a large welt of guilt. Aerin saw his hurt face and smiled coyly. "Yeah, and you should feel that way. You are nothing but a coward."
"I'm rescuing Mjoll. Tonight," he said with a straight face. The weak Imperial frowned slightly at Alodie's proclamation. He hadn't expected the shady Imperial to actually help Mjoll, after all he was a part of the Thieves Guild now. What was in it for him?
Aerin shook his head stepping back. The wind blew the light flurries into Alodie, the cold biting his face. "It's too late. Mjoll can't be rescued now," he said. Alodie felt like laughing in the Imperial's face.
"Of course she can. I'm thinking of the plan right now. I've been waiting for the perfect time all week," he said. Snow can cover tracks that could lead Mjoll back in prison. Today was a better day then tomorrow when the snow would likely stop. Aerin didn't see the reason in this however.
"What are you going to do then? And what about me, I will always stay with Mjoll no matter where she goes." Are you that crazy for Mjoll that you would actually risk yourself to simply follow her? Alodie only felt like laughing again.
But it was true that he still had no means of transportation. Normally he would have bought a horse for himself and Mjoll but he didn't have the money for that, his 400 gold sitting securely in the Thieves Guild hideout gathering dust. He did buy a few medical supplies for the journey ahead and he was pretty sure that he was secure on the rations since Vekel already promised to give him some with a bit of his gold.
Getting a carriage would be too risky, it could easily be stopped by guards and they would have an entire new mess on their hands. So, he found a use for Aerin.
"Fine, if you want to help then do you have any horses?" he asked. Aerin shook his head but glance over to his house.
"I don't but I could probably get some," he said. Alodie nodded enthusiastically. There was one problem solved.
"Good, then I want you to buy three that you can afford and meet us at the southern gates at midnight. Don't be late." Before he could leave satisfied, Aerin shook his head turning around to face the sly Imperial.
"No, no, no. I'm only buying Mjoll and I a horse. I'm not wasting my money on you. Go steal it or something." Alodie's mouth shot open as he heard the Imperial's ridicules protest. Was the man serious? He would rather let him steal his own horse then buy it legitimately? Aerin was defiantly testing his patience and wondered if taking him along would only spell trouble along the way. He felt that Mjoll would be able to control him though.
Knowing that there was no reasoning with him, Alodie shrugged.
"Fine, I'll manage." After all, he did deserve it. Walking away from the Imperial, he headed towards the stables prepared to find a horse then quietly lead it away. Hopefully no one would notice…
Windhelm was bursting with joy as Ulfric Stormcloak, the leader of the rebels, returned home at the head of hundreds of soldiers. It was as if a makeshift parade had suddenly appeared from nowhere across the large stone bridge over the frozen White River. People gathered, happiness on most but not all of their faces as Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak arrived on a dark stead followed by Ralof and many others.
Ulfric, however, was not happy at all.
While his people rejoiced at how he had survived the Imperial scum, he frowned at his humiliation among the Greybeards. He felt like shouting out words of power for no reason at all. Maybe simply to spite them. Spite them all. When the Dragonborn did show up, he would find any flaws he could just to spite them. He wasn't perfect, they weren't perfect, and so he wasn't perfect.
He would obviously respect him, Talos after all was a Dragonborn. But now that these dragons have appeared, he was powerless to defeat any of them and had to rely on someone he didn't even know. Only a dragonborn could truly kill a dragon. And he wasn't one.
Snow billowed fiercely into Nordic, Dunmeri, and Argonian faces. This snow storm came seemingly out of nowhere, winter beginning sooner than he expected. Season Unending. He was sure that death would soon follow.
His war with the Empire made his people tired. It made him tired, though he didn't like to admit it. Raids on Thane forts, ambushes from the road on new recruits, sabotage within the ranks – the Imperial's would stop at nothing to see this Civil War end. And it wouldn't until he sat upon the High King's throne instead of that puppet, Elisif. Although loved by the people she did nothing to help Skyrim's religious problems – Talos was still banned to worship throughout Skyrim. Maybe that was why the dragons returned, the ghost of Tiber Septim gave them life again. So, it was still the cowardly Empire's fault for running away from their problems.
He breathed out a plume of warm air as he made his way to the Palace of Kings. Most of the people – all Nords most likely – fawned over him as if he had already become the High King. Ralof himself grinned at the attention and waved at the people while Ulfric remained stone faced. His Jarl was definitely angry over what happen at the Throat of the World and he guessed that he would get into a fit as soon as they got off of their horses. He didn't want to be around when that happened.
As Ralof left Ulfric who didn't even seem to bother looking at him, he headed towards the Candlehearth Hall in search for a strong drink after what he had been through. The sun was setting upon the celebrating city, the cold Heartfire day becoming even colder. It was hard to believe that it had been two months since he set foot inside the old walls of Windhelm.
As Ralof thought this, an old woman passed him an ominous warning as she hung a poster on the wooden boards of the Hall. "Beware the Butcher, Stormcloak! Beware!" Ralof smirked slyly at the woman while shaking his head wondering what in all of the Oblivion planes has gotten into these people. Well, he really had no room to say anything, not that he was any less crazy.
He stepped inside the warm tavern and was greeted by another blue armored soldier, his friend Tokar. The brown haired Nord raised his ale at his arrival and laughed once, the inn keeper giving him a dirty look.
"And here comes the walking dead!" he cried out chugging his ale. Ralof laughed fondly, sitting next to his friend. He and Tokar came from Whiterun hold so they instantly made a connection. Ralof never truly regretted leaving Riverwood to join the Stormcloaks but home was what he truly missed. Tokar was just another piece of home, his accent, his customs, all of it. Though the two had separated after the attack at Darkwater.
"How is the ale my friend?" he asked, smiling. Tokar shook his head, spilling his ale obviously drunk as most of the people were in the tavern. Ralof put a few coins on the table and was instantly met with his own tankard.
"Not good, friend. Not good." Tokar took another chug but spit it out when he started choking on the beverage. Coughing and laughing, the dark haired Nord slammed his tankard down in a drunken fit. "It's so expensive now Ralof! Remember the good old days?" he chuckled. "Of course you do, it was only a few years ago after all. And now you're almost a general!"
Ralof nodded at this and looked at his dark ale, trying to remember the day he signed up. Gerdur had applauded him along with her husband Hod but he had lost his old friend that day to the Imperial bastards. Hadvar.
He had grown up with that bastard, hell they were like brothers. And in response to him joining the Stormcloaks, Hadvar joined the Imperials. How could such a trivial thing tear them apart? The Imperials were the enemies! They were the traitors! Thinking about it only set him into a rage, emptying his mug in half a second. Tovar seemed to applaud him.
"Go at it my friend, you deserve it," he said. "You know, I heard about your capture at Darkwater. Bad business there. But a dragon of all things going to rescue your sorry hide?" He snickered. "Impossible!"
Ralof paused looking up to his friend. "There really was a dragon, Tokar." At this, his blue armored friend grew serious and slowly put his tankard down on the bar. Before his friend could comment on that, the sound of a lute strumming came from above. Ralof smiled. "Come on friend, we need a bit of song to lift our spirits," he said. Tokar, completely forgetting what Ralof just told him, nodded quickly downing the rest of his ale.
"To Ulfric!" he shouted followed by a few others who echoed his call. Ralof, strangely, was not among them.
Following Ralof, Tokar struggled up the stairs before collapsing completely at the top. Knowing that his friend was down for good, Ralof lifted him against the wall patting his head as if he was a small pup. "Did good right there you did," he muttered to his unconscious friend.
Before he could continue on, a song sung by a Nord bard caused him to stop in his tracks as if the Greybeards themselves shouted at him.
"Our hero, our hero claims a warrior's heart,
I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes,
With a voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art,
Believe, believe the Dragonborn comes."
Her voice caused most in the room to drunkenly sing along while he simply stood there like an idiot. He didn't know why but he felt that what she sang was true. If the Dragonborn wasn't Ulfric then someone else was coming. He just didn't know who or what.
"It's an end to the evil of all Skyrim's foes,
Beware, beware the Dragonborn comes,
For the darkness has past and the legend yet grows,
You'll know, you'll know the Dragonborn's come."
As the song continued he shook his head. The people knew that this dragon problem was a call for the end times. They shouldn't have any hope yet he did. He only hoped that it wouldn't be too late. When the song finished the drunken Nords hooted with a drunken laughter as they all hoped for the future. One however, was not so hopeful.
"All the Dragonborns are dead. They aren't coming to save us!" a stout Nord yelled spilling a bit of his mead. A few people nodded with him as the Bard shrugged.
"That's simply a song I heard. I don't make things up," she said. The Nords in the room laughed while a few who didn't know what the Dragonborn was remained in the dark.
"Are you talking about the Septims? They're all dead!" One Imperial shouted. Ralof went to stare at the scholarly Imperial who was suddenly the center of attention. Knowing that his drunken state caused him to burst out unknowingly, he muttered a small curse before returning to his drink. Everyone else though didn't simply disregard it.
"The Septims weren't the only Dragonborns you idiot," shouted the stout Nord. The Imperial huffed as if the discussion was over. "Imperials," he muttered. "Think the world revolves them and their little 'Emperor.' Just wait until Ulfric becomes the new Dragonborn then shows who is truly meant for the High King's throne." The Imperial, clearly angered at the statement, stood.
"What was that?" he yelled.
Seeing that this was his time to leave, he went out into the blizzard, the cold night emptying out of the second floor exits. Looking over his shoulder to his prone friend who would sleep during the entire brawl, he sighed and bowed a quick apology, heading towards the barracks.
That was when he saw the body. Before him was a crowd of people surrounding a naked body of a poor Nord woman. Since he was a Stormcloak, he easily made his way past the witnesses to this crime and walked up to the body.
An Arkay priest muttered a few prayers, a few swirls of magicka leaving her brittle hands. Another Stormcloak stood at attention when he saw Ralof, seeing his badges of office. The body itself didn't look as if it had been mishandled except for the gaping hole in the woman's spine.
A butcher, was the only thing that came to mind.
The Riften prisons were silent as the night grew, the snow turning into a small blizzard that covered the fall forest in a thin blanket of snow. Unsurprisingly, the jails held numerous amounts of convicts both guilty and innocent of their crimes. One such was Mjoll the Lioness and no matter what, Alodie would free her. After all, this was his entire fault and it's not like the Guild had to know anything about her jail break.
Remembering his silent promise to the warrior, he made his way past a sleeping guard – either the place was too lax or they just didn't care about escapees anymore. Either way, he cracked the door open and marched through as if he knew exactly what he was doing – which he didn't. Apparently, he was convincing enough to walk right past a wine-colored guard oblivious to the clear break of security.
He passed many people – some beggars other murderers – and tried to ignore their calls to him. He cared only about one prisoner and one prisoner alone.
In the corner of her cell sat Mjoll, defeated and alone. Her eyes lifted when she noticed a dark hooded figure approach her cell and glared at the intruder.
"What do you want? You know I'm not in a really great mood—"
Alod took off his hood to reveal his features and at that, Mjoll relaxed. She hadn't expected the Imperial to show up but it was better than nothing. "What are you doing here?" she asked. He grasped the handle to her cage firmly and glanced around him checking to see if no one would spy him. Bending down, Alodie produced a single lockpick and began to jab at the lock. Mjoll stood quickly.
"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, worried. Alodie only grunted a response as he twisted the two lockpicks trying to unlock the door. The task proved to be difficult and Alodie was tempted to go and find a key. So, standing, he pocketed his lockpicks and began heading towards the sleeping guard once more. "Wait!"
He paused and looked the Nord over in confusion. Her iron armor had completely disappeared along with her battle axe replaced with simple rags and her face appeared tight and worn as if she had aged inside her cell. Imprisonment was not doing Mjoll any good.
"I'm trying to get you out of here Mjoll," he responded, preparing to leave. The prisoner shook her head.
"You don't understand. My problems are my problems alone, Alodie. I can't rely on anyone but myself." At this, Alodie groaned deeply, rubbing his temple. This stubborn woman couldn't respect a simple rescue mission. Didn't she care at all about her personal safety?
Getting closer to the bars, he whispered low yet harshly. "Maven is going to have you in here for the rest of your days. Now, if you don't want to be a useless bag of flesh for the rest of your life, your best bet would be to leave Riften. For good." Mjoll didn't seem fazed at the proposition.
"You see? This is what Maven wants. It doesn't matter if I'm caged or released into the wilderness as long as I don't meddle in her 'business' then that's fine with her."
Alodie looked away from the Nord's determined eyes and glared at the decaying walls.
"You can't save Riften, Mjoll. Not when the city doesn't even want to save itself," he said. The words stung Mjoll like raging hornets. What he said was true and yet she…thought she could make it work. Save Riften from the animals infested within. It was the reason why she stayed in this miserable little town for three years. And yet… maybe someone else could do what even she could not.
She stared hard into Alodie's avoiding eyes. "Then you save it." He looked over to the prisoner in disbelief. He was a member of the Thieves Guild, he wasn't sure if that was even close to "saving" Riften. In actuality, he didn't really care about the town or its people. For now, it served him as the perfect hiding place for him and that was where he needed it to stay.
But for how long? He still had to save the Empire from total collapse and he couldn't save an unimportant town along with it. He turned rapidly as Mjoll held her breath for an answer. She never truly got one as he lifted his hood and walked towards the prone guard.
The guard's helmet lay on the floor, his hand resting carefully on the top of it. Alodie spied multiple keys on his belt and glanced around to see if the other patrolling guards didn't notice him. He waited until she turned the next corner before sticking his hand lightly on the belt, loosening the keys. The Nord snorted loudly, mumbling something before turning in his chair, moving his hand off of his helmet. Smirking, Alodie headed towards Mjoll's cell once again.
The Nord warrior glared at Alodie as he unlocked the cage.
"Come on, we need to get out of here," he whispered. He raised his hand for her to take but she remained still, refusing the gesturer. The Imperial groaned, lowering his hand. "Mjoll, you're being unreasonable."
"I still haven't gotten my answer."
Alodie couldn't believe this woman. "Fine, I'll save Riften. Now let's go."
Mjoll didn't believe in the Imperial's tone as he said those words. She took a step back as she still refused to follow him. Alodie felt like screaming. "What is it that you want now?" he asked harshly. She shook her head at the impatience of Alodie. Could she believe him? Maybe he could change the Thieves Guild maybe he couldn't but she still wasn't sure if she could leave.
"Hey, what about me you bastard!" he heard another man call out from behind. Alodie turned to face the opposite cell seeing a well-dressed man fuming behind him. Great, even more trouble, he thought bitterly. He went up quickly to the bars of Sibbi's prison and grabbed his coat from the bars pulling him closer. The Nord shook visibly.
"Raise your voice one more time," he threatened. The warning turned out to be useless as a guard sauntered in after hearing Sibbi's voice, gasping as she found the cell door unlocked.
"What do you think you're—?"
She was cut short by Alodie's knife cutting off her vocal cords followed by her life. Mjoll's eyes budged out of their sockets as the guard slumped to the ground, dead. Sibbi made no more attempts to scream or even speak for that matter only moving his mouth back and forth like a hammer. Alod ignored him, turning to Mjoll again. He opened the door to her prison a bit wider.
"What in Oblivion—?" she started. Alodie ignored the statement and instead grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. She strangely didn't find herself resisting the murderer and instead followed his lead. Sibbi made himself complexly disappear after the death of the Riften guard.
As they went down the hall, Alodie stopped to peer inside another room which held a surmountable amount of weapons. He spotted a similar battleaxe that Mjoll had before and threw it to her. She barely caught the weapon though, the axe clanging to the ground. Alodie noticed this and came closer to the Nord, close enough to be almost breathing on her.
She hadn't noticed it before but the Imperial before her was at least a few inches shorter than her almost in a comical way. His eyes, however, betrayed his size almost as if they themselves were a dagger ready to pierce their prey.
"Do you want to kill us?" he asked darkly.
She wasn't treating this seriously she realized as her grey eyes hardened. She had no choice but to follow the Imperial now, wherever he went.
Seeing her grave eyes, Alodie moved to the armor racks going through them. He was surprised at the low security of the place but he had a feeling that it was due to the fact that the prisoners had to stay. Either Black-Briar blackmailed them or something else. It was obvious that no one was worried of any runaways though.
He grabbed a guard's uniform that could fit the Nord and threw that at her as well. Seeing the plan formulating in his mind, she nodded pulling the chainmail over her head and putting the guard's helmet on. She wouldn't be surprised if a few Thieves Guild members had already tried this sort of thing once or twice.
Alodie nodded when she finished and glanced out of the armory. Seeing no one rise in alarm to the dead guard down the hall, he headed towards the exit with Mjoll in tow, shaking her head. He really had a lot to answer for.
Disguised as a guard, their escape would be more then easy but before they could simply walk out, the guard that had been asleep woke up as the door opened. Seeing Alodie first he sat up quickly.
"What do you think you're doing in there?" he asked. Alodie, prepared to kill again, reached for his sword. Mjoll, seeing the quick action, held his shoulder tightly and responded to the guard in a lazy tone.
"He's supposed to be here," she said. Alodie went to glare at Mjoll but the warrior completely ignored him. Releasing his grip on his sword, he played along.
"Of course," he said.
The guard, not that altogether convinced, shrugged and returned to his chair.
"Whatever, I don't care," he said. "I only hope you didn't mess with the prisoners."
"I made sure he didn't," Mjoll responded. Alodie rolled his eyes at the irony before making his way down the hall followed by Mjoll. The guard shook his head at the weird pair before returning back blissfully to his dreams of Sovngarde.
Marcurio sighed, kicking a rock as he walked by Lake Honrich's banks. He was definitely down on his luck in gold and his dream of becoming a rich and famous wizard back in Cyrodiil was all but crushed in this pathetic town. If only he had a group of people to lead him on his hunt for both adventure and riches! But these stupid Nords didn't know what "adventure" was. He sniffed the air once before noticing three horses outside of Riften and a nervous looking Imperial beside them.
He smiled. Where there were horses, there were travelers and where there were travelers, there was adventure. Aerin, seeing the strange wizard glared at the man hostilely underneath the two moons light.
"Who are you?" Aerin asked. The wizard bowed perfectly as if he was going to perform a trick of some sort.
"My name is Marcurio and for 300 septims you could have yourself a powerful friend in these coming dark times. 300 septims! Don't tell me that's a bad price my good—" Before he could finish his sales pitch, two figures dropped from above, one clumsily landing on her back. The guards outside the gates didn't seem even bothered.
Alodie stood glancing at Aerin and the new person who made himself known. That wizard from before, he thought, what does he want now? Marcurio studied the guard who stood up quickly to glare at him and wondered in what world did the shady Imperial become friends with the local authority. Neither Mjoll nor Aerin knew the man but the wizard definitely recognized Alodie.
"Well, would you look what the horker dragged in?" he started, smiling. Alodie ignored the wizard and went to check on the horses. The one he stole, a whitish-brown mare, had no saddle but it would make do for now. Pointing to the other two horses, both Aerin and Mjoll tightened their saddles before lifting themselves onto their steads. Marcurio blanched at this.
"Are you actually leaving me behind again?" he asked in shock. Alodie glanced at the wizard and sighed. He didn't need or want another person to tag along for the ride but this wizard seemed to be as stubborn as an angry bull.
He looked over to Mjoll who shrugged. She wondered who exactly the Imperial was and how Alod came to know him but she guessed that those questions would have to be answered later. Getting onto his stolen horse, Alodie sighed wondering how he could chase the rogue wizard away.
"I told you that I didn't need your help," he said. Marcurio smiled, holding his hip with one hand while showing his right. A small wisp of fire came protruding from his hand as he looked at him proudly.
"With a master of magic at your side, you'll have nothing to worry about," he said. Alodie felt like laughing at the wizards face before the fire in his hand suddenly grew. Soon, Marcurio's entire face was blocked by a roaring flame the size of a camp fire. He yelped sharply before waving his hand in the air trying to put the fire out. The three before him only stared after him as he just proved himself wrong. "W-well, almost master of magic. I still can control most of my spells," he said, laughing nervously. Alodie wasn't convinced.
"The only reason I would let you come is if you make yourself useful," he said. Marcurio nodded three times as both Mjoll and Aerin glared at the wizard.
"My destruction magic is ahead of its time. No wizard is able to produce the amount of ice and fire I, Marcurio, am able to produce. I'm a living legend so you have to –"
"Alright, good. Start by carrying this," Alodie said, throwing a few bags at the proud wizard. Marcurio frowned deeply yet before he could protest, Alodie began to move away down the road followed by Aerin and Mjoll. The wizard turned a bright red.
"I am an apprenticed wizard – not a pack mule!" he yelled after them. Alodie rolled his eyes as they led their horses down the snowy road, the evening growing until the moons cast their light high above them, a blue glow reflecting off the waters. Mjoll sighed and came up to Alodie who was far ahead of the pair.
"You know he's still following us, right?" she asked. Alodie nodded but didn't respond completely. Mjoll shook her head before taking the helmet off. "Who is he?" she asked him.
"Just some annoying mercenary," he replied before continuing, eyes fixed on the side of the road. She looked to see the wizard trailing behind them but close enough to Aerin to still be within shouting distance. Aerin remained silent though was rejoicing at Mjoll's appearance. He knew though that now was not the time to be striking up a friendly conversation – they were still, after all, in the Rift.
Mjoll saw the struggling Imperial and frowned. "Can't he ride with Aerin? I mean, it probably wouldn't hurt…" she said. Alodie sighed heavily before fixing his eye onto her own dark ones, the white snow illuminating her pale face.
"I don't really care," he said. He stopped his horse with a light tap of his heel and was surprised to see the mare respond quickly. It was obviously well trained. Aerin, confused, stopped his horse along with Mjoll who looked over her friend in a pleading way. Marcurio smiled as the troop stopped, placing the heavy bags roughly onto the thin layer of snow. The three all stared at the wizard who breathed heavily never having to run so hard in his life. Alodie glanced at Mjoll, waiting for her to make the offer but she didn't so instead he went to look at Aerin. Aerin himself was still confused as to why they stopped.
Marcurio, on the other hand, thought they stopped for another reason. "Admit it, you were lost without me!" he said through shallow breathes. "'Oh, which way do I go?' you are thinking, 'I wonder if Marcurio knows, after all he's pretty smart.' Because I am, of cour—"
"Do you want to ride with one of us or not?" Alodie said attempting to stop the wizard's incessant talking. Marcurio, smiling, put the bags he was holding on Aerin's horse causing him to move back slightly in disgust. Mjoll suddenly regretted ever suggesting the kind act of letting the Imperial ride with them.
"So you actually want me to come along?" he began, "Surprise, surprise! I will make sure you will not regret your decision," he said. Aerin narrowed his eyes.
"We really should keep moving…" he said. However, the wizard completely talked over him causing his anger to only rise.
"In case you didn't know, my name is Marcurio. Just Marcurio," he said holding out a hand. Seeing that no one was close enough or willing enough to shake his hand, he put it down slowly. Alodie, obviously want to get a move on, glared at the man.
"And why are you following us?" he asked. Marcurio only laughed causing the saddle beneath Aerin to rock slightly.
"Are you kidding? Because Riften is boring. Didn't I already explain this to you?" he asked, leaning on Aerin's chestnut horse. Mjoll looked over to his suffering friend and smiled a small apology to him only gaining a small glare that wasn't directed at her. Alodie, the supposed "leader" now, continued to glare at the wizard.
"Yes, you did and yes it's still stupid," he said. Shaking his head, Alodie turned around to face the road again. They only were able to make their way past Goldenglow and at this rate it would take them weeks before they reached Whiterun. He studied the path to Whiterun on the Thieves Guild's map realizing that the fastest way there was through the way he had come.
"Where are we going, Alod?" Mjoll asked from beside him. A few light flurries still made their way from above as he contemplated his plan.
"Whiterun," he said simply returning his attention back to the road. He didn't want to have to explain his mission to Mjoll nor did he want to bring up the Thieves Guild not when she still had so much hate for it. The Nord warrior thought that the place was right in terms of hiding from Maven but she doubted that it would be truly safe. Whiterun hold was neutral meaning that both Imperial and Stormcloak soldiers could entrench upon the land. Although the Jarl defiantly disliked it, he couldn't stop it. She could only pray that they didn't run into any war parties, she didn't want to get involved with this stupid Civil war. So, she nodded once before returning her own focus to the lake.
Intending to completely bypass Helgen in order to not remind himself or endanger himself, he decided on going through Riverwood, a small minor settlement in a mountain pass, instead. Hopefully they would reach there in a few days' time.
Well, not with this annoying thing following them.
"Would it be foolish to stop for a while and light a fire?" the wizard asked after climbing on Aerin's horse directly behind the poor man. Flinching when he drove the horse onward, Marcurio realized the uncomfortable state of riding with another person and wished to stop after only about an hour's ride.
Alodie growled deeply and turned to glare at the wizard. Why did this man enjoy aggravating his very soul? Marcurio, seeing Alodie's anger, shrank back as if defending himself from outright battery. "I suppose, it would…" he answered himself though Aerin in front of him sighed.
"I agree, we should stop," he said. Alodie gave him a surprised look before shaking his head. The Riften guard could be out searching for them and instead of moving on and trying to escape the Rift, they were messing around. Mjoll didn't seem to care if they should either way.
"I don't think it would hurt, Alod," she said. "We've all had a rough day." Alodie couldn't believe these people. Half of the town guards were on a manhunt and no one was in the least bit worried? He knew that if he was caught with Mjoll, he would go in prison straight along with her and then who would save her?
He began to protest. "Do you know what they would do if they found you again? They would kill—"
The sound of a released arrow interrupted him, jerking as it hit him from behind. His eyes widened as pain flooded his shoulder, his teeth tightening. He gripped the horse's neck like a life line, the horse moving quickly from its rider's sudden movements. Mjoll's mouth gaped as she reached over to hold Alodie up who was about to fall over. Both Aerin and Marcurio remained speechless.
Through blurry eyes, Alodie saw a dark figure in the trees moving to draw the bow again. Glad that Mjoll was able to hold him steady before he went crashing to the ground, he glared at his attacker in the trees.
Mjoll saw the figure and immediately knew that they had tried to kill Alodie. Another arrow flew by as the dark figure almost twenty meters away fired again at the injured Imperial. She moved him quickly and instead the arrow was sent straight into the lake.
Marcurio, his face now serious, jumped off Aerin's horse lifting his hands to produce a hot branch of fire. The figure, seeing the magicka from behind its target, drew its attention to the new attacker drawing the bow again.
Before the assassin could shoot another arrow, Marcurio's flames became even more solid and burst from his hands like a torrent of water intent to burn the assassin to a crisp. The figure ducked and exposed himself to the road, the trees going up in flames. Seeing the mess he made, Marcurio put the flames out with a single flick of his wrist and ran towards the assassin.
Meanwhile, Mjoll led both her and Alodie's horse away from the road and into the tree line out of the assassin's range. She looked at the black arrow stuck in Alodie's left shoulder blade and cringed at the wound. She got off her horse quickly and went to lift the Imperial off of the white now blood stained horse. He twitched in pain as he was lowered slowly off of the horse.
Knowing that she wouldn't be able to lay him down properly without breaking the arrow, she gazed into Alodie's now dark brown eyes as if asking him. Knowing that she had to, he nodded and braced himself. She bit her lip as she grabbed the end of the arrow and broke the shaft off causing Alodie to howl in pain.
"S-sorry," she muttered nervously. She hoped she hadn't damaged anything else.
The assassin, realizing that it still had a target to kill, ignored the crazy wizard and concentrated on Alodie. Seeing the assassin's break of concentration, Marcurio smiled and sent out a wave of electricity to their attacker. Rolling into the water, the assassin pulled out a few knives throwing them at the powerful wizard. Barely avoiding them, Marcurio smiled as he realized the position of the assassin and prepared for another attack.
"You aren't very smart, are you?" he taunted. The assassin laughed lightly, Marcurio noticing the tail of a Khajiit.
"Burning a forest down isn't my idea of smart," she said – the accent of a Khajiit quite clear. Marcurio, looking down at the depths of Lake Honrich, aimed his next spell at the Khajiit who easily ducked the attack. However, it wasn't in Marcurio's mind to hit the Khajiit assassin in the first place.
The water suddenly lit as if sparked and suddenly the assassin cried out in pain, falling into the small puddle with a thud. He shook his head quickly while Aerin watched on, astounded. "At least I know electricity travels through water you fool," he said before smiling.
Mjoll breathed a quick sigh of relief as she saw the assassin fall before turning her attention back to Alodie. She already set out a bed roll and laid the injured Imperial on it gently. Alod was surprisingly still conscious and flung out a few curses before lying down.
He did not look good, Mjoll summarized. His forehead was clammy and his skin was pale. She had a bad feeling that the arrow had been tipped with poison. Alodie realized that his vision was darkening and knew that he wouldn't stay up for long.
"I knew that this would happen," he muttered softly. Mjoll found his words strange but instead of asking him about it, pushed him softly so that he would lie down.
"I wouldn't talk," she said. Alodie laughed though not for long. He obviously wasn't lucid enough to be speaking. It must have been poison. She searched through her pack to try and find a potion of some sort to combat the toxins until she realized that neither Alodie nor Aerin were alchemists of any kind. But maybe the wizard had something.
Marcurio bent down to the dark armored assassin and realized that she was still alive. Lifting her shoulders, he found a metal symbol of a hand on her hood along with even more daggers in her side pockets. The wizard glanced over his shoulder to see Aerin standing over him motionlessly. He pointed his thumb towards Mjoll and Alodie.
"You might want to go and help your friend," he said. Aerin didn't move.
"She's of the Dark Brotherhood, isn't she?" he said. Marcurio shook his head, smiling.
"I thought that was pretty obvious," he said. The wizard hadn't expected adventure to strike them so suddenly and not in the form of an assassin. He obviously made the right choice of following Alodie and his crew. He did wonder what the other Imperial did to enrage someone but maybe it wasn't his place to ask since the man might not even get out of this alive.
Taking a long rope from one of the packs he had been carrying, he brought the Khajiit over to the makeshift camp Mjoll made and tied the assassin to the tree casting a paralysis spell on her just in case.
Seeing the assassin set Mjoll on edge as she tried to work on Alodie who went from barely conscious to being completely deranged. She decided that she had to do something about the arrow. Alodie's eyes, half closed, suddenly widened as he sat up. Mjoll tried to push the Imperial back down. He collapsed with only a slight push. The wizard came over to help inspect the injured Imperial while Aerin stood nearby.
"He looks poisoned," Marcurio said. Mjoll rolled her eyes.
"Of course he is!" she bellowed. Marcurio flinched visibly as his eyebrows shot up.
"Wow, have some anger issues there?" he asked. Before she could shout anything back at the Imperial, Alodie suddenly bent over and coughed. She suddenly grew serious as she saw the deep red vomit and rushed to Alodie's side checking the arrow. She pulled the tip out softly but felt no protest from Alodie as she took it out. She gave it to the wizard to examine.
"Do you have an antidote for that?" she asked. Marcurio studied the black arrow tip and found that the poison was a rather rare mix of nightshade and nirnroot. He figured that making an antidote would take up most of his alchemical kit. As he was trying to decipher which ingredients he needed, he spotted Mjoll placing her hand above Alodie's wound. A quick light flickered from beneath her fingers before dissipating.
He tried to suppress a laugh. "Was that...some sort of healing spell?"
She turned to glare at the man who sat beside her.
"Shut up, at least I'm doing something," she said. Marcurio rolled his eyes before returning his attention to the arrow. He looked over to Aerin who for some reason avoided the who deal.
"Want to go get me a few buckets of water, kid?" he asked. Aerin sneered at the name and decided he would best be doing something useful.
Mjoll put Alodie on his back and noticed that his eyes were open again, except that they were bright and moved at random intervals. She breathed out; worried that she wouldn't be able to save him. Although the jerk was the cause for her imprisonment, at least he had the honor to help her escape. She would never just let someone like that die.
His eyes suddenly locked onto hers as she wiped his forehead with a wet cloth knowing that it was useless anyway. She stopped looking into his hurt yet… happy eyes? He smiled softly.
"Eiruki…" he muttered. His eyes then fluttered closed into a deep sleep. Mjoll brushed a few strands of hair from his hot forehead and wondered who this Eiruki was. A lover maybe? Her eyes narrowed but she didn't think about it any further. She would ask him later.
End of Part I: Unbound
