If you're every really worried of a necromancer

disturbing the remains of your departed loved one

but don't wish to cremate their remains

Places their final resting place

under the weight of the biggest rock you can find


"So what do we do from here?" Do'Ravier asked curiously.

Sure, the objective given to them was simple enough. They were to go and confirm whether or not the Duke Aaron Budielle was involved with Daedric practices, or if anyone else at the party was for that matter. However, while the the Archon claimed that Duke Budielle fired off plenty of rumors and observed activity, the Vigilant of Stendarr could not pin down any solid leads. They were going in blind but they had little choice. That also left little room to plan. All of this meant they had to go in and simply investigate. They had no clue what to keep an eye out for or who to watch.

"Well, last I checked Sibylla and I have to go in there, look pretty, listen to others and get loose lips to talk." Claudia said, waving herself with the decorative fan she had.

"And us?" Bann-Je inquired.

"To look like servants." Sibylla replied bluntly.

"And last I checked, servants looked busy. Off you go, chop chop." Claudia dismissed with a brushing motion of her hand.

Do'Ravier and Bann-Je looked back with a glance that was somewhere between horrified and dismayed.

"Well, don't keep standing there. You'll blow your cover by not playing the part. Do you want me to have the guards flog you?" Sibylla threatened, also joining in.

"Unbelievable." Do'Ravier grumbled and he and Bann-Je shuffled off.

As Sibylla and Claudia waited for the two to disappear so to create distance between them, the two ladies wondered just how well they were going to fit their parts. Again, Claudia was thinking about several weeks back when she yelled at the Archon that just because her team wore priestly robes did not automatically make them clergy. The same held true for servants clothes and fancy dresses.

They certainly didn't fit well as common people either.

"Remind me to get those two something nice from the tavern when this is all over." Claudia muttered to Sibylla as they continued to walk towards the center of the party.

"Why?" Sibylla asked, folding up her own fan and putting it away. She found the silly thing completely worthless.

"Lets be honest, they do tend to get the butt end of the jobs and Do'Ravier has been through a bit in the past few days." Claudia replied.

"True, but the Khajiit kind of did it to himself." Sibylla answered.

"Well, I have to keep an eye out for all of you." Claudia shrugged.

"Yeah well, for now keep an eye out for anyone doing something shady. I hate how we're going in here blind." Sibylla practically growled under her breath.

Somehow, that was the last thing Claudia heard from her and then both women were inadvertently tossed separate ways from the countless people in the crowd that had been invited. Nobles, merchants, officials, even a few notable commoners had been invited to the ball. Needless to say, despite Claudia doing her best to seek Sibylla out again, she could not for the life of her single out the warrior Nord.

Instead, she abruptly bumped into a familiar High Elf.

"Good evening to you, my lady. Seeing that we're both at the same party, perhaps we could discuss matters of business?" the High Elf's haughty voice hit her ears.

It was Delamar.


Do'Ravier and Bann-Je found themselves being funneled with all the servants who were entering and exiting on particular doorway. It felt like being a piece of driftwood afloat on a river, hopelessly at the mercy of the water's current. The driftwood's helplessness to the river is what they felt over the entire situation.

"This one is unsure over what to do whenever we get to wherever this hallway is leading." Do'Ravier whispered in the more expected, coarse Khajiiti dialect.

"Just go with it." Bann-Je hissed back.

"This one is not trained to 'just go with it.' Do'Ravier prefers having a plan." Do'Ravier grumbled nervously.

"There was never a plan to begin with." Bann-Je growled quietly.

"This one was hoping that would fix itself." Do'Ravier admitted.

"...You planned for the plan to fix itself? That was indeed a bad plan." Bann-Je rolled his eyes.

"This one can see that perfectly clear in hindsight." the Khajiit retorted quietly.

"You better work on your foresight then because you're going to need it." Bann-Je warned.

Apparently, the hallway led to the kitchens.

Bann-Je and Do'Ravier quickly took in the scene before them. The kitchens had become the nerve center for all the staff at the party. Servants hustled to return empty bottles and report on what courses of food needed to be restocked while counterparts hurried to rectify any shortages in wine or courses.

It also appeared that there were other servants who were going deeper into the mansion since they disappeared into hallways that led away from the party.

"Do we split up or stay together?" Bann-Je hissed.

"What?" Do'Ravier asked, unsure.

"We stick together. You are not good at this." Bann-Je replied quickly in annoyance.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Bann-Je." Do'Ravier grumbled.

"Bann-Je is not here. Call me Squints-his-Eye." the Argonian replied cryptically.

Do'Ravier shot the Argonian a look of shock, not quite sure what that was suppose to mean. Bann-Je only bothered to look back, as if wondering why the Khajiit was puzzled with his behavior. Do'Ravier was about to write it off as one of the Bann-Je's eccentricities when he noticed that Bann-Je's usually round pupils had narrowed and become snake like.

Any further observation was cut short from someone yelling at them.


"Many Imperials are not very fond of Thalmor such as myself, especially those who are originally from the Imperial City of Cyrodill. I heard you were born and raised there. So tell me, are my political affiliations going to be a problem for us working together?" Delamar asked bluntly, eyes still scanning Claudia.

Claudia raised a dismissive hand as she stifled a chuckle.

"I have no intentions of making our lives any more difficult than they already are." Claudia replied.

"Oh good. It is certainly a waste of time trying to beat your lessers into submission." Delamar muttered, sipping wine.

"Yes." Claudia replied uncomfortably.

"Our jobs are not completely unalike. You hunt Daedra worshippers, vampires and other misfits of the night. My Justiciars make sure the ban on Talos is enforced." Delamar said

"Correct." Claudia forced herself to say. She felt like she was handling a poisonous snake by the tail and she had no clue whether it intended to strike or remain placent.

"Then tell me why my men draw animosity while your Vigilants of Stendarr remain heroes?" Delamar said smoothly, though Claudia detected the hint of a growl under it.

She would have explained but then she saw a face she could have sworn she recognized. The problem is, she had no clue who that person was. The last time she saw that face, it was in a vision.

A vision from Azura.


"You two, are you just going to stand around there? We have wine that needs to be served! Get your lazy hides over here and get back to work!" A furious Breton cook was yelling.

Do'Ravier stared like someone caught off guard. Bann-Je meanwhile quickly saw an opportunity. The Argonian was the first to move, discreetly slapping the Khajiit's leg with his tail as he move forward to signal Do'Ravier to follow.

"We apologize." Bann-Je murmured quietly as he took the platter of beverages, motioning for a still bewildered Do'Ravier to do the same.

The persona that was Squints-his-Eye was becoming very annoyed with the Khajiit who it saw as a massive liability.

"Go! You've wasted enough time already! Off with you!" the exasperated cook hollered before turning his attention to other things.

"That was scary. We just barely got out of that." Do'Ravier muttered under his breath with a sigh of relief as they walked away.

"Hardly. He practically gave us our way out." Squints-his-Eye grumbled in annoyance.

"Sorry Do'Ravier does not do well with infiltrating. This one does better with more arcane talents." the Khajiit growled discreetly.

"Just focus on our mission and do exactly what I tell you. And keep your wits about you." Bann-Je snapped as they continued walking straight.

He was hoping his mental focus would continue to hold onto his altered ego. Should that fail, they would all be in trouble. The persona that was Bann-Je, holed up into his mental corner, briefly wondered how all of this worked but the now dominant Squints-his-Eye squashed such ponderings.

Wait a minute.

Bann-Je flicked his forked tongue twice in rapid succession while his slit like serpent eyes twitched a moment. Curious, Do'Ravier glanced over at him. The Khajiit felt that his ears and their heightened hearing would do no good. Bann-Je's tongue was for smelling, not hearing.

"What is it?" Do'Ravier asked.

"I smell poison." Bann-Je hissed.

"Smell poison?" Do'Ravier whispered incredulously.

"Yes. It's subtle but very specific, distinctive and rare. I'd pick that poison out from anywhere. It smells like death deliciously mixed with hemlock. Follow me." Bann-Je whispered, following his tongue.

Do'Ravier blinked but otherwise found himself in no position to protest.

Bann-Je did not wander far. The Khajiit and Argonian found themselves nearing a door which Bann-Je discreetly opened while trying to maintain the facade that they actually belonged there. It was not an easy balance to draw. Finding that no one was paying attention to them, both quickly slipped through the door.

"Looks like an storage basement for wine." Do'Ravier observed.

"Hmmm...it's not overpowering. No, it's not spread throughout these bottles. Follow me." Bann-Je murmured to himself.

They crept down to the bottom of the stairs and found themselves on a cold, cobble stone floor. Cold, aged, wooden barrels lined the walls while racks of wine sat in the center of the room. The placed was well maintained, there were no cobwebs and it was clean for a celler. Still, it did not look like it got a lot of traffic.

Bann-Je led through through the shelves of wine. For a brief moment, Do'Ravier was starting to wonder if they would find it at all. That came to a halt when Bann-Je abruptly stopped in front of a wooden box. the Argonian did not spare a moment and quickly lifted the lid.

Within the box was a large, stout green bottle. Do'Ravier could not be sure but it looked like the liquid inside was deep black, looking almost like tar. However, it did not seem to be thick and it probably had the same consistency of water.

"I knew it. Assassins like to call this 'Nocturnal's Tears.' Nocturnal may not be a patron of assassination but she's the Daedra of shadows and they say no poison is darker than this. It's tasteless, easily taking on the consistency and color of whatever drink it is put in. It's slow acting but only a teaspoon is needed to kill a horse." Bann-Je hissed.

"What is the antidote?" Do'Ravier asked urgently.

"There is none. Find Claudia and tell her immediately." Bann-Je ordered.


Sibylla truly hated situations like these. The clothing she wore, while pretty and fancy, certainly did not keep the cold or wind out. It also provided nothing in the way of armor. The dress was long and while slinky, did not allow her a full range of motion. If anything, it also screamed for others to notice her rather than providing camouflage.

She felt more at home wearing her armor.

And then there were the people. Gods, there was too many of them. And they all wanted to talk and chat about senseless things. At first she thought it was almost as bad as the stream of people coming to her for advice in the cathedral. After three people trying to chat her up, she decided it was in fact worst. At least the advice seekers had a purpose in their conversations. These people just had the most inane interests. Who cared what she looked like or how many dresses she owned or the quality of her handmaidens?

The only benefit this party had going for it was the selection of alcohol.

She was probably on her third bottle of mead. She honestly preferred it to be in a tankard but no, these nobles had to have it in the silly stuff. That did not count the wine she also drank just to give it a try. She found it unsatisfactory and went back to the mead.

She had to keep reminding herself that she was in fact on a mission but hey, drinking was part of blending in, right?

"Sibylla! Sibylla!" she heard a voice hiss urgently to her.

The Nord woman turned around to see a vaguely familiar Khajiit.

Oh wait, it was Do'Ravier. She almost did not recognize him in the servant clothes. Also the alcohol probably was not helping. To Oblivion with that idea. Nords did not get drunk, they just drank.

"Sibylla, please tell this one where Claudia is. Do'Ravier has been looking for her, something urgent, but cannot find her." Do'Ravier sputtered, a platter of various spirits in his paws though he was no offering it. Obviously it was there only to help keep up his disguise.

Sibylla found herself browsing through the options of alcohol.

"Sibylla!" Do'Ravier hissed.

"Oh, sorry. No, I have not seen Claudia. Last I saw she was talking to some Thalmor prick." Sibylla murmured.

"Argh!" Do'Ravier growled in frustration before rapidly glancing around, still searching for the Imperial.

"I'm right here, you know. You could probably tell me what's going on, puss." Sibylla reminded, taking the only bottle of mead on the plate.

"Bann-Je found some very potent poison in the basement and he's certain it's going to be used tonight. What should we do?" Do'Ravier asked in nervous distress.

Sibylla almost did a spit take with her alcohol but then remembered that would have been a terrible waste of mead.

"Um, okay, think here, Sibylla." the Nord muttered to herself as she idly scratched her chin. Gods, she hated the curls in her hair.

"Great, we're getting tactical advice from a slightly pickled Nord." Do'Ravier grumbled ruefully.

"Shut it or I'll slap you. Don't give away anything yet. Make sure that poison does not get into any of the food but keep an eye on it. Maybe we can get a lead on who to incriminate if we find someone trying to use it. How did Bann-Je find it in the first place?" Sibylla demanded.

"He sniffed it out." Do'Ravier shrugged.

"Perfect. Have him stake it out or follow the scent. I'll remain here and see if I spot anything suspicious. I'll also inform Claudia if she shows up." Sibylla ordered.

"Got it." Do'Ravier nodded before dashing off to get Bann-Je.

Sibylla decided all that hard work merited another swig of mead.


Claudia had very much Delamar hanging as she went to track down this person. He was a Dark Elf and most of his head was veiled under the hood of a mage. Even then, she was certain that she had seen enough of his face to recognize him. Besides, the circumstances of her identifying him was odd enough. Since when do you recognize people in life from what you saw in dream life?

Doesn't matter. She had to speak to this man.

Claudia tracked him down, standing under an overhead patio with his arms folded in front of his chest. Under the shadow of his hood his molten red eyes searched through the crowds of people. She wondered if he too was up to something and if he was, she was almost certain it had to be something sinister.

Still, it could just be her bias talking. While the man was wearing the robe of a mage, it was expensive looking. He could have been an important mage that was invited to the party.

"Good evening, sir. Enjoying the party?" Claudia greeted, feeling her grasp on her cover starting to slip.

The Dunmer looked up at her and then nodded with a grunt.

Claudia raised an eyebrow at him, finding his response odd. Furthermore, she realized she was becoming frustrated with him. She wanted answers and she wanted them now.

Her following course of actions reflected more of her mad desperation than her usual preference for calm, calculated decisions.

"I'll be completely honest with you first." Claudia announced, though just above a whisper as she drew a small, thin but wickedly sharp stiletto from within the folds of her dress.

"My name is Claudia and I'm a Vigilant of Stendarr. I also think there's more to you than meets the eye, something more Daedric to be exact. Be honest with me, and we can continue to have a civil discussion. Shout or resist and I'll drive this into your throat before you can beg for an interrogation." Claudia hissed.

She had the man in the shadows under a balcony. The stiletto was pressed between her palm and her thumb. Any onlooker would have thought that she had her hand pressed affectionately on the Dark Elf's cheek. In reality, she had its wicked point directly on his throat.

To her initial relief, and also frustration, the Dark Elf remained calm and silent. Still, he hesitated to answer. That was something she was not looking for. She gritted her teeth and considered what her next, amplified threat would be when the Dark Elf suddenly started talking back in a hush tone.

"My name is Furaldur, I am a mage and priest of Peryite, the Daedra lord of order. The reason I am here, however, has little to do with my particular Daedric patron, but rather the machinations of another, more sinister one. Do I have your attention well enough for you to consider lessening your grip on me?" Furaldur asked under an air of quiet confidence.

"Keep talking." Claudia ordered.


Do'Ravier was carefully making his way back to the cellar where he last left Bann-Je. While the Khajiit did not want to give away his distress, and therefore blow his cover, he felt rather helpless without the Argonian. Bann-Je had done plenty of infiltration missions, taking on a false identity and hiding in plain sight. Do'Ravier preferred his cloak and dagger assignments keeping him in the shadows and away from prying eyes.

"Follow me." Do'Ravier heard a hiss.

Startled, Do'Ravier looked over towards the shadow cast by the overhead porch and saw two yellow eyes barely visible in the darkness. Recognizing them to belong to Bann-Je, the Khajiit silently padded over on his bare paws and likewise slipped into the shadows.

Now this was more of his cup of tea.

"What's going on, why aren't you watching the container of poison?" Do'Ravier asked quietly.

"I was camouflaged in the shadows. Someone came in and took the whole bottle. It did not look like one of the other hired servants." Bann-Je replied, leading the Khajiit.

"I don't see him." Do'Ravier murmured, peek over where he imagined Bann-Je's shoulder to be and squinting his reflective eyes.

"I'm following the scent of the poison. I did not want the man to think he was being followed." Bann-Je explained.

"Understood." Do'Ravier whispered, still feeling lost.

He was a battlemage, for Akatosh's sake, not an assassin.

The Khajiit felt himself bump up against Bann-Je who had abruptly, and silently stopped. It was all Do'Ravier could do not to make a noise. For one, Bann-Je did not have the smoothest skin and two, Do'Ravier did find himself caught by surprise.

"What now?" Do'Ravier demanded grumpily.

"Over there." Bann-Je muttered.

The Argonian's sense of smell indicated that whoever carried the bottle of poison had ventured inside a gated enclosure within the Budielle estate. Unfortunately, the enclosure was currently being guarded. From the looks of things, they did not seem to be the standard hired sword either.

The other guards of the estate wore a simple full armor of steel and closed helmets. The plate itself did not look thick but you could mistake them for what they were, armed guards. This one particular guard looked liked something different altogether.

"Judging by the robes, the glint of something shiny even in the shadows, usually indicating an enchantment, and that they are not wearing a full suit of armor, I say that's a spell sword. Or a battle mage. Either way, I'm willing to bet that enchantment she has is being used to detect any unwanted guests who might come in invisibly under magic." Bann-Je whispered.

"A Wood Elf too, so she probably knows what she's doing. Confounded Wood Elves." Do'Ravier grumbled, alluding to a long standing rivalry between Wood Elves and Khajiits.

"I don't think she's spotted us yet, we're probably out of range of her magics. Still...we're going to need help...Get Sibylla. Tell her we need a distraction." Bann-Je ordered.

"Are you sure?" Do'Ravier asked nervously.

"She sees a servant come to her and she'll tell us we're not where were suppose to be. Even then, I bet servants know not to come this far so we'll already be in trouble. Guest, however, don't know that. Go, Do'Ravier." Bann-Je asserted.

Truth be told, they were probably running out of time.

Minutes later, Do'Ravier returned practically leading a slightly tipsy Sibylla. Bann-Je glanced once at the Nord woman and then shot an accusatory glare at Do'Ravier. The Khajiit only shrugged helplessly in reply. Sibylla was blissfully unaware of the non-verbal exchange between the two.

"S-so, what's wrong...guys?" Sibylla slurred.

"She is useless, why didn't you get Claudia instead?" Bann-Je hissed at Do'Ravier.

"One, youtold me to get her, two, this one cannot find Claudia." Do'Ravier snapped back, dropping into his accent as he often did when he was frustrated.

"Hey, I'm not useless. I'm holding this mead a lot better than you two could." Sibylla retorted blearily.

"You'll have to do. Sibylla, do you think you could distract that guard over there?" Bann-Je instructed, realizing he had no other option.

"No problem." Sibylla snickered, cracking her knuckles.

"Sibylla, we need to do this without force. Causing a scene will only draw attention. Find a way to distract her just long enough for us to get past her." Bann-Je scolded.

"Hmmmgggmmphhh..." Sibylla grumbled, clearly disapproving of the parameters but nonetheless trying to come up with a solution.

"Do you think you could do that?" Do'Ravier asked, cautiously.

Without saying a word, Sibylla abruptly and boldly stepped forward, walking a confident path towards the guard.

"Dear Stendarr, what is she doing?" Do'Ravier blathered quietly, surprised by the sudden action.

"I don't know, but Divines preserve us." Bann-Je replied.

The two watched the Nord woman sauntered, as best as her dulled senses allowed, right up to the Wood Elf who was guarding the entrance. Sibylla seemed completely comfortable with the situation as if she had done it hundreds of times before. Do'Ravier and Bann-Je had their hearts in their throats, just barely fighting the urge to scream. It got worse once the two noticed the spell sword spot Sibylla approaching her. The Wood Elf woman was about to tell Sibylla to back away when the unexpected happened.

Before the Wood Elf could shout or even protest, Sibylla reached out, embraced the woman hard and muffled her in a lip lock.

Bann-Je and Do'Ravier stared wide eyed and opened mouth.

"...Oh...my, wait- come on!" Bann-Je hissed, snapping out of his shock and dragging the flabbergasted Khajiit silently through the shadows. A few quiet steps and both of them had walked around and past the two women completely unnoticed. The Argonian and Khajiit paid no attention to the two behind them once they had passed the threshold. They had a mission to continue.

Still, it was shocking nonetheless.


"So, tell me about Peryite." Claudia said, her voice barely above a threat while she put on her best inquisition face.

"Is this an official questioning?" Furaldur asked, despite appearing not to be intimidated.

"Answer the question here, or I'll make sure my next question will be given to you while you're in shackles." Claudia growled.

"Peryite is the Daedra lord of order-"

"Never heard of him." Claudia interrupted, playing at being skeptical.

"His followers are not the hellions who beat other people over the head like Mephala or Mehrunes Dagon. That would not be very orderly now, would it?" Furaldur snapped back.

"Watch your attitude, I don't think you fully understand the situation you are in, Dark Elf." Claudia warned, trying to keep her verbal position.

"Very well, Vigilant. What is to be my fate?" Furaldur asked, backing down.

"You still haven't told me why you're here, and if you tell me that you're here just for the party, Akatosh help me, I'll have the torturer stretch your spine so hard you'll be as tall as a High Elf." Claudia sneered.

"Fine, if you want the truth, the Daedra Azura appeared to me, warning me that I was to be here because of a plot set in motion by Molag Bal. However, when I got here...well, I don't know what to do from here." Furaldur shrugged in defeat.

Claudia blinked. She was a bit rusty on her Daedra. Molag Bal, she remembered, was not a good Daedra. The problem was she was forgetting the details, she only recalled that he liked to break things but that description could be used for a lot of the Daedra.

"Though something tells me Azura has spoken to you too, Imperial." Furaldur charged.

It was all Claudia could do to keep her composure.

"Absolutely not." Claudia snapped.

"Suit yourself. I'm at least trying to be honest." Furaldur shrugged.

"Hardly. Azura gave you a vision to come here but no further instructions? Do you take me for a fool? What are you really here for?" Claudia pressed.

"I wish I knew. The Daedra do not always work in the ways we expect them to." the Dark Elf admitted.


The Khajiit and Argonian found themselves in shadowed passageways and halls onced they made it past the guarded enclosure. Bann-Je was busy following the scent, Do'Ravier keeping close behind him. They only saw one or two shadowy figures off in the distance and by keeping still in the darkness, they were able to otherwise evade any who would see them. Nonetheless, Do'Ravier was becoming more uncomfortable the deeper the infiltrated the compound.

It seemed to be going on forever. Especially at the slow and cautious rate they were creeping.

"It's getting stronger...we're almost there." Bann-Je whispered, sensing his comrade's discomfort.

Suddenly, both their eyes went wide as they saw a large procession coming towards them. Both of them flattened against the wall, deep in the shadows and squinted so that they only had a sliver for their vision lest their reflective eyes give them away. They heard the group of people walk past, some twenty of them, scarcely a stone's throw from they were huddled against the wall. Once they sensed the group had passed, Bann-Je pattered forward with renewed energy. Do'Ravier decided they were closing in on their target.

The two entered a darkened room illuminated only by two small candles and the moonlight from outside. While there eyes worked better in the dim light compared to their human counterparts, it still took awhile for them to gather in their surroundings. Both were immediately drawn to two different things in the room. Bann-Je glared at something in the corner of the room, Do'Ravier cast his gaze on a book that was between the two candles.

"We're running out of time. That group out there, they were bringing the poison." Bann-Je said darkly.

In the corner were discarded bottles of wine and the empty bottle of poison.

"And whatever it's about...it is not pretty." Do'Ravier replied, showing Bann-Je the book.

The page was inscribed with outlandish runes and eerie glyphs but the picture, marked in blood red ink, seemed very much to point towards a sinister ritual.


"I have been as honest as I can be with you, woman. Are you being honest with me?" Furaldur snapped.

"Watch your tone, Elf." Claudia growled.

Nonetheless, a ball of ice formed in Claudia's chest as she felt that she had somehow given away something. Had she hesitated for a moment? Darn it, she was having a hard time getting all of this together.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, hear me, hear me! I propose a toast!" a voice called somewhere out towards the courtyard. Instinctively, Claudia looked over to see the Noble Budielle was standing at the center of a overhead porch, arms raised high to gather everyone's attention. Claudia was about to step forward when she remembered Furaldur.

Looking over, she saw that he had disappeared.

Claudia balled her first and ground her teeth, silently seething that she had made such a basic mistake. The woman abruptly had to put on her diplomatic face when a fancy dressed servant handed her a glass of wine. Budielle was going to be proposing a toast so she had to play the part, not that of an angry Vigilant blowing her lead.

Budielle was speaking again.

"Gather round, gather round! I hope you are all enjoying this evening, but first, I believe we should be welcoming the new guest to our city, our esteemed Thalmor allies. May the peace continue between our people!" Budielle called, motioning over to where Delamar was standing.

The Thalmor nodded his head in proud acknowledgment.

Budielle raised his glass and opened his mouth to continue.

"And so, to you fair people of Wayrest, I-"

"Wait, wait!" a heavily accented voice called out.

A Khajiit barged and bumped right into the middle of the crowd without a shred of grace. Once enough people seemed to be paying attention to him and rather than Budielle, the Khajiit raised an empty bottle aloft.

"This one seems to have found a bottle with a rather nasty skull and cross bones symbol on it. It's empty. Probably not good if this accidentally got into anyone's drink, no?" the Khajiit called.

Wide eyed upon recognizing Do'Ravier, Claudia immediately and discreetly emptied her wine glass into the nearby bushes.

Enraged and thrown off, Budielle hesitated a moment before gathering himself.

"Guards, guards! Arrest this upstart for his tasteless prank!" the noble shouted.

Armed soldiers immediately started approaching from the peripherals of the party. Do'Ravier looked around, noting where each of them were before raising his paws into the air and then violently bringing them back down.

Telekinetic magics furiously latched onto their armor and slammed the guards onto the floor, dazed and stunned but more importantly, driving their weapons out of their reach. Judging himself momentarily safe, Do'Ravier produced the sinister book he and Bann-Je found before pointing an accusatory finger at Budielle. His voice no longer held the accent.

"The Vigilant of Stendarr have found you!" Do'Ravier shouted.

His eyes blazing, Budielle fumingly decided he was caught. Budielle was a proud man and this ritual was only suppose to go one way. There was no way it could work now, not with those fools too concerned to drink the wine. Besides, what was the point now?

"You are all fools! Do you think any peace can be had between the Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion? Yes, you were all to be a sacrifice, an acceptable loss and maybe then Boethiah, the Prince of plots would have considered my petition to overthrow those contemptible Thalmor!" Budielle roared.

Delamar dropped his glass, his hand shaking in rage.

"But no, you're just going to continue to live your delusion that the peace will hold, go pray to your Divines when the blood is being shed again, at least the Daedra get things done!" Budielle shouted.

Suddenly, Wayrest guards and knights were arriving within the compound, Archon Tacitus at their head.

"On order of the captain of the watch, the king of High Rock and the authority of the Vigilants of Stendarr, surrender yourself Budielle and no one will be harmed." Archon Tacitus announced,

A bleary Sibylla was mastering the ability to stand in place right behind the Archon, having summoned them earlier. She had found the energy, and concentration, to rush back to a waiting messenger outside the estate. All that mattered after that was leading them to the right place.

Gazing angrily down at the guards and the Archon, Budielle reached over to a nearby table and raised a glass of wine to his lips.

"NO!" Do'Ravier shouted.

Like an unstoppable shadow, Bann-Je was pushing others aside from deep in the crowd, storming his way over to the front of the porch, knowing that it would take too much time to take the side stairs. Undeterred, the Argonian launched himself with his powerful legs and grabbed onto the columns, hauling himself up towards the floor Budielle was standing on.

Defiant, the noble had already drained the glass. His face immediately turned purple, his lips steadily darkening in blue as he coughed and gasped. The dying man was coughing violently over the railing before his legs gave out under him and he collapsed upon the railing.

Halfway up, Bann-Je stopped in his tracks, realizing it was futile to hurry at this point. He noticed a trail of blood starting to rain down from the ceiling, blood darkened by the poison, the last symptom of the deadly venom.