Ulfric Stormcloak's reaction to Runael's assumption that the Stormcloaks had been compromised was not quite what she'd been expecting.
It was worse.
"Every last man and woman in my army," he was roaring, "is loyal! To stand there and tell me that one of them has likely turned traitor for seemingly absolutely no gain whatsoever is ludicrous!"
Runael had felt the power of the Voice before in previous arguments, always washing over her figure and making her tremble. This, however... while it was no proper Shout, she still felt his voice shake her to her very core, embed no small amount of fear in her.
She dearly wished she was alone; if she were, she could probably diffuse the situation before it escalated any further than shouting at her.
Unfortunately for Runael's nerves, which were already frayed by his outrage, Elsera and Adalla were both quite vocal in defending her - which, in turn, only served to incense the High King of Skyrim even further. He had already threatened to have them thrown in prison indefinitely for speaking against him.
"I am simply telling you what I suspect," Runael began, as calmly as her unnerved state could manage. "I'm not saying it's true, only that-"
"You fought alongside them!" he snapped angrily. "And now you would dare suspect them of-"
"I take no particular joy in it, but what other explanation could there possibly be?!" she retorted. "Think, Ulfric! Who else knew of this before I departed? Who else could possibly have spread the word to someone else?"
His eyes snapped instantly to Elsera, Adalla and Mia. Runael fully understood why.
"No," she growled. "Elsera has been with me ever since I returned to the College, and I didn't inform Mia or Adalla about these developments until after we met in person once more."
"You asked me who else knew of it," he snapped. "There is my answer, elf."
She bristled at the tone he used when saying the word 'elf'. She knew full well his disdain of elves, and that exceptions to this disdain were exceedingly rare. For him to take such a tone with her... her, who had advised him, fought alongside him, and been quite a boon over the past several years... She made a mental note that no matter how much respect she may garner from the High King, she would likely never have all of it. In his eyes, she was still one of the mer.
He noticed she bristled at the tonr, and his expression softened ever-so-slightly. For a moment, she thought his anger passed, and that he'd now be receptive to more sensible considerations of all the facts, as well as any other speculation.
Of course, she was reminded once again that she was not alone.
"How dare you take that tone with her," Elsera growled, hands balling into fists. "She has done much, sacrificed everything in her past so as to be of help to you, and taking that tone with her is your way of thanking her? You-"
"You, little elf," he sneered, his temper flaring notably but not affecting his voice much anymore, "ought to watch your tongue. You do not share the same leniency I give your precious little Arch-Mage, and you would do well to remember that."
Elsera opened her mouth to shoot a reply back, but closed it when a hand clapped her shoulder firmly. Another hand clapped upon Adalla's shoulder, who was similarly preparing to retort in the Dunmer's defense.
"Oy," Mia said softly. "That's enough outta ya both, aye? At this rate, yer only gonna get yerselves tossed in them cramped little cells. Do everyone a favor and step outside for a bit, get some fresh air."
"Mia-" Adalla began, but the Altmer fell silent at the stern look from her Akaviri partner.
"Just go," came the reply, just as stern as her expression. Adalla needed no further prompting, and she guided Elsera outside, casting withering glances over her shoulder at Ulfric.
"Thank you, Mia," Runael murmured once both elves were outside.
"Mm." Mia crossed her arms and turned her attention to Ulfric. "I got a question, Yer Majesty, if ya don't mind me bein' so bold as t'ask."
He quirked a brow, as did Runael; Mia had never really been one to ask questions of anyone in an authoritative position - especially not the High King of Skyrim. Nonetheless, he wordlessly gestured her to continue.
"What all have yer scouts reported on them bandits and their movements? Have we got anythin' t'work with, like where they coulda gone from Rorikstead?"
"This is the first I've heard of the bandits abandoning Rorikstead," he said with a weary sigh. He sat down upon his throne and leaned back. "If my scouts have any such information, it hasn't reached me yet."
"Fair enough," she responded.
"You're getting at something," Runael murmured.
"It may be a bit of a stretch," the Akaviri woman began, "but what if bandits got bold and ambushed one'a yer scouts, found information about this-"
"I told none outside of Runael and Galmar," he interrupted, "so it's impossible that they were carrying correspondence regarding the plan to retake Rorikstead. Unless she sent couriers abroad that could have been intercepted, I find it difficult to believe. You are grasping at straws."
"There's only one other possible explanation, 'en." With that, Mia turned to depart, and got as far as the door before she turned her head to speak once more. "Some higher power warned 'em and they got the slip." With that, she was gone.
Both Ulfric and Runael scoffed simultaneously at the concept.
"A god, sympathizing with bandits?" Ulfric grumbled.
"Perhaps, in such a case, it's more so the fact that there's a greater plan, and this bandit leader's part of it." Runael didn't like the thought of possible divine intervention keeping this bandit leader from justice. "If it's not a Stormcloak traitor, there's very little else that explains it."
The High King was silent for quite some time. Runael recognized the expression on his face, though; emotions conflicting beneath the surface.
"How likely do you think it is that one of my soldiers has allied with the bandits?" he finally asked, voice low so as not to be overheard by anyone else nearby.
"Honestly? Very likely. I don't like the thought of it any more than you, Ulfric, but..." She watched him pinch the bridge of his nose, watched his brow furrow in thought.
"Then here's what shall be done..." he began slowly, lowering his hand and affixing Runael with a stern look.
Neria had always prided herself on being a bit sharper-eyed than most men and, in some cases, mer. It had allowed her to spot traps and other potentially fatal situations in more than one abandoned fort or cavern, and had constantly served her well when it came to identifying other out-of-place things.
She had chosen to send a letter to Ulfric from Riften - not because Shor's Stone was occupied, but because she saw no point in letting his Stormcloaks pick up the trail she'd found, not when she knew what she was looking for.
It had been difficult to see the bloodstains spattering the ground to the south of the town and leading west-southwest, into the hills, but Neria had spotted them. She'd included the bloodstains in her report, as well as a description of the ghost town that Shor's Stone had become. Just like Darkwater Crossing, it appeared as if a fight had broken out; there were clear marks where a blade or other heavy weapons had been slammed into the ground or into the sides of buildings, and there were scorch marks here and there, as well. The mine was abandoned, save for a couple spiders that appeared to have moved in recently, if the very sparse cobwebs were any indicator.
All of the doors to each home were unlocked, which either meant that the owners had been taken directly from their homes while they were inside, or the locks were picked and the trespasser simply didn't lock the door when they'd left. Poking around inside a couple of the homes revealed that the former was likely; there were signs of a scuffle in one of the homes.
Still, unlike Darkwater Crossing, Shor's Stone had the blood trail to work with. Neria was not going to let this opportunity go to waste; she suspected Ulfric would want her to follow it anyway because if it led to danger, better her than his precious soldiers.
It had led to a couple caves, far to the west of the Rift. Even then, the blood trail didn't stop; she surmised that it was likely they had ducked inside the caves, possibly for an evening or to get out of inclement weather.
One such storm forced Neria to take refuge in a cavern for the evening. By the next morning, the storm had passed, and when she had stepped outside to find the blood trail again, she was disheartened to find that the storm had washed it away. The last she'd checked her map, she was well south of the town of Ivarstead, near a winding mountain pass. She had a rough idea as to where she was... but she wasn't positive. Rather than lose her head over it, Neria had chosen instead to continue westward; she had a suspicion that wherever this injured individual was going, it was a bit further west.
She felt hope spring anew when she caught sight of a faint blood trail on snow through the pass, almost buried beneath what seemed to be a relatively fresh layer of powder. She had no way of knowing whether or not it was the same trail she'd been following from Shor's Stone, but she decided there was no true harm in following it.
This trail had led her into the much milder Falkreath Hold and disappeared inside of a cave; unlike the past couple of caves, however, the trail did not duck out again. This cavern had been the end destination, then. She had delved a bit deeper in, but found little to no sign that there was anyone actually in it.
At least, not until she'd chanced upon what appeared to be recently dug tunnels. She carefully followed one such path, Dawnbreaker in hand, to see where it led.
The Dwemer ruin that greeted her left her stunned and speechless. She'd never seen a Dwemer ruin before, only heard of them or read about them in a couple books; 'Ruins of Kemel-Ze' came to mind almost instantly. As much as she longed to explore it a bit further, she knew she was ill-prepared for an extended search; if the book had been any sort of indicator, she would likely find danger within, and she wanted to be ready for it. With that in mind, she had returned to Falkreath to begin preparing for her journey into the ruin.
"I've been looking for you." The voice of the young male Nord made her jump a bit as she stepped out of the Dead Man's Drink.
"Got something you're supposed to deliver?" she mused. The Nord chuckled quietly and wordlessly extended a letter to her.
"Your hands only," he remarked before walking away, his job clearly finished. She watched him go for a time, then broke the seal on the letter, unfolded it, and began to read it.
Neria,
The next time I give you an order, I expect you to carry it out exactly as I requested, and not take matters into your own hands.
I want you to make your way back to Windhelm the moment you receive this letter. Whatever you may have found will be discussed once you arrive at the Palace of the Kings.
-Ulfric Stormcloak
High King of Skyrim
Her lips were pursed as she folded the letter. Just like that, he had ruined her relatively good mood. She'd been excited to explore the Dwemer ruin deep within the cavern, and now he wanted her to travel all the way back to Windhelm. She decided to comply; there was no benefit to be had from defying the High King. She wasn't even sure what she would be looking for in the Dwemer ruin; she feared she'd lose focus of her initial investigation while examining the wonders of the dwarves. With her new directive given, she instead began preparing herself for a trip to Whiterun; from there, she would take a carriage back to Windhelm. All the walking she'd done over the past several days had not been kind to her feet.
"How in Oblivion did you find me?" Larian asked, eye twitching as she stared at Derrick. His only response had been to point skyward - a silent answer she'd witnessed before. It brought a scowl to her face. "Of course," she muttered bitterly.
"We breached the Dwemer ruin," the Imperial said. "I found the magical emanations Vile sought. And what of you, Larian? Had any luck here in Labyrinthian?" He smirked a little as she gave him an exasperated look that all but said 'are you serious?'.
Of course she hadn't had any luck. She'd been unable to get inside Labyrinthian when she'd arrived, and could not find any means of breaching the massive doors that barred her way. They had been sealed somehow, and nothing she tried could get her through. The tumult of her efforts had drawn the ire of the resident frost trolls, however, and she'd been forced to kill all of them. It hadn't been difficult - she'd had prior experience fighting and killing their ilk, and knew that her best means of defeating them was to step in so her attack would connect, then backpedal once her attack had struck. It was tiring, but the best way she had, and more to the point, it worked.
"Wipe that smirk off your face, Derrick," she snapped. "You'll find yourself in quite a similar situation as I, once you fail to breach Labyrinthian yourself." She gestured in the direction of the massive doors, from inside the small barrow with a well-worn plinth inside of it. The plinth had been of interest to her - eight bust-like shapes, with a dragon's skull carving in the center of it - but not enough interest for her to investigate it any further. "Seeing whereas you are constantly in contact with him, you'll probably have it worse than me."
"I may actually be better off because of that," he replied smoothly. "I can ask him how to get inside, and if he knows, he'll tell me." She cursed inwardly at the truth behind his words. "I'll admit, though, I'm surprised you're still here. I thought you'd have given up and run off to stay in one of the other bandit hideouts."
"You don't know me," she growled. "So don't even pretend like you know what I'd do in a given situation." She stepped out of the ancient barrow and into the biting winds of Skyrim once more, and the crunching of snow behind her told her Derrick was following her. "Nadine?"
"She was one of the captured," he replied.
"I don't follow." She glanced at him over her shoulder.
"Falmer, deep in the ruin. Most of the miners were killed, but a few were captured. Nadine was one of the captured."
"And it didn't occur to you to save her?"
"If I'd tried, word of our success in Falkreath would never have reached you," he said simply. She hated him for abandoning her friend, but knew his words were true. "Which do you value more: a friend, or information to help you advance a task you've been given?"
The way he worded the question made it obvious as to his stance. She longed to reply 'a friend', but held her tongue altogether. Now was not the time to get into an argument over something so trivial, at least in the grand scheme of things. She could only hope Nadine could rescue herself, since Larian was unable to come to her rescue instead.
"According to Vile," he continued, "the Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold was the last person to visit Labyrinthian."
"I heard about that when it was news," she grumbled. "You tell me nothing I don't already know."
"Then you aren't connecting the dots. She was the last person to visit the ruin. The ruin has been sealed since then." When she turned her head to face him, she noticed he was staring pointedly at her, as if waiting for her to arrive at the same conclusion he had.
"She's the one that sealed it," she said flatly. Of course she'd connected the dots the second he mentioned the Arch-Mage. "That doesn't change the fact that we have no idea where to find her."
"True, but perhaps the key to unsealing Labyrinthian lies within the College itself."
She knew instantly what he was getting at, and she chuckled bitterly at the mere thought.
"You don't approve?" he quipped.
"Darkwater Crossing and Shor's Stone, Derrick, were easy enough for us," she said, still chuckling lightly. "But assaulting the College of Winterhold, trying to find something that may or may not actually be there? You have a death wish, and that wish seems to be 'death by wizard'."
"At what point did I say anything about assaulting the College?" he responded with that condescending smirk. "It might be easiest if, say, one of us could infiltrate it..."
She just stared at him. Much as she hated to admit it, he had a point there. That left the matter of actually succeeding in that.
"You go to the College and infiltrate it," she finally said. "You're the one with an interest in magic. I, on the other hand, will go to Vile's shrine and have some words with him."
He quirked a brow at this, but nodded all the same. He turned to leave.
"And Derrick?" Her arms were crossed as he turned his head to face her once more. "No matter what may happen, I still hate you. You know this, right?" The line brought that insufferable smirk back to his lips.
"Oh, I know. And the feeling is mutual, Larian Ravell." With the sharp reply delivered, he chose that moment to leave. Larian, in turn, turned to the direction of Morthal. It was the closest location to her where she could find food and other supplies, and she'd need them for the trip.
A.N. - Alright, so first of all, I know this chapter is a couple days late. It's late because I wasn't sure if it was good as it was on Monday, so I re-read it with the intent of making some adjustments.
Not much changed, really. The three key points were present - Ulfric's outrage, Neria's discovery of the Dwemer ruin that Derrick unearthed, and the 'brick wall' Larian hit - and there wasn't much else I could change without massively affecting the chapter's content. I still kind of feel like there's definite room for improvement, but... at this rate, the only way it'll 'improve' is with a massive rewrite.
Ulfric and Runael are friends, but even friends argue. I feel like this particular argument drove that point home and serves as a reminder (mostly to me) that Ulfric may like, respect and trust Runael, but they aren't 'best buddies forever'. That said, I do feel like I could have written him angrier... but the only way I saw that working was if he then became violent with his movements - drawing an axe, threatening to hit someone with a fist... that sort of thing. I didn't want a flat-out fight to break out, so I had to rein it in.
Neria's the first to discover the ruin, after Derrick and the unfortunate miners. She has no idea just how important/dangerous it really is, though... she will soon. (Spoilers? Nah; that's not saying too much.) She may come across as more of an investigator than a knight, but some of her past employment has... well, I should really cover that in a future chapter. ^^;
Shortly after I published Larian's fight near Labyrinthian, it dawned on me; she has no means of identifying magical energies herself, and yet she's there alone? I had a game plan for that, but this route was a little more entertaining - if not right now, then because of what's to come because of this route. Besides, the interactions between Larian and Derrick are still so fun to write.
I'm hoping to be on schedule next week with the next chapter. It's not done yet, unfortunately, but I've got time a-plenty for the rest of this week.
-Spiritslayer