Neria's meeting with Ulfric had gone more or less as she'd expected. He seemed quite dismissive of her thoughts and concerns, and after her initial meeting with him, she'd been better prepared to face him. When she'd told him more about Shor's Stone and the Dwemer ruin in the cave, he dismissed the notion altogether, telling her instead that she was to remain in Windhelm until further notice. This more than aggravated her, but she'd reined in her emotions and begrudgingly told him she wouldn't head for the Dwemer ruin.
This, of course, left her available to explore the tomb of Curalmil while she waited to hear from Ulfric. Her foray was quite eventful; eradicating the draugr contained within had been quite simple, owing to Dawnbreaker's powerful enchantment. Locating the Phial itself was not particularly simple; it had taken her a while to realize that the horrid-smelling liquid was to be poured into the ceremonial bowl, but once she'd realized it, she breathed a sigh of relief - having worried she'd need to drink the foul-smelling mixture. Once she found the Phial, though, she wondered how it could have possibly cracked; an attempt to store some water within it resulted in nothing happening, save for the water dribbling out of the crack and confirming her fear that it was too damaged to be of use.
Nonetheless, she'd returned it to Nurelion and notified him that it had been damaged when she found it. Nurelion was ultimately grateful to have it, but not enough to express it properly; Quintis, on the other hand, was far more grateful.
The entire ordeal had left Neria feeling as though she needed a drink, and so she set off for Candlehearth Hall.
That had been the plan, anyway - until one of the Stormcloaks had stopped her and told her she was to report to the Palace of the Kings. He had been rather insistent, too, telling her that no, she could not get a drink before she met with the High King.
Thus, sober and irritated, Neria entered the Palace of the Kings. She thought she'd have to exercise extreme calm because of her present mood. The spectacle that greeted her took her mind off of it.
"Tell me why, again, you have called all of our scouts back to Windhelm?" It was the gruff growling voice she'd heard once before...
"To prove a point, Galmar," came Ulfric's relatively calm - if annoyed - reply.
"At the recommendation of an elf?" the other Nord growled.
"I am standing right here, Galmar." The voice was that of a female elf, though she wasn't in view. As Neria slowly approached, however, a high elf stepped into the great hall from the war room; she had long pale blonde hair hanging loosely about her shoulders, emerald-colored eyes... and she wore a robe that Neria had never seen before. "You could at least use my name. And he's not doing this because I suggested it - seeing whereas I never did."
"You put it in his mind that our soldiers have been compromised," Galmar snapped, turning to the high elf. "The best way for any leader to find out for certain is-"
Neria, recognizing the makings of a very heated argument and possible scuffle, chose that moment to clear her throat. Galmar, Ulfric and the high elf all turned their heads to face her; Galmar's mouth was wide open, having formerly been in the middle of a retort.
"When I tell you to remain in Windhelm, that does not mean 'go traipsing around Skyrim'," Ulfric growled. His expression had initially been one of confusion, but once recognition had set in, it became one of disapproval, accompanied by a scowl.
"I was not 'traipsing around Skyrim', I was retrieving something for Nurelion - as I'd agreed to do before you sent me off to Shor's Stone," Neria replied coolly. "The ruin I had to venture through was, at most, a day's walk from here." Galmar cleared his throat and crossed his arms, prompting Neria to sigh. "Your Majesty."
"The fact that you left Windhelm in the first place is what troubles me most," Ulfric began.
"So you're the one who found the Dwemer ruin?" the high elf commented, a brow raised. Ulfric and Galmar both looked annoyed that the elf had changed the subject, but Neria was grateful and nodded. "And you didn't investigate-"
"I was poorly supplied for such," she replied with a shake of her head. "I made plans to investigate after I stocked up in Falkreath, but then I got his message." She gestured to Ulfric. "I've been in the area since then, so no, I haven't investigated it yet."
"Fair enough." The elf looked at Ulfric, and it was at that moment that the oddity struck Neria. Why was there an elf anywhere in the Palace of the Kings, and why did the High King not seem to mind her presence?
"Who are you?" Neria asked, her curiosity no longer containable.
"Runael, this is Neria, the Breton knight who helped save Helgen and investigated Shor's Stone," Ulfric said with a heavy sigh, as if resigning himself to the fact that he'd never get to finish chastising Neria. "Neria, this is Runael, the Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold."
Learning the identity of the high elf made Neria's eyes widen, and her jaw dropped.
"Oh, please," Runael said, noting Neria's expression with an amused look of her own. "I'm hardly that famous-"
"Elsath mentioned you!" Neria exclaimed. "He said that if I needed anything, then-" Mentioning her employer made Runael's eyes widen in recognition and realization, and for a moment, they simply stood there, staring at each other.
"And... how is he?" Runael asked tentatively.
"Last I knew, as of... three years ago, I believe it was," Neria began, "he was well. I haven't been in High Rock for quite some time now... Though he did wonder why you don't keep in touch..."
"Oh..." Runael gestured about with a light sigh and a smile. "You know. Life in Skyrim, magical anomalies to look into, bandits plaguing the land, this so-called 'Queen of Skyrim' rumor..."
"'Queen of'...?" Neria looked confused, and turned her attention back to Ulfric for an explanation. "But... you're not married, Your Majesty... are you?"
"No, I'm not," he responded with a nod. "Which makes this even more troublesome. Runael's... associates found and took prisoner a bandit who was separated from his comrades; he had a note alluding to a 'true Queen of Skyrim', and it proclaimed that I was just a pretender, holding the throne for her." He shrugged it off. "A lot of nonsense. I've not had any opposition for the throne since I claimed it."
"Ulfric mentioned," Runael began slowly, "that you found traces of conflict at Darkwater Crossing and Shor's Stone. Both Ulfric and Galmar suspect bandits had a hand in that, though the former more so than the latter. What impression did you get, looking at it for yourself?"
"It was... well, to call it 'planned out' is an overstatement," Neria began slowly. "At Darkwater Crossing in particular, it looks like someone just went in swinging; it was a little more restrained at Shor's Stone, meaning maybe they had an idea as to how to approach the matter, but they were sloppy with the end result. There was a blood trail to follow at Shor's Stone, but not at Darkwater Crossing."
"Bandits took Rorikstead almost a month ago," Runael commented. "Judging from your lack of reaction, you knew about this."
"Galmar mentioned it," Neria said with a nod. "Before I set off for Shor's Stone. They also tried to take Helgen, but I was there to help repel them." She paused for a moment. "You don't think that bandits...?"
"They've become bold in recent months," Ulfric intoned. "Attacking a town or village was not unheard of in the past... but seizing the town? Taking every last resident away, or hiding the bodies of those they killed? There's someone leading the bandits of Skyrim, or so the three of us believe."
"...So why take Rorikstead?" Neria murmured, crossing her arms and tapping her chin with one gauntlet-clad hand.
"Supplies," Runael responded. "They had no other real interest in Rorikstead; if they've started kidnapping people, then something changed after they left Rorikstead, but before they visited Darkwater Crossing. We tried to catch the leader off-guard at Rorikstead, but all of the bandits were gone before we got there... as if someone had given them warning."
"And..." Neria was slowly starting to piece together what the earlier argument had been about.
"Runael thinks it's one of our soldiers that tipped the bandits off," Galmar growled, casting a glare at the high elf. "Ulfric has called our scouts back so there are no soldiers whatsoever on the roads between cities that could possibly be captured or relay messages to the bandits."
"If she's right, then we'll figure it out soon," Ulfric responded; his expression was dark, and he was glowering at Runael. Neria surmised that this had been an extremely touchy topic beforehand. "If not, she'll be made to answer for effectively cutting me off from the rest of Skyrim for even a brief while."
"And in the meantime," Runael began, "I'm going to look into some things. According to your report, that Dwemer ruin has some importance to the bandits, if they took miners captive and forced them to dig out the entrance to it. That, in turn, brings me to this. You and I, Neria, will investigate the Dwemer ruin together and see what we can find that caught the bandits' attention."
"Runael," Ulfric began, but he just stared at her as she lifted a hand to cut him off.
"You were going to send her to the ruin anyway," the high elf said simply. "I see no reason not to join her; it's almost like you're traveling with her, in this way, except you're far too important to Skyrim to go... how did you put it earlier...? 'Traipsing around Skyrim'?"
Neria made a mental note that she quite liked Runael - if not for her overall kind air, then for the fact that she could almost swear the high elf had just subtly mocked Ulfric Stormcloak, the High King of Skyrim. The subtlety was not lost on Ulfric, who scoffed at the words; to Neria's surprise, however, he gave a slow nod, presumably approving Runael's logic.
"Mia, Adalla and Elsera will be joining us, of course," Runael added. "Five sets of eyes are better than two, after all, and the experience Adalla and Mia in particular have with Dwemer ruins will be invaluable."
"Haven't you ventured into one?" Galmar grumbled.
"That was just once," the high elf remarked. "As opposed to the several those two have visited together; Mia has seen several more on her own."
"Whatever you find," Ulfric began, "I want you report it to me. Bring it with you if you can carry it, or describe it as best you can if not. I refuse to believe that the bandits just dug out a Dwemer ruin for the sake of casual exploration. There's something of importance to them in that ruin, and I want to-"
The doors to the Palace burst open without warning, interrupting him. A ragged soldier ran inside; his blue sash looked as if it had been slashed at several times at random angles, and there were bloodstains upon the fabric. Neria instantly had a bad feeling about this, and could only hope Windhelm hadn't come under attack.
"Sire!" the soldier gasped out. "Bandits... Winterhold... couldn't..." Neria heard Runael inhale sharply, and a quick glance showed equal parts anger and horror upon the high elf's face.
"Breathe, soldier," Ulfric said, standing slowly and gesturing him closer. Once the soldier was nearer and his breathing had evened out, Ulfric nodded. "Now, what's this about bandits and Winterhold?"
"Bandits have attacked Winterhold," the soldier said grimly. "Unsurprisingly, their target was the College."
In an instant, Runael closed the distance with the soldier and grabbed his shoulders. Neria recalled she was the Arch-Mage, so this news was of dire importance to her.
"Runael!" Ulfric warned. The high elf didn't so much as flinch at his words.
"What were they after?" she growled in a tone that bespoke her fury.
"W-we don't know," the soldier responded meekly. "Th-they made for the Arch-Mage's Quarters, though, after they broke down the gate that bars entry to..."
"That's no mean feat," Runael murmured, concern now mixing with the other emotions upon her face. "That gate was enchanted to..." She lowered her hands from his shoulders. "What happened to the staff and students? What became of these idiot bandits?"
"Some of the bandits died in the fight," he responded, "but most escaped. One of them, wearing a black robe... I heard him shout 'we have the key', but... I-I saw nothing like a key."
"I'm sure he stuffed it in a pocket or something," Galmar remarked dryly.
"H-he was carrying something, though... he waved it above his head. I-it looked... sort of like a horseshoe, but far bigger, more circular, and-"
Runael inhaled sharply again, and took a step back. All eyes were on her, and Neria had her first glimpse of a high elf whose face had drained of all color.
"Ru-" Ulfric began.
"Labyrinthian," she whispered. "He took the torc... to Labyrinthian...? But why...?"
"What are you neglecting to tell me?" Larian stood, arms crossed, at the base of the shine to Clavicus Vile. The Daedric Prince remained silent, however. She was not pleased that he was most likely ignoring her. "Fine, stay silent. It's not like you really need me to help find magical energy anyway, so maybe I'll just cut ties with you, find some random guy, bend over, and let him-"
"Ugh... too much information, mortal," came an annoyed grumble, in the unmistakably haughty and arrogant voice of Clavicus Vile.
"It got you to talk, so not quite." She stepped closer to the shrine. "My question remains."
"I've told you all you need to know."
"Horseshit," she snapped. "Some bastard tried to kill me on the way to Labyrinthian, and he summoned some massive creature I've never seen before to help him. He told me that he had to kill me because I was helping you."
"So vulgar," Vile mused.
"I am not amused, Clavicus Vile," Larian retorted. "Either you tell me what you need my help with, or I cut ties with you, kill Derrick, and leave you without help from anyone."
"And your heart's desire?" he inquired.
"I've lived this long without it," she growled. "I'll manage somehow for the rest of my life." When he didn't reply right away, she knew he was weighing the pros and cons to her abandoning him.
"Alright, fine. Ask away." He sounded as if he was resigning himself to the matter; apparently, he failed to find any pros in the situation she'd outlined.
"Why do you need magical energy in a Dwemer ruin and Labyrinthian?" She was not going to let this opportunity pass her by; she would get all the answers she needed.
"Because once I have it, I can start to have some fun. It's awfully boring on my end, I'll have you know; typically, I'd send a mortal out to fetch something and bring it to me, but I think a lot of energy will be more fun than any weapon or anything else of the like."
"What sort of 'fun'?"
"That's telling, mortal. I'll keep that a secret, because the less anyone else knows about it, the greater a surprise it is for everyone else." She saw no sense pressing the matter; odds were it had to do with his realm, and thus involved several things she wouldn't understand.
"Who is Derrick, and why did you even bother sending him to help me?"
"Derrick is my servant - I dare say my champion, in fact. I sent him to you because he's the best of my servants, and will assuredly help you finish your task a lot faster than you would on your own."
"You didn't send him right away?" She was quite curious now, and more than a little irked that it seemed as if it had been an afterthought on Vile's part.
"It was entertaining to watch you butcher the weaklings that called themselves leaders of the bandit groups," he chuckled in response. "The real work didn't begin until after they were dead."
"...Fair enough." She stared at the head of the statue. "Why would anyone try killing me, simply because I'm working for you?"
"I have enemies, and they'd love to stand in my way. Surely you know what that's like? Is that truly such a foreign concept to one such as you, miss 'Bandit Queen'?"
"You're deflecting the question," she hissed.
"I gave you the honest answer, mortal."
"Fine. Who is trying to interfere?"
"Could be anyone. Ulfric Stormcloak, some random Khajiit... there was also that one time Sheogorath..." He was silent for a time. "You mentioned your assailant summoned something. What was it?"
"Fuck if I know," she sighed. "It looked... I guess fish-like. It was huge, had arms and legs, and immense physical strength... it never hit me, but judging from the way the ground shook whenever it slammed the ground..."
"...Ah." His tone bespoke recognition.
"You know exactly who's trying to-" she began. She stopped, however, when a large book with a black cover appeared out of nowhere and hung in the air before her.
"Give that to my champion the next time you see him," Vile instructed, cutting her off the question forming at her lips. "Tell him to destroy everything he sees. He'll know exactly why I'm asking him to do this." The book fell to the ground with a firm 'thump'; Larian noted that despite the fall, the book did not open. She picked it up and cautiously tried to pry it open. "Don't bother, mortal. It's sealed shut, but Derrick should be able to open it. He has his duty, you have yours."
"What is this book?" she asked, giving up on trying to make the book's cover budge.
"A portal to Apocrypha, Hermaeus Mora's realm," Vile remarked dryly.
"Very funny," Larian grumbled, tucking the book under her arm.
"I thought so. So, unless there are any more questions... I believe you have a ruin to get to, and a book to deliver. Derrick has obtained what you'll need to get inside, and awaits you at some dragon's lair between Winterhold and... what is the name of that hold where Dawnstar's located...?"
"The Pale," she sighed. "So Mount Anthor is where he's waiting for me. Why?"
"News has spread that the College was... targeted. He's decided to lay low for the time being." Larian didn't like how he said 'targeted', but didn't press the matter. "Do be careful on your way to Derrick, mortal. Competent servants are so hard to find these days."
"Your flattery needs work," she muttered.
A.N. - Oh, Vile. Sometimes, blunt honesty is the best way to make someone doubt an item's actual purpose.
I hope no one's grown particularly attached to Runael. She dies next chapter. (I kid, I kid.)
Anyway, introducing Runael and Neria to one another was necessary. Neria, after all, is all caught up in this bandit business; it only makes sense to join forces with the rest who are helping.
Is Larian truly so... 'loose' that she'd let a guy just have her way with her? Sure... if you count seducing guys (and in some cases, women), luring them somewhere dark and secluded... then robbing them blind, knocking them out, and getting the hell out of town. In other words, no, she's not. She actually doesn't like women who are so loose.
I was on quite a roll this past weekend. How much of a roll? Well, I had the next 7 chapters written on Saturday night (including this one). Now? I've finished writing Eventide. That's right, I'm done writing it. Final chapter of the story is done (and is Chapter 23). There are just 12 more chapters to follow this one. I personally like the way it turned out, but then again, it's not my opinion that matters the most.
I think I've managed to burn myself out. Luckily, the only 'writing' I'll be doing for a little while is Author Notes. There's also something else I've started to write, but I'm going to take that nice and slow for the time being.
-Spiritslayer