"Pente?"
Pente curled up in her bed, eyes tightly shut. She didn't want to get up. Ever. Damn it - she had just been in the middle of a really good dream involving Baurus, Martin, and copious amounts of cake... And rawr-ing! She certainly had no plans to get up now! "Mmf. Go 'way."
"Pente." The voice was more insistent now, and the Bosmer emitted a muffled groan. Oh, in the name of Akatosh! It's Jauffre. Just who I want to see first thing in the morning.
Wait! Eww.
Jauffre continued, clearly annoyed. "Martin has made progress on the Mysterium Xarxes and wishes to speak with you about it. I doubt this is the sort of thing you can say 'go away' to," he grumbled. Pente emitted a small squeak of apology.
"S-sorry. I'm coming..." she yawned widely, rubbing her eyes as he left the room. After tugging on some clothes she wandered towards the main hall, dragging her feet. Stupid Jauffre. Stupid mornings. Stupid mother keeping me awake half the night with her nagging.
"Good morning," Martin smiled, as Pente came to join him. "Has Jauffre told you? I've deciphered part of the ritual needed to open a portal to Camoran's Paradise!" He patted the Mysterium Xarxes, which lay on the table in front of him. "I really must thank you for bringing this to us. It seems to be the key to everything."
"Welcome." Pente smiled, sleepily. Gosh, he has a lovely voice. Soothing. I... So tired.
Martin coughed before continuing. "Ah, good. Well, apparently we need four items for the ritual, but so far I have only deciphered one of them: the 'blood of a Daedra Lord'. Would you be willing to retrieve that for us?"
Pente gasped in alarm. "Wh-what? You want me to go st-stab Mehrunes Dagon or s-something? Because I kn-know I've done lots of scary things, b-but I don't think I'm ready for anything l-like that just yet--"
"No, nothing like that," Martin explained. "I have a solution. Daedric artifacts are known to be formed from the essence of a Daedric Lord, from whence they derive their great power - so obtaining one of those should do the trick."
"Oh." Pente tried to calm herself down, a little. "So how would I get one of th-those?" Surely it couldn't be too difficult. It had to be better than poking at Dagon with a sharp stick, at any rate - and if nothing else, it would get her out of the area so she didn't have to keep her mother entertained. Thank the Nine!
Jauffre massaged the sides of his head. Did Aranwen ever shut up?!
"...And just look at the state of this kitchen!" she gasped, running a finger along the surface of a table. "Is this... is this flour?! Just what have you been feeding my poor daughter? No wonder she's all skin and bone, honestly..."
"We have been feeding your daughter what she wants to be fed," Jauffre grumbled, gritting his teeth. Now was not the time to mention the cake incident - he wouldn't wish the wrath of this crazy Wood Elf on anyone.
"Hmm. Well, I'm sure she's being a good girl, despite all the bad influences around here." A disapproving sigh escaped Aranwen's lips. "Where did you say she was, anyway? Leyawiin?"
"No, Baurus is in Leyawiin. Your daughter is on a very important and confidential assignment, which may take her to a variety of places."
"So you sent my baby out there by herself, to unknown dangers, without any help or contact? My poor little Penny?" Aranwen huffed, clenching her teeth. "You're lucky you're such a cutie, Jauffre darling, or I'd be most vexed at you." She patted Jauffre's cheek as she wandered away, humming to herself.
Jauffre's eye twitched. Cutie?! Grandmasters were most assuredly not cute!
Pente was beginning to wish that she had just stayed back at Cloud Ruler. This was proving to be impossible! She had visited a couple of shrines so far, with no success. Martin's research had directed her to the shrine of Azura, which wasn't too far from Cloud Ruler Temple. However, upon arriving, Pente had soon discovered that Azura's task would involve slaying vampires.
Vampires? Pente had fled from the shrine as fast as her legs would go. She hoped that Azura wasn't too mad.
The next shrine she had stumbled across had belonged to Sheogorath. Pente never even found out about the Madgod's task - talking with the group of worshippers there had convinced her that involving herself in one of his schemes would be a very bad idea. The girl with the rather sinister interest in trolls was bad enough, but when one of the lunatics said something about "delicious children" and started trying to chew her foot, Pente fled.
Asking around in Skingrad had, at last, provided her with a new lead. Pente was heading there now - the shrine of Sanguine... Why did that sound so familiar? Almost as if she'd heard someone mention it recently.
Sanguine... Nope, can't remember. Oh, well. The Bosmer hoped fervently that this task wouldn't involve anything too frightening. Weren't there any Daedra Lords who just wanted to sit down and have a nice chat?
"Martin, dearest. Just what are you doing?"
Martin smiled weakly, interrupted from his alchemy. "Oh. Hello, Aranwen. The Blades appear to be running a little low on their supplies of curative potions, so I decided to make myself useful and start making some more."
"Ah. Using plants, I see." Aranwen swept aside the various ingredients littered on the table, and carefully scooped them into a neat pile before setting them on fire with a weak spell. Martin opened his mouth to protest, but the bossy mer cut him off. "I've been meaning to speak with you about this. It's for your own good, darling. For the good of allTamriel." She sat across from Martin, staring at him gravely. "It's about this casual usage of leaves."
Martin goggled, too indignant to speak. Did she... Did she just set my alchemy ingredients on fire?
"It's just not right, you know. Most unbecoming. Every time you play with... with produce," Aranwen said, looking sickened, "you get just a teeny bit more damned in the eyes of the gods. Now, don't get upset - you're a lovely young man, and I'm sure you can be redeemed with a little work. Have you ever considered worshipping Y'ffre and taking the oath of the Green Pact?" she asked, patting Martin's arm gently.
"I..." Martin groped for words. "Aranwen, I am a Priest of Akatosh."
Aranwen shook her head dismissively. "Akatosh, Auri-El - we can soon fix that, darling."
Martin folded his arms, firmly. "Much as I appreciate your concern, I really do not find this appropriate--"
"YOU." Jauffre growled, pointing at Aranwen as he entered the room. "Out. Now. Stop harassing our future Emperor, or I shall be forced to place you under arrest."
"Gosh," Aranwen fumed, pouting. For a moment she looked uncannily like her daughter as her brow furrowed in sulky frustration. "I was only trying to help."
"Hello, hello! I'm Engorm. It's a pleasure to meet you. Have you come to revel in the glory that is the Shrine of Sanguine?"
Pente blinked in surprise. These worshippers were a lot friendlier than the other groups she had met so far! Perhaps a little too friendly, she reflected, as the little old mer put his arm around her. "U-um. I just want to approach the Shrine. Is that o-okay?"
Engorm looked incredibly disappointed. The disapproving expression on his face combined with his balding head resulted in Pente being forcibly reminded of Jauffre. "You won't be joining in with the festivities, then? Most unfortunate... Well. Yes, feel free to summon our Lord. You'll need some brandy, of course..."
Pente's heart sank. "But I don't have any!"
The mer lowered his eyelids and smiled. "Here. Take some of mine. This is only because I like you, you understand."
Taking the bottle from Engorm's hands, Pente beamed. What a nice person! "Oh, thankyou very m-much!"
"If you want to show your gratitude, you could always join our little revel!" the old mer trilled, winking. Pente shuddered and felt squirmy without even knowing why. A female Khajiit sidled over to them, holding out two lacy garments for Engorm's approval.
"Which one today, Engorm?"
He cast an appraising eye over the items, eventually taking one and putting it up against himself experimentally. "Hmm. I think the tassels and fishnets should do nicely. Come, Ashni!"
Pente struggled mightily against the urge to vomit as she realised that Sanguine appeared to be the Daedric Prince of orgies. She gulped and took a deep breath. Do NOT look at anything. Head straight for the statue. Eyes on the altar. C-concentrate.
Wait, didn't that Gwinas person say something about learning from Sanguine? O-oh GODS, eww.
Shuddering, Pente poured the brandy over Sanguine's altar. She closed her eyes tightly and bowed her head in prayer. Please, just appear quickly so I can get out of here!
"So uptight, mortal! Why don't you just sit back and enjoy the view?"
"Y-yagh!" Squeaking, Pente stumbled backwards in shock. The disembodied voice giggled, sneeringly.
"Yes... By far the most uptight mortal I've seen for years!" The voice paused, as if Sanguine was considering something. "Then again... those dreams you've been having about the priest and the Redguard... Interesting stuff. But my assessment still stands, unless you're planning on acting those out anytime soon..."
Pente blushed furiously, feeling faint. Her mouth opened and closed in a mute expression of horror. Maybe it would have been a better idea to just go and kill vampires for Azura. Yes. Surely there was still time...
Sanguine let out another cruel giggle - Pente couldn't help thinking that he was really very undignified for a Daedric Prince. "Seeing as you don't seem like the type to do anything extreme, how about I give you a nice, simple task? I'll be nice, as you're doing this for an... old friend of mine. Countess Alessia Caro of Leyawiin is having a party, and I wasn't invited. All I want is for you to go there and cast a spell on her and her guests for me. Just to make things a little less boring. That's it. You do that, you get a shiny new Daedric artifact. That's what you're here for, right? Unless you are planning on joining in our revel, after all..."
"Wh-what?! No! N-no, I'll do the spell!" Pente shrieked, shaking her head desperately. "It's not going to hurt anyone, right? I w-won't get in trouble for this?"
"Of course not! No violence involved. What's wrong, mortal? Don't you trust me?"
"N-no," Pente said, as bravely as she could.
There was a tinge of amusement to Sanguine's reply. "Smarter than you look, eh?"
Aranwen pursed her lips and muttered to herself. This was most irritating! "Goodness, surely it shouldn't be too much to expect the kitchens to be well-stocked..." Opening cupboards with no results, she gritted her teeth. Just two different kinds of meat? What kind of backwater army was this?
There was only one thing for it - she would have to go hunting. Retrieving her bow and arrows from the armoury, Aranwen strode regally out of the temple doors. She had definitely seen deer on her way here earlier, and some venison would definitely hit the spot...
"What are you doing now?!" Jauffre bellowed, running towards her. Goodness, he looks frustrated. I wonder why? He should learn to relax, the poor dear.
"I'm going hunting, silly," she beamed, opening the temple gates. "Would you care to join me?"
Jauffre ground his teeth. "You are compromising the temple's security, as well as putting your own life in danger. I forbid it."
"Come with me, then! You can protect me from Mothic Doom agents or whatever they're called!" Aranwen trilled, linking her arm through his. "It won't take long. I'm a really super shot."
Trembling with rage, Jauffre found himself being dragged out of the gates. "My dislike of you grows more intense with every passing moment."
Nocking an arrow onto her bowstring, Aranwen crept towards the thin covering of trees where she had seen the deer before. "Don't mumble, dearest. I'm trying to concentrate."
"Get out of my way!"
Pente was unceremoniously pushed aside by a rather haughty-looking Altmer as she stood in the hallway of Castle Leyawiin. So rude! Sighing, she decided that the castle had to be one of the most uninviting places she had ever been. Everyone was so snooty and condescending! Were all nobles like this?
The Altmer was approaching a guard standing across the hall. "I'm here for the party," she sniffed, and the guard bowed respectfully before stepping aside to allow her access. Pente smiled - at least she seemed to be in the right place. She walked up to the guard, imitating the Altmer's disdainful manner. It was rather hard to look down your nose at someone when you were a foot shorter than them, but Pente hoped that she was managing.
"I'm h-here for the party."
The Imperial looked at her in disbelief. "Dressed like that?"
"U-um..." Pente squirmed, uncomfortably. Apparently, shabby armour didn't qualify as party-wear. "Of c-course not! Is there anywhere I can get changed?"
Rummaging through her bag, Pente let out a tiny moan of despair. She had nothing to wear. This was impossible! What she wouldn't give for one of her pretty dresses, now. Briefly, she wondered what had happened to them. Were they still in Kvatch, or had they been destroyed? Or perhaps the Daedra took those, too. She shuddered at the mental image of a Dremora running around in a frilly dress, and continued her search.
Flinging items haphazardly from her pack, things were looking bleak. "Come on," Pente hissed, "There has to be something in here that I... oh!" She smiled, delighted, as she came across something silky buried under several potion bottles.
Her smile faded as she held the slightly crumpled garment in front of her. She stared, completely horrified.
No.
There's no way... This... it just...
This is NOT BLOODY FAIR. Pente clenched her fists and steeled her resolve. Whichever gods were responsible for this, she figured it was safe to assume that they were all complete gits.
Yawning, the guard wondered where the Wood Elf had got to. It shouldn't take this long for her to clean herself up, surely? Oh, for the love of Dibella - what if she was a thief? If he had let a burglar loose in the castle, the countess would kill him. Possibly literally.
Oh, wait - there she was! The guard sighed with relief. Thank the Nine. She looked very different now she had got rid of that armour, he thought, but it was definitely the same girl. Her short hair was swept back into an elegant ponytail, she had cleaned the dust and grime from her face, and... and she was wearing a most unusual dress.
It was green. With little unicorns embroidered around the hem.
"Are you going to let me in or not?" the mer snarled, squeakily. The guard stepped aside to let her into the room - guest list be damned, he wasn't going to argue with such a ferocious little creature. Pente swept into the dining hall as regally as she could, holding her head high. Composed. Poised. Elegant. I'll b-be fine.
"My goodness. Is that a nightgown?"
Pente shot the speaker her most withering glare. "I'll h-have you know this is high fashion in Valenwood," she snapped, blushing.
"Funny," drawled the Altmer who had pushed Pente aside earlier. "I was there only a few weeks ago, and I didn't see anyone wearing anything like that."
"It's the very newest style," Pente bluffed. "D-don't blame me because you're behind on the times." That shut the Altmer up. She looked down at her own dress, as if contemplating what it would look like with unicorn embroidery of its own. Pente smiled - small victories were often the sweetest.
She glanced around the room, finally spotting the countess talking with her advisor. Her stomach flipped, nervously - it was time to get this over with. Why spend any more time than necessary with these horrible people? Pretending to drop something on the floor, she dove under the long dining table that dominated the centre of the room. Muttering a quick prayer for luck, Pente peeped from under the tablecloth, cast the spell, and ducked back to safety as quickly as she could.
The screams erupted instantly, and Pente felt sick with fear. What had she done? Sanguine had promised that nobody would get hurt, but the screams... They sounded hysterical, horrified. She didn't think very much of the nobles, but she didn't want any of them to end up mutilated! Pente peered out through the tablecloth again, apprehensively... and let out a half-choked gasp of shock.
The Countess and all her guests were running around in just their underwear. And, Pente realised with a sickening jolt of terror, s o was she.
Sanguine! You c-complete back-stabbing, bark-chopping son of a scrib! Pente trembled. She was trapped. I'll be okay. Just s-stay hidden. It'll all be fine--
"What have we here?"
Pente cried out fearfully as a guard lifted the tablecloth behind her and grabbed her ankle. Reflexively, she brought back her free leg and smashed it into his face as hard as she could. The guard let go of her, and Pente scrambled away from the table, grabbing the tablecloth to cover herself with as she went. The entire contents of the table went crashing to the floor as Pente sprinted away from the commotion, the tablecloth fluttering behind her like some kind of bizarre cape.
Baurus stepped into the Three Sisters Lodge, choosing a seat by the window. It was about time for him to be heading back to Cloud Ruler - getting the amulets had taken much longer than anticipated. Dagail, The Mages Guild representative in Leyawiin, had decided that today would be a wonderful day to lose her magical trinket that stopped her going nuts. Baurus had been roped into finding a replacement so he could get the mer to be lucid enough to actually give him the freshly enchanted amulets, and it had taken rather more work than expected.
Dagail had also said she would be writing him a recommendation for entry to the Arcane University, refusing to listen to his protests about not actually being a member of the Mages Guild. Baurus smiled, wryly. A Bosmer who didn't listen? Whatever next?
Looking out of the window, the Redguard craned his neck to get a better view. There seemed to be some kind of commotion out there... What in Nirn was that high-pitched noise? It was getting louder - closer? - and it just seemed so... familiar.
"AaaaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"
Baurus stared in silent disbelief as a screaming, Wood Elf-shaped blur sped past the window, followed moments later by guards. No. It can't be... There's just no way...
Pente ran as fast as she could, her breath catching in her chest as she ducked through the alleyways in her attempt to lose the guards. This was not going well. Clutching the tablecloth more tightly around her, she forced her legs to keep moving. P-please... I can't keep this up for much longer!
"PENTE? Pente! Over here!"
Pente almost wept. Maybe the Divines were watching over her after all. Baurus! He was holding open the city gates, and he threw a potion at her as she sped past him. Catching it clumsily, Pente glanced at the label. Invisibility! Perfect! Quickly gulping down the contents of the bottle, she crumpled to the ground outside the gates, gasping for breath. S-safe... now...?
Baurus soon emerged from the city, looking around for her. "Pente? You still here? They're gone."
Thankyou thankyou thankyou! Pente took the opportunity to rearrange her tablecloth around her while she was still invisible, making sure she was completely covered. This was embarrassing enough without --
The invisibility wore off as Pente finished her arrangements. "Oh, there you are..." Baurus trailed off, his eyes widening and his mouth twitching with mirth. "I... what's..." he got no further before dissolving into helpless, hysterical laughter. Pente glared as fiercely as she possibly could, her cheeks burning.
"It's a tablecloth. Obviously."
Baurus only laughed harder. "But why?"
"Daedric quest. Sanguine. Took my clothes. I have to get back to the shrine."
"So you were getting chased... for... for..." Tears rolled down the Redguard's face, the laughter only growing more intense.
"Shut up and help me. You don't expect me to w-walk all the way back to the shrine with no shoes, do you?"
Trying to regain his composure, Baurus took several deep breaths. "Gods. This could only happen to you, you know that? Come on. I'll give you a piggyback ride." He couldn't help cracking up into laughter again as Pente responded with a humiliated little growl.
"F-fine." She climbed onto his back, clinging to his neck. "But you will r-regret this."
Especially when we get to the shrine and I "forget" to warn you about Engorm. Nobody messes with Pente!
Martin sighed. Aranwen was nagging him again. She had cornered him with some kind of broth made of venison, and was currently explaining what a lovely Empress Pente would make. Apparently, subtlety was not one of Aranwen's strong points.
"...and she's always been a good little mer. Loyal, meek, she'd make the perfect wife for a lucky man. Alright, she's not stunningly beautiful - but you don't seem like the shallow type, dear. I mean, just look at your robes..."
"OUT. You insufferable harridan!" Jauffre stormed over, grasped Aranwen's shoulders, and bodily removed her from Martin's presence. Martin distantly heard her cooing and giggling about how forceful Jauffre was, and he couldn't help but shudder slightly.
He was thankfully
distracted from any disturbing mental images by the two figures who
emerged through the temple doors. Baurus and Pente were back, at
last! They looked very much worse for wear, though. Baurus looked
haunted, as if he had seen things that no man should ever see, and
Pente looked positively furious.
Her pants also appeared to be on backwards. Martin had no time to contemplate why that would be, because Pente interrupted his thoughts by slamming an object down onto the table in front of him.
"THERE. Blood of a stupid gods-damned Daedra. Yours. TAKE IT." She was quivering with rage. "Hurry up and get it out of my sight. I s-swear, if I never see it again it'll be too soon --"
"Sanguine Rose."
"Pardon?" Pente asked, distracted.
"I never thought to see this again. I once possessed it, briefly ... a lifetime ago, it seems now ..." Martin trailed off, lost in his memories.
Baurus gaped. Pente swayed, dizzily, images of Engorm and Gwinas and Martin and fishnet stockings swirling through her head before she fainted dead away.
Notes: If anyone gets through this chapter without any mental scarring, I'm incredibly proud. Or horrified, I'm never certain which... Erk!
