It was nearly midday when we finally arrived at Chorrol, the autumn sun beating down and filling the air with the smell of the last ripening wheat fields as they were harvested. This would be the last we would travel by horse, which from our experiences it was not something that either of us would begrudge. Both of us were so used to travelling on foot by now that we found ourselves longing for it as we dismounted and handed our steeds over to the hostlers at the city stables for a handful of gold septims.
By the time the midday bell began to toll we had found ourselves in the headquarters of the Cyrodiil Fighters Guild, presenting ourselves in front of Vilena Donton and her second in command Modryn Oreyn. The two of them presented imposing sights, both hardened by decades of mercenary work and having the scars and injuries to show for it. Vilena was close to Jauffre's age and Modryn appeared to only be a handful of years her junior at the most, but despite their advancing age they still had bodies hard forged by combat. Vilena still possessed a frame that would rival a professional lumberjack and Modryn, while whippet thin in comparison had a similar strength and agility of an acrobat.
The messages that they had received from Cloud Ruler and Jauffre, as well as the good word that Burz gro-Khash had provided ensured that we were welcomed warmly, but there would be no preferential treatment. We were new inductees and would be treated the same as all the others who entered the guild and despite our fame as the heroes of Kvatch, and members of the Blades we would have to earn our keep, and the respect of the other guildsmen the hard way.
Unlike other adventurers and mercenary groups throughout Tamriel the Fighters Guild provided a specific service not only to those wishing to hire its services but also to its members. Members of the Guild would be expected to undertake any contracts received by the local Chapterhouses and would receive between 75%-90% of the agreed price. The rest would be provided to the Chapterhouse and the wider Guild to pay for everything from repairs of the houses, to pensions and stipends for those members who had served several years in the guild or who had received crippling injuries. Such an arrangement was designed to provide security to those who joined the Guild's ranks but if there were no contracts then there would be no income and most members were only loyal to coin.
For the week that we stayed in Chorrol we spent most of our time either idle or training with the handful of guildsmen who were inclined in such a way. For most part we found that the Cheydinhal Chapter was very much the norm. Whenever the members of the Guild were not fulfilling contracts they were usually idling their days away or crawling into the bottom of a flagon. Only the most experienced or keen would bother with honing their skills and after spending so long with such professionals as the Blades we found ourselves missing their routines.
Modryn Oreyn was not one for resting on his laurels however. The aging dark elf found us shortly after dawn on the third day since our arrival and stated that he had found a suitable test of our skills. As was the tradition he informed us, the first contract any new inductees undertook would be done completely for free to determine their true suitability for membership. Our trial by fire would be a relatively simple one, a farm a couple of hours walk to the south east had been suffering goblin raids as the greenskinned menaces plundered the ripening crops. Our first contract would be to travel to the farm, stay there overnight and ensure that the Goblins would not be capable of continuing their theft.
Viconia grumbled somewhat about the apparent insult to her skills at something she considered akin to cleaning latrines but we both found ourselves marching onto the tiny farmstead in the forest before midday. The farm barely qualified itself for the name, a tiny stone-brick house and surrounding vegetable plots slowly losing the fight against the encroaching forest. The farm's owner; an elderly widower by the name of Valus Odiil lived there with his two sons, both barely out of their teens and making a living from what little crops they managed to harvest and sell in the city. The old man was obviously concerned for his and his children's welfare and as soon as we arrived both Viconia and I realised the reason why we had been provided this task for our initiation. Like nearly every farmer in Tamriel they barely had two wooden septims to rub together, and owning little more than the dirt under their boots no one else from the city was going to bother to help them. It was more than likely that if we hadn't joined the guild when we did that both the old farmer and his sons would have either ended up dead at the knives and claws of goblins, or fleeing and leaving all their worldly possessions behind them.
Instead they found themselves rising from a sleepless night, opening the door to their hovel and staring at amazement as the better part of an entire goblin tribe was now fertilising their fields. Both Viconia and I had slaughtered the creatures in the night with little to show for it other than a fresh layer of gore over our armour and clothing and a few expended arrows. The total amount of the contract was a measly 5 gold septims, which represented a year or two's worth of savings from the old farmer and his family. Their gratitude for not only saving their farm but for the way how I had told them to keep the coins and other rewards they tried to bestow on us. Viconia's disgust at my actions dogged me for the rest of the return journey as I told her that I was going to provide Modryn the 5 gold septims from our own meagre purses and by the time we entered the city gate I would've sworn that I had a burnt patch on the back of my skull from the intensity of her gaze.
As for Modryn, he and all the other Guildsmen watched with something resembling disbelief and awe as I simply strode inside, dropping the pair of sacks on the floor near the front entrance that left some of their bloody contents to tumble out onto the floor. Just over twenty leathery heads were packed into the sacks and showed the grim and bloody total of our actions over the previous day. As I handed over the five coins from my own purse I ignored Viconia's dark expression at my side and watched Modryn's face as he used a considerable amount of will to keep his face neutral at the pair of stinking sacks at our feet.
With a few more days it was obvious that we were no longer going to be of much use to the guild remaining in Chorrol. Contracts around the region were almost non-existent but there were plenty of other chapterhouses that would benefit from our assistance. So on the sixth day of pour arrival Viconia and I found ourselves sitting on a pair of wagons heading south, being little more than glorified caravan hands as we made our way to the West Weald and the City of Skingrad.
The region around Skingrad was one of the richest and most prosperous within all of Cyrodiil. The extensive fields of wheat and grapes and the dozens of wineries as well as mines hewing precious metals out of the rock ensured that the trade travelling from the Port of Anvil towards the Imperial City was well met through the county. The food grown in this region alone counted for a significant portion of the supplies keeping the heart of the Empire alive and most of the silver septims circulating through Cyrodiil originated from not only the mines, but the mints and metalsmiths of the city.
In such an area however the wealth also attracted those who coveted it. Bandits were common, as were goblins, ogres and various other threats that came to cut their own slice away from the rich flesh of the county. Where this would serve to be a significant issue for almost anywhere else in the Empire, Skingrad was ruled by an extremely capable, if reclusive Count who did everything in his power for the lands under his rule. Between fostering strong relations with the local Legion Forts and outfitting a professional force of citizen-soldiers and guards, Skingrad was one of the quietest and most heavily patrolled regions outside of City Isle. Unfortunately this resulted in few proper contracts for the local members of the Guild who had become increasingly lazy until they were even defaulting on the few contracts that came their way.
The city was clean and well maintained, but the local Chapterhouse was not. Cobwebs hung from walls; most still containing their original inhabitants and the few pieces of equipment that still remained in storage was beginning to lose their campaigns against the encroaching rust. Where most other guild houses had in excess of two or three dozen members, the Skingrad Chapterhouse had less than ten, and most of these lived out of the local taverns and inns than doing anything resembling work. For most part they acted as bouncers and local muscle for merchants and craftsmen, otherwise they were a considerable thorn in the side of the city guard with at least one arrest for drunken behaviour or brawling every week.
For once both Viconia's and my emotions aligned perfectly and both of us were disgusted with the state and bearing of the local guild and its members. While not solely their fault none of them had even so much as lifted a finger to better their situation. They were all content in drinking their days away and it was only a single trio of the guild who seemed to have any form of standards or professionalism. Ah-Malz the argonian, local-born Imperial Fadus Calidius and a young Bosmer Archer calling herself Parwen were the only three who seemed to have any sense of importance and duty. As a result, they would only rarely be found within the city or the guild, but instead spent their time hunting the various goblin tribes that were in the habit of infesting every cave and dark crevice to be found. We met them briefly between some of their hunts, exchanging our mutual opinions of the other members of the guild before going about our own businesses.
For the first two days we found ourselves with little to do but hang around the chapterhouse and train against each other. Being alone with Viconia was becoming more and more distracting as the days progressed as I found it more and more difficult to put aside my growing attraction to her. As the relations between us seemed to warm noticeably so did the way we interacted until I was certain that she was purposely acting in certain ways or doing certain things that made my stomach clench almost painfully. Whether it be a hint of proximity during training where we found ourselves closer than what would be expected for swords practice or a sudden touching of fingers when we passed something between ourselves, I found myself increasingly infatuated with my Drow companion.
What made it worse for me is that she obviously knew my growing feelings and acted upon them in a sultry, seductive way that only made things worse. Not having any experience with women was not helping me in the slightest and even a glance or half smile from her was enough to fan the flames of attraction that were growing stronger with every passing day. It was almost a relief when a runner arrived at the guild with word of a new contract at a settlement to the northwest of the city. A handful of farms and homesteads were suffering raids from an unknown source and all of the available members were contracted to head there, discover the cause of the raids and stops them by whatever means were necessary.
Come morning of the third day we found ourselves making our way towards the tiny hamlet of farmers hovels half a day's travel away with the remaining guildsmen in tow. They were a sorry looking bunch; poorly maintained arms and armour matching their owners who only seemed ready for the march after dunking themselves in buckets or water troughs. The five of them were pathetic in the eyes of Viconia and myself and after weeks of spending time with the Blades and my years in service to the Legion I felt sullied in their presence. Even after hours of marching they struggled to simply walk in a straight line, eyes crossed and heads drooping as the eventual hangovers were sweated out of them in the warm autumn sun.
"It is days like this that I wonder what gods I have annoyed to punish me so." One of our new companions murmured as he sweated profusely under a helmet that was obviously too large for him.
I glared at him with enough venom that would've put a veteran centurion to shame but the Bosmer didn't notice it. He was far too busy staring at his feet as he scuffed them through the gravel underfoot. "Days like this leave me thinking the same thing."
He slowly, and with eyes glazed from the force of his hangover lifted his head and looked at me, completely oblivious to the sarcasm and irony dripping from my voice. So far there wasn't anything that I saw as redeemable within Maglir or his compatriots but we had been contracted to head out as a group and so I found myself stuck next to him as Viconia led the way. Typically short like the rest of his wood elf brethren, he appeared unusual in a way that he was clad in heavy plates of iron that were ill-fitting and worn not from extensive use but ill-repair. Unlike the rest of his kin he seemed to prefer to wear heavy armour and wield a sword and shield than a bow and leather. So far during the journey he hadn't seemed capable of discerning my dislike of him and his misplaced belief of his superiority and self-worth. Instead he spoke incessantly about how much we were going to be paid and how he hoped there wouldn't be any real work involved.
The others with us were very similar. A collection of individuals as varied as their equipment and hailing from almost all parts of the Empire. A Dunmer, Breton, Argonian, Khajiit, and Altmer trailed behind and other than our membership in the Fighter's Guild there was little in common between all of us, especially between them and Viconia and myself. Even Viconia's usual self-serving, haughty attitude paled in comparison to theirs and I came to the realisation that when a Drow calls you arrogant and egotistical you have a problem.
We were walking into the tiny hamlet in the depths of the West Weald. The great forest was over a day's steady march north of us, and Skingrad's towering spires of belltowers and battlements were fading on the horizion to the south. There was little in this region than gullies and rocky outcroppings, but the rolling hills and streams allowed wheat and other grains to be sewn with regularity. Dozens of tiny villages such as this one dotted the landscape. Some were little more than a collection of hovels located together for mutual support while others were growing into towns and were home than more than just farmers and their families.
This village however was little more than a collection of mudbrick huts surrounding a tiny village square and a tavern. There was nothing here for the inhabitants other than the surrounding farmland that faded into the midday haze and now that danger had entered their lives there were very few that could be found tilling the fields as we made our way into the village.
Eyes crowned in suspicion and distrust followed our armoured band. Visitors were rare outside of the handful of merchants who arrived with their wagons brimming with goods and the sight of several armoured and armed fighters in their midst did little to assays their fears. Only the knowledge that they were too poor for the attentions of bandits kept most of them staying rather than fleeing into the ripening fields of wheat.
"Greetings good sirs." Called out a voice and a hunched figure of one of the village elders hobbled over to us. "and m'lady."
Viconia gave him a gaze that would've frozen most with hesitation as she mentally tried to determine the old man's greeting. After a moment she decided that it was a sign of respect rather than a veiled insult and relaxed slightly.
"I certainly hope that you are our foretold assistance." he continued, leaning on a cane of weathered redwood and looking over us all.
I nodded, stepping forward and cutting off the others as they tried and failed to gather enough of their thoughts in their drunken and hungover minds. "We are. We're with the Fighter's Guild."
His crestfallen expression was sudden and I found myself wondering just how badly the local chapter's reputation must be if a community such as this knew of it. "Ah... I see. I'm not one for looking a gift horse in the mouth but we were all hoping for the Milita or guard."
"They were otherwise indisposed." I replied, looking over the growing collection of individuals as they gravitated towards our group and providing the handful of introductions.
"I'm Joocator Hofinus, village Aedile. I suspect that the situation here is the usual for you. Crops have been destroyed, and there have been deaths. Something has come during the night several times this past month and has been leaving devastation in its wake."
"How many deaths?" Maglir murmured, looking distinctly unhealthy while lifting his helm and scratching under the padded coif underneath.
"Six so far. Amrsek and his family were killed two nights ago and their home destroyed. There was barely enough left of any of them to bury."
I looked over the elder with an appraising eye and saw the old injuries up his bare forearms and the slabs of muscle that had not quite dissolved from age. He was strong from years eking an existence from the unforgiving soil but the arms showed scarring consistent from many years wielding a sword. Like many who served in the Legion he had been pensioned off upon receiving a grievous wound and allowed to return home to live out the rest of his years. The enforced limp spoke of an injury to the leg or perhaps knee that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
He too was gazing over our sorry looking band of sell-swords and obviously wasn't impressed at what he saw. The state of their equipment and the manner of their bearing was enough to ruin what little opportunity we had with first impressions but thankfully he seemed to be more confident with Viconia's and my own appearance in the group.
"Anyone have an idea of what is responsible?"
He shrugged, shaking his head and leaning more heavily on the cane. "I have my suspicions but nothing solid. Whatever it is it is strong enough to splinter an oaken door like matchwood and pulp a grown man into an unrecognisable paste."
I tried and failed to ignore the concerning muttering from the other members of our party and Viconia and I shared a slightly concerned glance that was mirrored by the dozen or so farmers and assorted family members gathering around us.
"Well, I guess someone better show us where the latest 'attack' occurred. Maybe we get lucky and they left some form of tracks."
In a small group the elder and other locals lead us a short distance from the central village to one of the several satellite farms surrounded in a sea of wheat. The smell of the ripening crops was a heady earthen scent that was unfortunately marred by the taste of death and blood that surrounded the ruined farmstead.
The walls still stood but the roof had caved in on itself in places where the walls had been breached by some incredible force. The door was little more than splinters and I found my gaze heading to each location where someone had died as my vampiric senses allowed me to detect the patches of dried blood. Most of the farm was ruined, wagons upended, windows shattered and great swathes of crops simply ripped from the ground in twisting and random patterns for dozens of acres.
Unease and nervousness was also evident on the breeze and a sizable portion that reached my nose was unfortunately from my supposed comrades in arms. Viconia thankfully gazed over the devastation with no change in expression or even the slightest hint of discomfort. After her upbringing in the Underdark and a brief jaunt into the depths of Oblivion a ruined farm barely rated a mention.
"So this happened at night?" I asked Joocator, gazing about and slowly seeing the patterns of movement where several large creatures had made their paths through the farm. Whatever wasn't ripped out of the ground by the roots had simply been trampled into the dirt.
Joocator followed beside me as I walked through the devastation, watching as I knelt down over certain items of places to get a closer look. "Yeh. Everyone heard the screams and what sounded like fighting. By the time a group of us had managed to band together and make it out here it was already over."
He pointed to the ruined fields with his cane while sitting on a mostly intact barrel laying on its side. "For the past fortnight the outer fields have been suffering similar raids, but this was the first time that it happened so close or to any of the buildings."
I ran my hand over the ruined doorframe of the hovel and noted how the thick wooden beams supporting the roof had been snapped in the centre by a blow of inconceivable force. Whatever had made entry had been too large to fit through the door and had battered its way inside to kill those huddling within. "Did any of the family survive?"
The grief that filled those who had followed us was understandable in such a tiny close knit-community. Those who had died would have more likely than not shared blood with others in the village and the loss of family members was never easy to bear.
"None were spared. Amrsek and Rasheille had four children, their youngest not even a year old."
My fist clenched so tightly that my leather gloves creaked and I knew that the gesture was not lost on the village elder. "Is there any caves around the area? Sightings of trolls or ogres?"
"No caves as such, and there hasn't been an ogre in this region for several winters. There are stories of goblins to the south and east but we haven't seen any around here. The thing that gets to me the most is that their bodies weren't eaten or otherwise touched. They were simply pulverised and then left where they had died."
"Well, that rules out trolls and ogres then." I rubbed my jaw and looked around. Too much time had passed since it had occurred to leave any smell of whatever was responsible, even to my enhanced senses.
Viconia however was picking her way through the detritus, studying the wreckage and the ground around the farmstead while the rest of our party seemed content to stand back and leave it all to us.
"Do you breed cattle or oxen here?" She asked, kneeling down in amongst the torn and crushed wheat stalks a few metres from a shattered fence.
There was a shake of the head from Joocator and a few of the other farmers. "We don't have the money to raise livestock, and the soil around here is better for crops."
She looked over to me and motioned. "I think you should look at this abbil."
In the ruined ground where countless stalks of wheat had been forcibly ripped from the soil there were crushed indentations that for the most part left no clue to whatever had caused the damage. However, in the recently churned earth there was less than a handful clear tracks that made me feel strangely uneasy and confused in equal measures. Shaped like an oversized hoof, the prints appeared to be little more than tracks left behind from any regular breed of cyrodiilic cattle except for their obvious and overwhelming difference in size.
"So a herd of cattle came through and trampled some peasants to death." Maglir muttered, drawing looks of unbridled anger from the villagers around us. "So much for getting paid."
I turned and stared at him until he returned my gaze. "How many legs do cows have?"
He shrugged. "Four of course."
"Can't you see that these tracks only come in sets of two?"
His face suddenly paled in a combination of the heat, his increasing hangover and the insulting tone in my voice. "Of course I can."
"Well then, you shouldn't have any problems with seeing this as well." To the gasps of those looking I pressed my hand into the base of one of the tracks, my splayed fingers not even touching the sides of the enormous indentation.
"Minotaurs." One of the nearby farmers murmured, making a quick sign to Kynareth with fluttering fingers. The sense of fear was suddenly evident from all involved as they looked at the devastation around them.
"How much is this contract?" Maglir suddenly blurted, looking even paler than before.
"Two Hundred and Fifty gold septims." I replied, seeing the nods from the handful of villagers around us.
The Wood Elf openly blanched at that and the handful of other fighters suddenly started sharing mutual curses and oaths. "There's no way I'm sticking my neck out for that measly amount. Not against minotaurs and not if I have to share it!"
"Our contract, you miserable cretin is to assist these people!" I snapped, my raised voice making everyone flinch back and ghosts of a smile play across Viconia's and Joocator's faces. That is what we are contracted to do!"
"You ever faced a minotaur?" he spat in reply, looking at my expression as I didn't respond. "I thought not."
"Have you ever faced anything more dangerous than a fly?" Viconia replied with a voice that could freeze a lake. Maglir may have considered getting into a verbal sparring match with me but a single glance from the Drow was enough to stop him momentarily.
"Minotaurs are no joke. It takes at least a team of five to take one down and they are never found alone!"
"This one is not going to end up as paste." Hissed Ja-Bhizaka, the Khajiit member of the group and the others nodded in agreement.
"So you're just going to default on this contract instead? Like all the others you have defaulted on?" my anger was growing and I could feel the strange tingling sensation growing in my cheekbones.
"If you care that much, then you go!" the short wood elf rose up to his full height which still left him looking upwards to face me. "The contract's yours. It's not worth it for what we're getting paid, and I have a family to consider."
Throwing a thumb over his shoulder at the village several hundred metres away he stared both Viconia and I down. The others in the party had already turned away and were laughing and joking much to the growing anger from the farmers. "We'll be in the tavern once you come to your senses. Don't expect us to be there come tomorrow if you decide to go and attempt suicide."
He too turned and followed the others, shuffling and swaying slightly as they left us and the small collection of villagers amidst the destroyed farm.
"Fine!" my voice was little more than a growl as I shouted after the retreating fighters. "To oblivion with all you pox-ridden sons of camp whores!"
The force and volume in my voice was enough to make several of the villagers step away, trading expressions of unease between themselves. For their part the small group of guildsmen barely paused in mid step, and I watched with growing anger as Maglir merely twitched and after using a surprising amount of will continued walking without turning around.
Viconia had turned a lighter shade from her own anger at their cowardice and the villagers seemed to be a mixture of confused and angry at being abandoned.
"Cowards." She murmured, spitting on the ground with enough force I was surprised the ground didn't shake.
"Perhaps you should just go." The weariness and despair filling Joocator seemed to stab me in the gut and I found myself hating the other members of the local Guild. "We will petition the legionaries at Fort Dirich and see if they will come to help."
He flinched slightly as I scowled, turning and looking at Viconia. "What do you think?"
"How many of these beasts can we be facing?"
One of the villagers moved forward slightly, his build and clothing showing that he was one of the few hunters in the hamlet and well versed in the wild. "They're herds are usually ten or so, rarely larger than twelve. The best way to remove a herd is to kill their longhorn; the alpha male."
There was an uncomfortable shrug from the man. "But that's an even quicker way to get yourself killed."
"How dangerous are they?"
"If provoked they can do this." The motion of his hands took in the ruined hut and its surrounds. "But normally they are peaceful grazers and only harm those who threaten their young or breeding cows."
"Well, it looks like they have been provoked." I carefully began checking my bow and other items of my equipment, much to the concern to those around us. "Where would they most likely be living?"
"You can't be serious!" spluttered Joocator. "I can't in good conscience let you both go to your death!"
"We've faced worse." Viconia's response was honest and received even more incredulity than what we were already being provided. "Kill the alpha male and the herd is no longer a threat? Sounds simple to me."
If they were all shocked at the rest of the guildsmen leaving, they were now utterly stupefied at Viconia and I not only considering hunting minotaurs, but preparing to do so on our own. Joocator watched with utter horror as we both checked over our various blades and my newest bow found itself in my hands as I strung its impressive shape with a waxed string.
"You don't have to do this." He stammered, trying to think of something, anything to make us change our minds.
"Six deaths already." My reply was simple "I can't leave with the likelihood of further deaths being added to that tally."
Viconia's face was grim but the smile was one showing how much she was relishing the challenge ahead. "I'd do it just to show those shu'karliiken how pathetic they really are." Her finger stabbed in the direction of the other members of the guild as they faded into the wheat.
"Shouldn't take us anything more than a day to return." The shock was not wearing off and I could see that most of the farmers present were already believing that they were looking at two dead people. I nodded my head in the general direction of the trail of destruction left by the minotaurs. "What is in that direction?"
The old hunter gestured hopelessly. "It's mostly wilderness, scattered forests and other vegetated areas. There's a few caves scattered about but otherwise there's only the ruins of Nonungalo."
"Ruins?"
"Ancient Ayleid ruins. Used to be a major city as far as I can gather but no one's been there in decades. It's an evil place."
"Sounds like a good place to start." I said simply to Viconia and received little more than a nod in return.
The farmers and the village elder stood in stunned silence as we simply shouldered our packs, gripped our weapons and strode through the carnage on the trail of the minotaurs. I was angry, and frustrated and the brief conversation that Viconia and I had before going silent in contemplation of the task ahead was purely focused on how we had no real choice in the matter. We had to undertake the contract as if we failed or defaulted we would be considered to be the same as the other cowards and the Guild would not support the Blades. If we had managed to undertake other contracts successfully before this one then it wouldn't have been as much of an issue. As it was the very first paying contract it was even more of a test than our battle against goblins. Whether either of us thought that it was a foregone cause was a secondary issue, as between Viconia's pride and my determination not to fail neither of us were going to simply turn around and stay in a tavern for the evening.
Thankfully the task of tracking the minotaurs was surprisingly easy, the towering brutes didn't so much as leave tracks as smash their way through anything and everything in their path. Snapped branches, uprooted trees and churned earth was left in their wake and we could've followed the path even a month after with no issues. My nervousness of following creatures capable of such feats of strength was building with every destroyed tree or smashed log but I felt somewhat confident in my own increasing abilities granted to me by my curse.
Viconia didn't seem to be overly concerned, merely liking the carnage around us to a time where she and a handful of other Drow had hunted down and defeated a Fomorian in the depths of the world. Her brief description of killing a creature ten metres tall and strong enough to crush boulders in its hands made me feel a little more confident about hunting down a dozen bull-headed humanoids twice our height. My nervousness was still increasing however as we found ourselves making our way between enormous moss and grass covered stone blocks and crumbled walls of a city long since dead and abandoned.
The ancient elves; the enslavers of humanity had built cities and settlements throughout Cyrodiil and the southern regions of the Empire. Only some were still in good condition due to being utilised or lived in by the younger races. Cities such as the Imperial City were far and few between, and most of the old cities were little more than the mouldering ruins that we now found ourselves slinking through. The signs that we were not the first living things in the ruins recently were everywhere, moss and creepers had been scraped away from the ancient stones and between the broken walls of Ayleid buildings the grass had been neatly cropped and grazed upon until only a few inches poked up from the soil. Dung was piled in several places, wrecked piles of bones from trespassing creatures and people alike were scattered about randomly and the scent of enormous animals was growing more potent with every step.
Neither of us made a sound as we made our way carefully into the long dead city, placing each foot with care and ensuring that we remained downwind of any potential threats ahead of us. For the better part of an hour we moved deeper into the ruins, watching and listening for any signs of our quarry. It was not long until the traces of their presence materialised into physical forms and both of us watched in awe as one of the giant creatures stomped its way down an overgrown thoroughfare with a massive bundle of wheat and other vegetation crushed under its arms. The sight of such a creature made me suddenly very concerned about our chances, the giant beast over four metres tall, arms as thick as beer kegs and reverse jointed hooved legs as thick as pines. The massive horned head snorted and panted as it moved, each horn over a metre long and strong enough to gore a fully plated knight to death with a mere flick of its solid neck. Traces of clothing and a crude loincloth of rough hides and woven grasses covered parts of its bulk and revealed a base level of intelligence that only increased the level of threat that it represented.
We followed behind the towering brute as it made its way unerringly through the ruins through a path worn through the grasses and into the stones beneath. Going by the belief that the creatures' few numbers would mean that they would live in a central location somewhere we simply followed it, keeping to the afternoon shadows and ensuring that the wind was in our face as much as possible.
Carefully creeping in its footsteps, we soon found ourselves near what appeared to be the central structure in the heart of the city. Long since abandoned, the tumbled masonry and overgrown debris revealed that a tower once stood above the central complex and while not overly tall it still left an entire street filled with its remains. At the base, the rounded and age-smoothed stones were separated and broken up only by a single darkened tunnel that lead into the depths of the constructed mound and the undercity beneath the ground.
"Looks like this is the place." I murmured to Viconia and we hunched down behind some jumbled stonework and a crumbling wall.
"Certainly looks as such." She stared at the gaping, inky black hole within the side of the structure. "How many do you think are in there?"
Shrugging I glanced around and saw the wind flowing through the few strands of white hair dangling from under her hood. For a moment it waved briefly, rolling the errant strands over her shoulders before suddenly changing direction and pushing her hair forward of her face and in the direction of the minotaur's den.
"Oh… Shit…." Her expression changed to confusion as she saw my own eyes grow wide and not understanding the source of my concern.
The wind changed direction suddenly and in the strange ruins it was suddenly flowing towards the hulking brute and the entrance to their lair. There were only seconds before our presences would be made known and I hurriedly fitted an arrow onto the bowstring and peered over the top of the broken bricks.
Towering in the tunnel's entrance the enormous beast suddenly stopped in place, head twitching and snuffling our scents being carried on the breeze. So close to their lair there was nowhere else to hide or to even attempt to run as it twisted about, breathing heavily and looking around the ruined city with tiny bovine eyes for the sudden smells that it detected. The surprise and shock only lasted for a short time before it dropped the bales of vegetation to the ground, head turning in our direction and knowing exactly where we were by smell alone.
The enormous bellow from the minotaur felt like a punch to the stomach as it threw its head forward and sprayed spittle from its gaping maw. Without thought and purely from its bestial instinct it rushed forward, roaring the whole time and ignoring everything in its path as it charged. Its enormous reverse jointed legs slammed into the ground with titanic force, the impacts felt through the soles of our feet as it smashed through crumbling walls without slowing.
My own animalistic instincts made it feel like time itself was encased in treacle. Carefully I raised the bow and hauled back on the string as though the 100 pound draw weight was nothing more than plucking at a lute string. I felt the fletching brush against my tightening jawline, the cheekbones shifting and writhing under my skin and the rippling muscle of the vampire filling my arms with unnatural strength. For what felt like minutes I held the string back, before releasing it and breathing out as calm as though I was firing into a straw practicing dummy.
The barbed tip of the arrow punched through one of the creature's eyes with enough force that the fletching was tangling with its eyelashes. Pride and satisfaction filled me for a moment until I realised that it didn't stop the charging brute, nor even slow it down.
It ran forward for another dozen paces, bellowing and smashing its way through another moss-covered ruin in an explosion of dust before it finally realised that it was dead from the broadhead lodged deep in its brain. With all the inevitability of an avalanche the minotaur buckled and fell over without even slowing is pace, slamming into the ground like a felled redwood and rattling our teeth in our skulls from the impact.
Viconia laughed, a strange sound in such a situation but one of obvious appreciation of the shot I had just made. It chilled me to the core however as the sudden booming response from the depths of the ruins echoed from the tunnel mouth and the ground began vibrating as the dead creature's kin responded to its warning howl. The drow at my side continued to laugh however, the tone darkening as her face once again scrunched into a frightening mask of determination and concentration that I was almost intimately familiar with by now.
Hands tracing flickering lights through the air she didn't even bother to draw her sword, instead calling upon the full force of her magical powers in a series of complex incantations and gestures. Within seconds her eyes had turned from the golden-yellow to a flickering white of a forge's flame as the witch-light began to shine through. The tingle of magicka on the air was a metallic taste on the tongue and I could feel my own changes begin to shift through my own flesh. Muscles suddenly felt tight in my clothes, the chainmail sleeves of my hauberk suddenly taut as my arms and chest grew in strength and power. My bowstring was drawn back to the ear again, aiming not with the arrow but with my mind in a way that only an experienced archer could manage.
Erupting from the depths of the earth the herd flowed in a wall of furred flesh and horns. Even the smallest of the beasts outweighed Viconia and I combined by a considerable margin and within seconds of entering the light of day they knew where we were. Half a dozen of the monsters rushed forward with blinding rage at not only our presence but at the death of their kin, bellowing through their snouts and lowering their horns for the charge.
An arrow buried itself in one of their chests, appearing to be as effective as an insect bite to the enraged creature even as a second punched between a pair of ribs a second later. There seemed to be no stopping the minotaurs as they simply lowered their horns and battered their way through the ruins between us and the entrance to their lair. While I shot arrows as fast as I could draw them, Viconia was crackling with powerful magicka. Weaving intricate patterns that left afterglows in the eyes she roared the words of the spells before hurling enough violent lightning into the onrushing wall of flesh and horns that for a moment I was blinded. A couple of the minotaurs fell flat on their faces, flesh smouldering from the discharge and features contorted in searing pain. A fourth finally dropped as I punched half a dozen arrows into its chest in a tight cluster that had managed to skewer its heart. This still left a pair of them remaining that crossed the distance between us with frightening rapidity.
We both threw ourselves aside as the first barrelled through our meagre protection with as much difficulty as I would pushing aside a curtain. Bricks and shattered mortar exploded as it shouldered its way through, followed closely by its last surviving clanmate as they chased after our darting forms. Viconia moved as quickly as a shadow being chased by the light, dancing and leaping her way up over ancient buildings with her usual liquid grace and making me appear clumsy in comparison. In a single smooth motion she snatched Dragonbane from its sheath, slicing and chopping at the grasping hands as large as her chest. Another bolt of lightning caught one in the face, followed by several centimetres of perfectly forged metal that seemed to pass through flesh, muscle and hardened bone like mist.
The last surviving minotaur, a young male only a few years old at the most bleated with anger and panic as it found itself alone and facing the killers of the majority of its herd. Where most creatures would've given in to panic and fled, the young minotaur instead charged blindly on, lowering its head and short horns at the lithe drow who was suddenly stuck in place trying to free her trapped blade from the grip of bone.
Before I had even realised what I was doing I had crossed the space between myself and the creature, tackling it and spearing it in the back with the point of Sunchild. The resistance of its flesh only lasted for a second before the sword was buried to the hilt in the creatures back, sending a roar of pain that hurt the ears and buffeted both of us with the volume.
Twisting in my grasp the enormous brute flicked me aside as I lost my grip on my sword, falling to the ground and suddenly finding myself the sole subject of attention to the minotaur. Enormous despite its relatively young age, it was still three metres of rippling flesh in the amalgamation of a Skyrim ox and a wrestler. Torn between opponents it chose to face me as the one who had injured it, roaring and totally oblivious to the sixty centimetres of elf-forged metal lodged in a lung that left its breath pink and frothy.
As it charged I found myself stuck between it and a wall and less than six metres separating us. Half a tonne of enraged muscle and dense bone rushed me with outstretched arms that could've crushed a mortal man, breath steaming in the air and blood splattering its chest. Both of us were just as surprised as the other when I simply roared back, catching both enormous arms as they went to grasp me around the chest in a crushing embrace. Gripping it by the wrists I felt the unnatural strength of the vampire grow, fuelled by the dark blood-taint of the daedra that left me suddenly able to check the creature's enormous strength with considerable effort.
The shock of my actions did little to the blood-savage mind of the minotaur as it simple pressed down hard with its full bodyweight that left every muscle of my body trembling with the effort of just holding it back. The fact I could even hold my own against a young juvenile was enough to show how potent and impossibly strong the vampire within me was. As I struggled I could feel my entire body rippling with the changes until links of my chainmail began to split and tear from the exertion and the swelling mass of my upper body expanding.
I was forced to my knees, groaning and roaring through a face split and terrible with fangs erupting from my gums. My face was tighter than the muscles in my arms and my bones were beginning to creak from the strain of holding such a creature back even for a few seconds. For those handful of seconds I had somehow managed to hold back an enraged minotaur calf with nothing more than my bare hands.
A blade point erupted though the minotaurs open, salivating mouth and suddenly the pressure ceased. Eyes rolling into the back of its skull, a fountain of high pressure blood suddenly gouted from between the enormous chisel-like teeth and I twisted and rolled away from the falling corpse.
"That was impressive." Viconia stated simply, making and effort not to look at me and I thrashed with the sensation of the vampire returning to my subconscious. Quickly and carefully she wiped Dragonblade clean on a mane of fur, looking over our handiwork and raising an eyebrow as I bent over dry heaving.
"It always feels weird." I explained quickly, wiping my mouth on the back of a glove to clear the minotaur spittle that had splattered my face. "Not exactly painful, but not without sensation."
"But effective nonetheless. You know that you don't have to show off by wrestling such a brute?"
"I thought you needed help." I said, feeling stupid at saying it as the flash of indignation crossed her face.
"You presume much wael. You might have wrestled one and shot two but I managed quite well against the rest."
Murmuring a poor apology as she glared at me, I rolled my neck and looked over our handiwork. Several tonnes of dead flesh lay scattered around us but it was obvious that only young calves and mature cows were among the dead. "I don't think we're finished though."
"Neither do I. I doubt that any of these specimens are the alpha male that we are seeking."
Together, weapons firmly in hand and Viconia filled with a crackling aura of raw power we made our way through the darkened entryway into the undercity. Normally stifling and claustrophobic in nature, darkened depths such as caves and tunnels were welcoming to the darkness infusing my soul. Within a heartbeat of entering into the depths my eyes adjusted unnaturally and pulled the shadows from my sight. Perfectly carved and placed marble blocks had been hewn from the stone or been built into the tunnels, filling the halls with the strange elegant beauty that seemed to fill all Ayleid constructions. Engraving thousands of years old covered every wall, statues stood silent vigil over ancient halls and every room held few clues to the majesty of the long succumbed race. Whatever had been capable of rotting and corroding had long since lost the battle against the march of time, and even the ancient stonework was hidden under layers of dust and creeping roots from trees nestling in the ruins above. Despite the age of such a place there had been little scavenging and everywhere ancient relics lay in the litter of the floors, rusting in places or glinting in fragments that provided no answers to their original owners.
Our way into the depths was surprisingly wet lit, as gleaming stones were placed in regular intervals that although faded in potency still provided enough light for unenhanced vision. Some lay fallen and cracked on the floor, others seemed to fade in and out as though representing the dying heartbeat of a city long since lost to mortals. They illuminated enough for us to know that the tunnels were a home once more.
Through the dust and piled into some of the branching tunnels and rooms the collections of the minotaur herd had been left to add to the decay of centuries. Fabric, weapons, agricultural equipment, bones, hides and broken glass as well as long rotted plants could be found everywhere. With most of the steps we took we had to ensure we didn't tread through the piles of stools that had been left heaped on the edges of the tunnels. The overwhelming rank odour of the enormous creatures that had made their home in the depths would have been enough to make us gag if the memories of our journey into Oblivion were not fresh in our minds.
Checking each room and collapsed hallway in turn we made our way deeper into the depths of the central catacombs, feeling the cloying semidarkness and smells of a minotaur clan wrap around us even tighter with every step. We were in the lowest levels of the ruins now, a region that had been surprisingly untouched by time, looters and scavengers but still deep with layers of dust. All of the passageways seemed to lead to this one hall, closed off by a single pair of enormous stone doors that would not have looked out of place in a castle gatehouse. Eight metres tall and curved to a point, they had blocked all attempts to access what laid beyond over the centuries until someone of impossible strength had broken through after a sustained assault.
Gingerly we entered the room beyond the smashed doors, picking our way through the rubble of their destruction and finding ourselves in a massive expanse that could only be a throne room. Life sized statues lined the hall, each representing a long dead Ayleid ruler or champion lost to the ashes of history. The craftsmanship was masterful, every line and crease and tiniest detail etched out in stone in the attempt to capture the life and personality of those that it represented. Looking over the statues with a strange sense of awe I could see the same strange flowing shapes of their blades matching the one clenched tight in my fist, and although elegant they appeared to be little more than poor imitations of Sunchild.
The rest of the enormous expanse was large enough for a crowd of hundreds to line the walls and face towards the raised throne on the far end. Alcoves and recesses were placed at specific intervals and behind the throne of polished and perfectly carved granite a pair of closed doors separated the hall from the handful of rooms beyond. The throne itself was a masterpiece of stonemasonry, engravings of such detail and skill that only when you were looking at it from centimetres away could you behold what was depicted. The deep grey-black of the granite was a stark contrast to the white marble and was another simple, if effective technique of directing the audience's attention to whomever was powerful enough to claim such a position.
Piles of trinkets and collections of random items and vegetation was scattered about the hall, piled up against the statues mounted on their pedestals and in the darkened recesses along the hall. Such alcoves were failed to be illuminated by the glowing Welkynd Stones mounted in the stonework but it was enough for both Viconia and I to note that there was potential of wealth scattered about the room.
There was however, no real sign of our quarry other than the traces of the creature making such an expanse it's lair. The herd had obviously been stockpiling for the coming winter months and their attempts of gathering such a prodigious amount of food had led them to the village and the bounty the surrounding farmlands had offered.
There was a scrape in the darkness and both Viconia and I froze in place, glancing between ourselves and searching the room for a trace of our quarry. For several heartbeats I began to believe that my ears had been playing tricks on me in the dark until I heard the sound again. A deep, dull scrape of an undefinable substance on stone as something enormous moved in the depths of the ruins and I felt the skin of my face tightening as my vampiric instincts once again came to the surface despite my efforts to suppress it.
"Shar dormagyn udossa." Viconia whispered, her eyes widening in the dark as she suddenly froze with the first signs of fear appearing in her eyes.
I stopped and gazed into the dark, staring to the far end of the room in the attempt to see whatever it was that had left the slightest tremble of fear course though her. For a moment and even with my eyes I couldn't seem to see anything until one of the pillars seemed to move forward with the same sound of scraping echoing through the room.
Fear exploded behind my eyes and I stood, gaping at the realisation at what I was seeing. My suppression of my vampiric side had allowed me to see in the dark but didn't provide the full ability to hunt by heartbeats alone. In the second it took to realise the size of the monstrosity that we faced I was already cursing the way how I had supressed the one skill I had to detect it in advance. What I had initially believed to be a pillar was instead an enormous muscular leg, hoofed and reverse jointed and as thick as a tree trunk. The alpha male of the minotaur clan was half the size again of its breeding females and its thick pelt was a dark grey rather than deep brown, rippling with enormous strength that had allowed it to smash its way through metre thick doors with only the slightest of effort.
Six metres tall, it stood with its head hunched down due to the fact that it's enormous curved horns would scrape the ceiling if it straightened, and a head with a mouth filled with shovel like teeth capable of biting a man in half. A creature of such size must have struggled to travel through the relatively tiny confines of the tunnels leading to the surface and I realised almost immediately that it had been living down here and relying on its herd to keep it alive and fed. In the years since it had smashed through the doors into the throne room it had grown larger, until it was no longer capable of leaving its subterranean home.
Its hands were large enough to grip me entirely around the waist and chest, fingers as thick as my arms and everything was rippling with primal strength that seemed fully capable of picking up a knight and his warhorse and crushing them without any undue effort. It was enormous, overwhelmingly powerful and extremely angry at our presence.
Snorting with rage, eyes narrowed and bloodshot it stomped forward, making the earth shake with every step. Three tonnes of muscle and bone moved towards us, reaching out and grabbing one of the statues with both hands before ripping it out of the floor, pedestal and all.
"Gi'vith!" Viconia shouted, diving to the side as the angry minotaur titan rushed forward swinging the three metre length of sculpted marble like a club. The impact rocked through the ground and up into our bodies with the sheer force and I felt dozens of stone fragments bounce off my armour as I too dived for cover.
For such an oversized brute it moved like lightning and struck with the full power of a hurricane. Even wielding such a mass of stone it was only my vampiric abilities and Viconia's elven grace that allowed us to survive more than a second against it. Ducking down and sliding across the floor I felt the buffeting winds of the impromptu bludgeon miss me by less than a metre as it pulverised the floor where I had been standing in another explosion of marble shards.
The crackling, surging energies surrounding Viconia illuminated her in a gleaming halo of witch-light, her eyes blazing with the power that she called upon in a series of gestures that looked more akin to a dance than incantation. Unfortunately, the threat that she posed was not lost on the semi-sapient creature and ripping its club from the floor it turned to face her.
Roaring with the power of the spell she thrust her hands out, fingers twisting and weaving through the air as she directed a blast of energy right into its face and chest. I watched, awestruck by the power that she had at her command as the minotaur rocked back from the impact, shielding it's face with its free hand and bellowing as its flesh began to sizzle. What would've killed the others on the surface or utterly obliterated a human did little more than infuriate the titan that redoubled its efforts to kill us both.
She dived out of the way again as it swung the now ruined statue and pedestal, utterly annihilating the two she stood between and only just missing her by the narrowest of margins. Sprinting as fast as she could she weaved between the other statues, putting as much cover between her and the charging creature as possible. It barrelled through everything in its path, legs pumping like pistons and shattering bricks under its cloven feet with earthshaking force. Before I knew what I was doing I found myself sprinting after it in an attempt to catch it before it caught Viconia, matching its roars with vampiric ones of my own.
Ducking into an alcove she narrowly missed being pulverised into nothing by a wild swing, instead sliding into cover as it's makeshift cudgel shattered in its grasp. A fist larger than my chest slammed into the tiny hole, missing the Drow only because of her agility and struggling to grab her lithe body. Slicing away with the gleaming edge of Dragonbane, a finger fell to the floor but the owner of the digit didn't even seem to notice it's loss. However, it did feel the fact that one of its legs suddenly went limp and nerveless.
Hacking into a massive calf muscle like I was swinging an axe into a tree truck I slammed Sunchild deep until it was stopped by bone. Its hamstring severed, it suddenly dropped to a knee bellowing with such force that my eardrums nearly burst and my chest vibrated with the sheer intensity of the sound. Realising the threat it swiped across the ground, flinging the ruined remnants of yet another sculpture across the room but missing me as I moved closer to its enormous bulk.
As it fell to its knees with a second hamstring severed another roaring wave of energy hit it in the face again, exploding an eye into jelly and shattering a horn at the root. Viconia was violently powerful, matching the creature's brute strength with unrestrained power, calling upon her magicka reserves as I attacked it with Sunchild.
Caught between the two of us the creature finally succumbed to the injuries being heaped upon it. Both legs had their muscles severed, arms were cut and gashed deeply and Viconia's magical assault finally began to wear it down until it finally collapsed from the pain and damage wrought upon its body. Both Viconia and I were left panting and kneeling with exhaustion as it finally died, the twin points of Sunchild and Dragonbane lodged deep into heart and brain and blood pooling in thick, hot lakes ankle deep between the shattered statues and ruined stonework.
"Nindol eighinn usstan gultah ulu dos isto'sunduiri." Viconia gasped through heaving breaths. Tiny streams of blood trickled from the minor cuts and abrasions from flying stone on her face and one of my ears was bleeding from the creature's roars, but otherwise neither of us were seriously injured.
I tried to rise to my feet but failed to do so the first time, pushing up with my hands on my knees and sucking in the dusty air that was clogged with death and the smell of minotaur. "That is not something I want to go through again."
Viconia's laugh was open but honest and sent a ripple of pleasure up my spine. It was a laugh of relief and surprise at finding oneself alive against all odds and she regarded me with a strange expression.
"Neither do I, but I am glad that we both are effective in battle."
"You're putting that mildly." We both laughed for a few moments as I managed to drag Sunchild from the tree-trunk of a torso. "Who do you think killed it? Me or you?"
"Me of course." Her usual arrogance reappeared once more but there was the tiniest amount of amusement in her eyes. "Don't worry yourself too much. I will tell everyone we meet that you helped."
I chuckled darkly and she watched with interest as I hacked into the creature's throat after pulling her own blade from an eyesocket. It took a considerable amount of effort but finally I managed to separate the enormous head from its bullish neck.
"I hope you don't expect me to help you carry that." She said simply, watching as I groaned under the weight from simply moving the head away from the body and coating myself in gore.
"No. I'll carry it. But you will have to help carry something else." With a wicked grin I drew my tiny skinning dagger, and set to work shearing off a considerable chuck of pelt from the creature's muscular back.
With our grisly trophies prepared the two of us gave a brief search of the throne room and were surprised at what we discovered. Long since locked away by the Ayleids, the treasures of their local kingdom had been locked away in the antechambers connecting to the throne room. While most were mostly worthless, the ancient silk and other fabrics had turned to dust there was a surprising amount of precious gemstones and milted coinage of a type I had never seen before. The doors that the minotaur titan had smashed through had protected these treasures for thousands of years from the various robbers and adventurers who had tried their luck with such a place. Laughing and eyes lighting with a burning greed Viconia had stuffed every stone that caught her eyes into her pouches and I did little to stop her as I was too busy doing the exact same thing. Several lifetimes of a legionary's salary were stuffed into every pouch and fold of our clothing and equipment and I could feel the significant weight of such treasures weighing down on me almost as much as their physical weight.
Most of the treasures were too large or bulky or heavy for us to carry, artefacts and items forged from precious metals were scattered about in the reliquaries or containers and although it pained me to leave such valuable objects behind we soon had more riches than we had ever expected.
With a sled made from branches and the ruins of my cloak we returned to the surface, dragging the immense head of the titan covered by a large section of its pelt behind me. The head alone weighed over half my bodyweight, and as I puffed and swore and pulled on the makeshift sled I was left aching and panting with the effort through the hours of the afternoon. It had only been a couple of hours past midday when we arrived in the ruins and by the time we had finished dragging the evidence of our kill back to the village night had fallen and the clouds above our heads had broken into a drizzling autumn shower.
As night had darkened the landscape those in the village had retired to their homes and families, or in most cases had travelled to the lone tavern at the central square. There was a dark mood across the village that had nothing to do with the weather and more to do with recent deaths and the loud cries of amusement and drunkenness echoing from within the lit dining hall.
Viconia and I stopped outside, feeling the rain pattering off our armoured shoulders and uncovered faces. Despite the increasing chill I was sweating profusely from the effort of dragging the heavy head of the minotaur titan, feeling the salt sting the eyes as the rain washed it from my forehead and hair. The blood and gore that covered us was no longer congealed into our flesh and chainmail but was gradually being sluiced off by the constant, showering rain. We were exhausted, bedraggled and sore but we were buoyed by our success just as much as our anger was increasing from the sounds coming within the well-lit tavern.
The door creaked as we pushed our way inside and I staggered under the weight of the decapitated head as I slung it over onto my back, holding onto its remaining horn with both hands. Without my vampiric strength there would be no way that I would have been able to lift or carry it for an y distance greater than a metre and my rising anger was enough fuel to push me through the last dozen metres and into the warm dry interior.
Inside the tavern's dining hall, the other members of the guild were well on the path to drunken excess. The five of them spending the time raucously laughing, drinking and playing dice on one of the several tables in the room and completely blind to the hostile stares of the rest of the patrons. Most of the villagers were within the tavern, staring at the tiny group of armoured fighters with building hatred that was steadily increasing the longer they stayed in town and with every mouthful of potent liquor they consumed. Completely ignorant to the opinions of those around them none of the cowardly sell swords realised that the likelihood of blood being split during the night was steadily increasing. Viconia and I found ourselves facing the sight of them dragging one of the tavern maids over, relieving her of several flagons of alcohol destined for other patrons and becoming a little too physical with her for both our tastes.
Several of the farmers had risen from their seats where they had been staring over their mugs of wheat alcohol at the way they started treating the young barmaid and a glint of a caneknife appeared in the dark as it was drawn from a belt. The building tension suddenly ceased at Viconia's and my appearances in the doorway, fully armoured and dripping with blood and water as everyone stopped and openly gaped.
Maglir recognised us first despite the drunken haze that was infusing his sight from hours of drinking. He stood from his chair, tipping over slightly and supporting himself with one hand on the table while the other thrust a sloshing flagon in our direction. "Brother! Sister! I am so glad you decided to give up that pointless contract and join us!"
Neither of us said anything as we stomped our way over to their table, ignoring the cries of surprise from the others in the room as they saw what it was that I was carrying. The drunken fools at the table they couldn't see what I had over my shoulder and their looks of confusion at our silence and darkened expressions increased with every pace. The Altmer with a hand hidden within the barmaid's dress let her go as we approached, a hand dropping to a dagger on his belt as they realised that we were not in the mood for talk or joining them in their activities.
Their weariness was suddenly replaced with terror and shock as I roared with effort, slinging the head by the horn and slamming its full weight into the centre of their table with a crash of broken wood and jingling coins as they were scattered across the floorboards. A pair of legs snapped cleanly, catapulting flagons and their contents over a pair of the fighters as the enormous head simply fell into their laps.
Maglir dropped onto his rear, scrabbling away from the bloody trophy and staring into its dead face. One eye was leaking jelly and its tongue lolling loose in an opened maw large enough to fit his head in. Teeth were shattered in its jaw, shreds of flesh dangling from the severed neck and watery blood had splattered everyone within a metre of where it had landed.
"Contract completed." I growled.
