I should have known better than to entrust a task of vital importance to a group of common thugs. It is not as if I had a choice, however; reinforcements from Alinor will not be along for quite a long while.
It has been two weeks since the infiltrator informed me of the Dragonborn's homes throughout Skyrim. Proudspire Manor was ransacked, and nothing found there. Vlindrel Hall was a little harder to search, considering the Forsworn that threaten the entire region, but that turned up nothing. The thugs say they haven't been able to get into Breezehome yet, but I believe they're stalling for time. I informed them of the other two homes - Hjerim and Honeyside - but they insist that they have 'a method to the madness'. More like they want to get paid to do absolutely nothing.
If they don't have a report on Breezehome, I'm getting rid of them permanently. Skyrim doesn't need such ineptitude plaguing it any longer.
-Vindicator Saarie
Question of the Week - If Alduin was the alleged 'First Born' of Akatosh, does that mean the Divine had other young?
With a heavy sigh, Elenwen leaned back in her seat in the Frozen Hearth.
She wasn't sure what Runael had said when she'd mentioned 'if the College doesn't let you in'... but the Altmer at the entrance seemed deadset against letting Elenwen into the College. Something about 'don't need newcomers causing trouble while the Arch-Mage is away'; Elenwen didn't particularly care.
So until she could figure it out, she was staying at the inn, waiting for Runael to return.
The pain of Runael's sudden departure two weeks prior still stung Elenwen, and she closed her eyes. Just like before, Runael had left without saying a word directly to Elenwen, leaving only a letter in way of explanation. Even though the wording was different... Elenwen couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding about Runael's last departure. Was she running from Elenwen? Did she really have something to do with Irileth? Questions and doubts plagued Elenwen's mind, and she rested her forehead upon her crossed arms.
She missed Alinor. She missed the peace, the tranquility. She missed the warmth of home, and above all, she missed being surrounded by friends and family. More than once since her disgrace reached Alinor's ears, she worried that her friends and family viewed her as a laughingstock. Thellias and Saarie had all but demoted her to the lowest rung on the ladder...
She shook her head. No, I'm not with the Dominion any longer. I can't... can't think like that. They'd brand me a traitor if they ever found me... Saarie's too intuitive to overlook my disappearance the night of the attack. She lifted her head, and gazed at the wall absently.
There was so much worrying her, she hadn't been able to get a full night's sleep. She could close her eyes, and she could doze... but her first 'dream' always woke her for one reason or another, and she couldn't get back to sleep. She had become exceptionally jumpy, as well, flinching at the smallest of sudden noises - such as the small explosions that occasionally sounded from the room of the other mer... Nelacar, she remembered the innkeeper called him.
Vaermina, why must you torment me so? she wondered idly. A moment later, she wondered if the Daedric Prince really had a part in her current state of suffering and general sleeplessness. Perhaps it was all simply herself: paranoid that the Dominion was after her, plagued with doubts and uncertainties surrounding Runael, and being denied entry into the College... all were major factors affecting her mind.
The only real comfort she'd had in the past two weeks was knowing that Adalla and Mia kept her safe all the way to Winterhold. While she had started the journey from the Nightgate Inn to Winterhold alongside En'zhar and Najati as well, they had parted ways where the road split, bound for Windhelm - and a new carriage. No doubt they'd be returning to their small camp in the Reach.
A small mewling made her jump, and her attention was snapped to the saber kitten that was now starting to nuzzle her side affectionately. Despite her situation, Elenwen couldn't fight back the smile as she saw the adorable animal once more, and reached out to scratch behind its ear gently. She still hadn't thought of a name for the saber kitten, and had decided that 'dear' was sufficed until she could.
As the kitten purred and nuzzled her hand, her mind went back to when Mia and Adalla had seen the saber kitten for the first time. Both thought it was adorable, but Elenwen had been appalled that Mia wanted her to abandon it. 'It's just goin' t'grow up t'kill people anyway. Ya sure ya wanna be there when it starts?' Mia had said at the time.
The people of the Frozen Hearth Inn had been rather uneasy at first, when they recognized the kitten for what it was, but over the past few days, they'd grown accustomed to the adorable bundle of fur with endless curiosity. Even Nelacar seemed to tolerate it poking its head into his room while he did... whatever it was he did; he hadn't snapped at the kitten in a few days' time, at any rate.
The door of the inn opened, and several pairs of eyes - including those of the ever-curious saber kitten and its owner - were drawn to the person who stepped inside. Elenwen's breath caught in her throat, and she did the best she could to hide her face from view. This can't be happening... not now... she thought, mortified.
"Innkeep! A bottle of mead, if you'd be so kind." The individual who'd entered the inn was undoubtedly a mer - though he was clad, head to toe, in ebony armor. When the helm was pulled off, graying hair was visible. "I'm feeling generous, so a bottle for everyone."
Elenwen shivered, and not simply because the door had been opened.
She was trying to figure out why Thellias was in Winterhold.
They had become something akin to 'regulars' at the Nightgate Inn over the past two weeks.
Irileth and Runael had both delved into the cavern that the Dunmer had visited previously several times now; each evening, they returned to the inn to try and decipher a multitude of mysterious writings they'd found within the ruined abode hidden within.
"It doesn't make any sense," Runael muttered, turning their latest page - she and Irileth had taken to calling these pages 'fragments', as they seemed to be part of something bigger - idly upon the table. "Why would the lich want a 'healthy' form again? Does this mean the transformation into lich wasn't voluntary, or does he regret the decision?"
"It was most certainly voluntary, the way he taunted Jarl Balgruuf and I," Irileth responded, fingers idly pushing around a bottle of Black-Briar Mead upon the table. "He didn't seem the type to regret the choice, either. Of course, years have passed since then..."
They both fell silent, and began to peruse the other fragments, as if reading them again would bring something new to light.
"...Maybe he wanted to blend in," Runael offered after a moment. "To spread his wicked influence throughout Skyrim - maybe Tamriel - and couldn't blend in because he looked the part of 'undead fiend'."
"It's not impossible," Irileth conceded. "Surely he could do such things without actually blending in, though...?"
"I don't like the thought of a lich walking among us as if he were actually living and breathing, either," Runael said with a nod. "Maybe that deception was part of the allure..."
Silence settled between them for a moment, and after several longer moments had passed, Runael began to sort the fragments into what she and Irileth surmised to be the 'proper' order.
"We've been at this for weeks. We've scoured the ruin thoroughly, tapped every rock in hopes it unlocks a secret passage... and this is all we've found." Irileth sounded bitter. "There's no sign of what happened to him, or where he went."
"Yet the fact that there were skeletons and draugr wandering the place suggest he doesn't want anyone else to find something," Runael added. "I get the feeling he wasn't particularly torn up about leaving these fragments behind, or else he wouldn't have."
"You want to keep at it." Irileth sounded annoyed.
"You don't." Runael sounded amused.
"Of course I don't. This has nothing to do with saving Whiterun from that wicked little b- pardon, your sister."
Housecarl and Arch-Mage were both silent a moment longer.
"Then let's make for Whiterun."
Irileth blinked. Surely Runael hadn't just suggested...? "You're serious."
"And you're scared."
"I don't want to throw my life away so carelessly!" Irileth hissed.
"Yet you don't want to try and get to the bottom of this lich problem." Runael crossed her arms, eyes upon Irileth - and seemingly quite judgemental. "You worry about Whiterun, but don't want to go back. You'll eventually need to."
"I'm fully aware of that," she snapped. "I'd rather return with some sort of back-up, though, just in case things spiral out of control with the Thalmor."
The inn door was pulled open, and a pair of travelers stepped inside. They were talking between themselves, and neither elf paid much attention to them. The pair of newcomers approached the counter to speak with the innkeeper.
"I don't make the suggestion lightly," Runael said quietly. She gestured toward the fragments. "I can tell he tried to be careful not to leave any clues, but he overlooked one. That one page, where he references 'the heart of the frozen north'... Whiterun is as central to Skyrim as it gets. Perhaps there's something there."
Irileth looked disturbed, though whether by the thought of returning, or of something involving the lich being present in her home, even she was uncertain.
"We would have to be careful, I agree. I'd rather not draw undue attention to myself, just to be safe - there's no telling if the rest of the Thalmor have been made aware of my defection - and to them, you're a fugitive. Still, it's a chance to investigate what little we have... and it's also an opportunity for you to check on Jarl Balgruuf, make sure he's still alive and well."
The thought of seeing the Jarl again was just a little relaxing. And if she could get that far with Runael in tow... "Do you have a plan to get us in?"
"Is there any way we could slip into the city undetected?"
"Mia-"
"Let me go, dammit! I weren't done with the lousy bastard!" Mia struggled against Adalla's arms, which were currently holding her from behind in a vice-like grip.
"I let you go, and you'll just try to kill him," she said with a sigh. "I appreciate the thought, but he's not worth you ending up in jail."
"He called you 'trash', Adalla!" Mia shouted. "No one calls me best friend 'trash'!"
"Like I said, I appreciate the thought." Adalla tightened her hold as Mia thrashed a bit fiercer. "You already broke his nose, though; you're lucky the guards weren't around."
"Let me at him, and I can break his neck," Mia growled.
They were both outside Windhelm's gates. Adalla had forcibly dragged Mia out of the city after she had beaten the Nord, Rolff Stone-Fist, rather soundly over a comment he had made about the elf. She'd been flattered by her friend's defensive nature, but honestly didn't want her to end up in jail for murdering him... which she knew Mia would do, if she was given the chance.
"I let you go, and you'll do more than break his neck," Adalla said; she'd become rather weary over the past half hour of holding Mia in place.
"Bastard deserves-"
"He deserves nothing," Adalla said sternly, "save for whatever comes to him naturally. His fate is not for you to decide."
The words seemed to have a greater effect on Mia than Adalla had realized it would, for she stopped struggling and heaved a resigned sigh. "Yer right..." Mia mumbled. "Sorry fer bein' trouble..."
"I... it's fine." Adalla was caught off-guard; was this a new tactic, to try and get her to relax her hold, so that Mia could break free and kill Rolff? Or was this a genuine apology? "If I let you go, are you going to chase him-"
"Down? Nah." Mia wiggled a little in Adalla's vice-like grip. "Much easier fer me t'poison his drink when he ain't lookin'."
"Mia..." Adalla was at her wit's end.
"I was jokin'," Mia said with a chuckle. "This time..." she added with a mumble under her breath.
Adalla's ears were too sharp for that to go unnoticed, however. "We're leaving, and gods help me if I ever let you return to Windhelm," she grumbled.
"Hey! I said I were jokin'! I ain't had a chance t'do business with Niranye yet!" Mia protested.
"It's evening. The market stalls are closed. We spend the night in Candlehearth Hall, you'll kill that Nord... and then you'll end up in jail, and I'll end up stuck here, waiting for you to be released." Adalla began to try and drag Mia away from the city. "Now-"
"Ya'd wait fer me?" Mia asked, sounding genuinely appreciative.
"I..." Adalla rolled her eyes. "That's not to say I approve of you killing him because he said something offensive. Don't you go misunderstanding me."
Silence settled between them. Adalla eventually let go of Mia, though she was very slow in doing so.
"Why is it ya don't seem t'care what all he said 'bout ya?" Mia finally asked.
"Because words are words, and he seemed drunk besides." Adalla offered a small shrug. "Besides, he called me a 'dark elf lover' - and honestly, I'm not. I don't hate the Dunmer, but I don't particularly like them, either. Let him believe whatever he wants; whatever helps him get through a day in his miserable existence."
Mia chuckled softly at Adalla's words. "Fair enough, I s'pose. Alright, I ain't gonna kill him... so let's go back in? Startin' t'freeze out here."
Adalla found it odd Mia said so, considering they were standing next to a blazing brazier. Still... "Promise me you won't so much as glare at him."
"Fine, fine, I pro-"
"You there." The new voice was unexpected, and made both of them jump. They both turned to face... the oddest pair they'd ever laid eyes upon. They wore strange robes, and even stranger masks... "Are you the one they call 'Dragonborn'?"
Mia tensed very visibly at the term, and Adalla wondered wildly what was going on. "I ain't got a clue what yer goin' on 'bout, so keep on goin' 'fore I split yer skulls in half," she growled.
"Do not lie to us," the first stranger - a female, from the sounds of it - snarled. "You cannot deceive us, pretender."
"Let me put that another way, then... get out of my face 'fore I cave yers in. I'm havin' a rough evenin', and yer just lookin' t'get killed at this rate."
"Mia, how...?" Adalla's voice was nothing more than a hushed whisper.
"Enough." The mask-wearing woman drew her dagger and stepped toward Mia and Adalla. "You have not denied being Dragonborn, and that is enough for me. When I separate your head from your shoulders and bring it back with me, I know that I will have earned Lord Miraak's favor."
"Last mistake yer ever gonna make in your short, short life," Mia growled angrily. She took a deep breath...
"Orders?" The Regent blinked in surprise.
"Correct, ma'am." The Dominion courier handed a scroll bearing the Dominion's seal to her. "You are to return to the Embassy as soon as possible, as well as the contingent of guards that serve you."
She took the scroll, broke the seal, and unfurled it so she could read it.
Agent Vernanye,
You are hereby instructed to cede control of Whiterun and return to the Embassy west of Solitude.
We were recently attacked, and our own numbers are admittedly thin. We are vulnerable here at the Embassy, and if we fall, you will be surrounded on all sides, with no hope of reinforcement. I would not visit such a disaster upon you and the guards with you.
You are hereby given the authority to appoint a ruler in your stead. I strongly discourage returning Balgruuf the Greater to his position, though I believe that goes without saying nonetheless.
For the Dominion!
-Vindicator Saarie
She glanced up at the courier. "Well... Thank you for delivering the message. I shall return to the Embassy as soon as I am able."
The courier saluted, and departed only when Vernanye returned the salute.
"As soon as you are able, or as soon as you cure yourself?" Her husband's voice reached her ears only once the courier was out of Dragonsreach.
"You know the answer to that, my love," she replied, turning to face him near the foot of the stairs. "Of course I'm going to cure myself of this... damnable existence before I return to the Embassy. I suspect Saarie would kill me herself if I showed up like this."
He stepped toward her, and gently took the scroll from her hands. He read it, then glanced up at her a moment. "So who are you planning to appoint?"
"That's a challenge in and of itself..." She frowned a bit. "We've occupied Whiterun for far too long - long enough that anyone I appoint will take measures to ensure we are incapable of ever setting a foot in Whiterun again without an army backing us." She gazed at her husband a moment. "I'd appoint you, but you have your own matters to attend to."
"Flattering," he said, rolling his eyes. "I always dreamed of ruling a hostile city and making its people love me."
She laughed softly at his words, then fell silent as she lost herself in thought. "...Were you in my position, love, who would you appoint?"
"Someone who sympathizes with the Dominion," he said almost immediately. "Unfortunately, I can think of no one who fits the description... you shouldn't give it to a Battle-Born or Grey-Mane, either. They would instantly join the side they support in this civil war of theirs, and things would very rapidly begin to devolve from there."
She nodded at his words. "I know. I wasn't even considering them."
He handed the scroll back to her. "She has given you no simple task, that's for certain. It's not bad enough she's asking you to give up Whiterun..."
Vernanye sighed heavily. "She wants me to replace myself as well," she said, finishing his thought. "The people of Whiterun may hate me, but they cannot deny I've done well enough keeping their city functioning properly. I dare say I've reduced crime far further than Balgruuf ever did in his lifetime."
"Such modesty," her husband teased.
A thought suddenly occurred to her, and a small smile played at her lips. "Tell me, my love... have you visited Jorrvaskr yet?"
Adalla only watched as Mia lifted her sword over the woman - encased completely in ice. With a malicious snarl and a growl of fury, Mia plunged the blade through the woman's neck, killing her almost instantly. A cry of agony filled the air, and lasted as long as the woman remained alive.
"Y'alright?" Mia asked, turning her gaze to Adalla. She bore several cuts from their assailants' daggers, but wasn't as concerned about herself as she was about the Altmer.
"I'll be fine..." Adalla said, nursing a gash in her side. The woman's companion had managed to slip his own dagger through her armor, and reminded her in the process that the armor was well-worn - perhaps too much so. "It's not fatal. It hurts... that's all."
Mia stepped on the male's lifeless chest roughly, then kicked his severed head away with no small amount of malice. "They crossed me at the wrong time," she grumbled.
"Mia... I swear to you, I told no one about-"
"I know ya didn't," Mia said quietly. "Ya been with me since ya learned 'bout that particular... well, y'know. I know ya ain't the one what told 'em. That don't explain how they knew, though..." She reached into her pack and pulled out a pair of healing potions, and handed one to Adalla. "It ain't gonna close the wound instantly, but it'll stop the bleedin' and make the pain mostly go away. I'll take care of it shortly."
A wind blew over the bridge, causing both women to shiver in the chill it brought about. Adalla noticed something then: something on the woman's corpse was fluttering in the wind. "What's...?" She pointed at the thing in question.
Mia followed Adalla's finger, and moved to poke at the fluttering item. "Note, looks like..." She gripped it and pulled it from the woman's body, then opened it and glanced it over. "...Gonna admit, I don't understand half'a what's on this thing..." She handed the note to Adalla, and reached into her pack again. "Here, I'll tend yer wound while ya read it t'me."
Adalla shook her head. "First, let's get to the inn. You'll need my armor off for that, and I'd rather not be so exposed..."
"Ya trust I won't kill that bastard?" Mia said, grinning wryly.
"You just killed these two... cultists," she offered, after giving the note a quick glance. "I'd say that you've vented your frustrations."
Mia chuckled at her friend's words.
It had taken a little while, but Elenwen had managed to slip out of the inn. She was reasonably sure Thellias hadn't identified her, but didn't want to stick around and give him the opportunity to do just that.
In truth, she was missing the warmth of the inn already. The chill of Skyrim pierced through to her bones, and she worried she would freeze to death very soon. Her eyes flicked to the College once again, and she debated trying her luck once more. Thellias wouldn't try visiting the College... would he?
With no other destination in mind, Elenwen began to move toward the College. She saw the familiar Altmer from before standing near the top of the steps, and wondered how she could tolerate simply standing there, in the biting cold.
Her thoughts were interrupted when the tip of a blade was pressed against her lower back, eliciting a gasp. "You thought me blind? Oblivious, perhaps? Saarie informed me of what happened at the Embassy, and told me of her suspicions." The tip was pressed just a little closer to Elenwen's back, making her whimper in equal parts pain - for she was sure the blade had pierced her skin - and terror.
"You know where En'zhar is. You will tell me everything I wish to know... including the current location of Runael." Thellias' voice was like ice, and Elenwen was fairly certain she had just been turned to ice from the inside out from his tone alone.
"The Companions?" Vernanye's husband repeated.
She nodded. "Think about it. They're well-respected, and certainly have the best interests of Whiterun in mind. They're neutral in the civil war. No one in the city will complain that the most respected group of warriors in Skyrim has been put in charge of Whiterun. Perhaps their opinion of the Dominion will change, as well."
"You don't really believe that," he mused.
She laughed at his comment. "No, I suppose not. Still, it's nice to hope."
He thought about her decision. "It's almost perfect... except... what if they give control back to Balgruuf?"
"Then Whiterun simply goes back to the way it was before Runael outed that priest. If Whiterun doesn't want to be involved in the war, they'll stick with the Companions, and be opposed to Balgruuf being reinstated."
"What makes you say that?"
"The Companions are respected throughout Skyrim, by the Legion and Stormcloaks both. If they're in charge, both sides will suddenly not want to siege the city; the side that moves against Whiterun first will be seen as villains for opposing the Companions. Both sides need Whiterun if they're going to win their little war; neither side will want to make a bold move to take the city, however."
"Then diplomacy."
"And therein lies the Companions' neutrality. They want nothing to do with the war, at all. Diplomacy will fail as a result, and ultimately, one side or the other will need to take the city by force... and risk much in the process." She smiled at the brilliance of her choice. "We can't put a Dominion sympathizer in the throne without running the risk of them getting killed by Whiterun's citizenry, but we can drag out this war far longer with the right decision."
He wrapped his arms around Vernanye and held her close. "I've always loved the way that mind of yours works, my dear..." he murmured.
"Even that time I caught on to your little scheme back in Alinor?" she said with a wink.
He winked at her. "Even then, though I had an odd way of showing it."
"I'll say." Her arms draped over his shoulders and crossed behind his neck. "All's forgiven, of course."
"Only because I let you in on it," he reminded her.
She cracked a grin, revealing one of her fangs in the process.
He eyed the fang, and let out a small sigh. With notable reluctance, he let go of her. "I can't... it's... it's still unnerving..."
She looked a bit put out at that, but nodded her understanding nonetheless. "Well, fortunately, I won't be like this much longer." She let go of him in turn. "So you'll be heading to Riften, I take it? 'Guild business', and all that?"
"I will, but only because I get the feeling I won't be welcome in the Embassy." He shook his head wearily, as if upset that he couldn't stay with his wife. "Why the Dominion is so adamant to keep outsiders just so is beyond me..."
She moved quickly to press a brief kiss to his lips. The loving gesture caught him off-guard, and he blinked in blatant surprise. "Give Brynjolf my best?"
He nodded, still looking a little dazed at the sudden kiss. "Of course." He reached up to touch his lips briefly. "That's... the first time since I've arrived in Skyrim..."
"It won't be the last. If your business takes you to Solitude, send me a letter... and we'll see if we can't mix pleasure with business..."
Eorlund,
Something's changing in Dragonsreach. Damned if I know for certain, but it seems like her grip on Whiterun is... slipping. She recently had me moved from isolation to a normal cell, and hinted with her last visit that I may see the light of day again sometime soon. She wouldn't emphasize.
I heard about the failed attack on Dragonsreach a while back. Have you seen or heard from the rest of my family since then? I haven't seen any traces of them here in the dungeon, but there didn't seem to be any indicator from the Thalmor bitch that they were dead, either.
Hopefully, I'll be out of this wretched place soon, and we can get back to trying to get rid of the Thalmor... not just from Whiterun, but perhaps all of Skyrim.
-O. B-B
A.N. - And here's the second. I can't say with certainty 'two chapters at once' is going to become a thing to expect, though.
I never did like Rolff. His attitude toward any player character was just ridiculous, and even after I beat the hell out of him, I still disliked him - especially when he treats you like a 'friend'. I just beat the hell out of you, idiot; we are NOT buddy-buddy, under any circumstance! I do so wish he wasn't essential... I'd like to figure out why he is. I could just as easily tweak the game with the Creation Kit so I don't ever have to deal with him... but eh. Such a mod seems far too small and inconsequential. (I say that, but there are so many mods involving Nazeem on ...) Mia having an altercation with him was just fitting for me.
Yes, I did more or less kick off the Dragonborn questline for Mia. No, it won't develop in Flames. I may do it as a stand-alone story, simply because I had so much fun playing through Dragonborn with Mia, imagining how she would react to each and every situation. And, yes, if I do write a stand-alone version, Adalla will be there, too. At least, she'll be there when Mia's not in Apocrypha.
Runael abandoning Elenwen like she did, last chapter... their reunion was not planned to be a permanent sort. It was oddly entertaining to write up their reunion, and with a small sense of deja vu, separate them again. Does that make me a twisted man? If so, I'm alright with this.
I haven't played ESO for a while. Not because I'm disinterested, but because I simply cannot find the time nowadays. Leuran hasn't seen much action lately. I did upgrade so I could create an Imperial character, and did just that - an Imperial Dragonknight I named Liza Varrium. Provided I can actually find time, Liza will become my main. Redguard Nightblade, while fun in theory, has been one frustration after another - especially when it's come to trying to solo certain enemies. I eventually did defeat one of my bigger challenges, but I used up all my soul gems in the process - and I do mean ALL OF THEM. I died several more times before I downed him. It was... anti-climactic when I received so very little in the way of reward for such an annoying fight. (It might not help that I was a few levels below him, but eh...)
-Spiritslayer