Chapter 21 - Hunting the knowledge

Lydia

Evening of 7th Hearth Fire, near the borders between Falkreath and the Rift

We were camping out in the woods near the ruins of Helgen. Nothing really happened since we left Nilheim along with the Khajiit cousins. As in, no attacking wolf packs, no ambushes by bandits, nothing of the sort. Still, things still were far from okay. The mood was solemn and none of us talked much. It seemed that what happened in Nilheim left its mark on all of us.

I'm no stranger to being beaten, or in pain. But that was the first time I truly felt helpless, unable to do anything. We all fell to Telrav's dirty trick and were taken captive. It was pure luck we managed to get out... though it wasn't enough to keep Falaere from being drugged and violated by that criminal refuse. And I nearly ended up like her.

True, we got our revenge and slaughtered Telrav's entire clan though now it seemed like a small comfort.

The Wood elf barely said a word since we left the ruined castle. Even normally she wasn't much of a talker but now... It seemed like if she wasn't really with us. The ordeal she was put through must've affected her more than I thought. I mean, the first thing she did after the drugs wore out was to torture and kill Telrav. To this moment I didn't know what exactly she did to him... and I didn't even care to. Something like that would make one think that she coped well with all that, or as well as it was even possible after being raped for Gods-know-how-long.

But what I've seen so far seemed to prove otherwise.

As soon as we set up our camp, Falaere announced she'd keep watch for the next few hours, slipping into the woods before any of us could say anything. I thought at first that maybe she needed some time alone. Still, the way she acted rubbed me the wrong way. The two of us never really saw eye to eye; blame my paranoia since I was a housecarl, I had a Thane to protect and the Wood Elf was an unkown. I knew next to nothing about her which made her a possible risk.

But none of that mattered now.

Some time later I decided to go and find her. She wasn't in the right state of mind, who knew what she might do...

I excused myself and headed into the woods, leaving the Dragonborn and the Khajiit cousins at the camp.

It was getting dark and wandering around alone could be dangerous. But the forest was quiet, it was safe to say we were alone for now. Finding Falaere proved to be a tougher task than I imagined, though. I couldn't see her anywhere; it was like if she vanished into thin air. Calling out her name certainly wasn't a good idea since I'd attract unwanted attention but that almost failed to stop me from trying if it weren't for me tripping over a pair of boots lying on the moss covered ground.

"You know, you make yourself look like a complete fool, stumbling around here like that."

The familiar voice, bearing the barest hint of amusement, came from above, prompting me to look up. Sure enough, there she was, sitting on a thick low branch of an old massive linden tree and wielding a bow. The tree's large broad leaves served to mask her presence well.

Had she decided to remain quiet, I would've never noticed her.

"What are you doing here?" Falaere asked in a flat tone. "It's not your turn to watch; you're a few hours too early."

"I know." I replied.

She leapt down from the branch that hung more than ten feet above the ground and landed safely on her bare feet. "Then why aren't you at the camp? Don't you have a Thane to protect?" There was no malice in her voice as far as I could tell.

"I won't be gone long. I just wanted to talk." The Dragonborn would be alright. He had his Thu'um and the company of the Khajiit cousins, nothing could possibly endanger him.

"Oh? What about?" The Wood elf intoned, crimson eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Well, uh... Mostly about you, I guess." I could face a raging troll or fight off a couple of bandits without any trouble. I didn't know what it was but something about that woman made me act like a nervous blabbering wreck. Damn it, me... "I, um, wanted to know how you're doing."

"Well enough, I suppose." She was visibly perplexed. "Why are you asking?"

Gods, why was this so difficult...?

"Just wanted to make sure, I mean... You've been quiet this whole day, more so than usual-"

"So was the rest of you, or am I wrong?" She interrupted flippantly. To be fair, she wasn't...

"I know! I guess we're all still coping with what happened back in castle Nilheim." I explained. "Just wanted to check on you, to make sure that-"

I trailed off when the Elf began chuckling quietly. "I think I can see what this is all about, housecarl." She drawled. "You're afraid the experiences at Nilheim left me emotionally unstable; that one day I just might snap and kill myself at the first opportunity or charge off recklessly into an uneven battle hoping to get killed." I tried not to show any signs of surprise on my part. Though these weren't necessarily the words I'd use myself, the way Falaere summed it up wasn't exactly wrong. Now I was more worried that I might've offended her. Who knew with this woman... "Sorry to disappoint you but I don't plan on doing that anytime soon."

I frowned at her remark. "Why should I be disappointed?"

"I recall you making it pretty clear that you don't trust me."

Oh... The conversation I had with the Dragonborn back in Sild's hideout. She must've heard us, then.

"And can you blame me?" I retorted. "I don't deal well with unknown; neither I nor my Thane actually no anything about you and it doesn't exactly raise my confidence when you do nothing to change it!"

Falaere gave me a look. "And have you considered there's a good reason why I don't talk about myself?" She countered.

"...Why?" That was the only thing I could say.

"That, sadly, is none of your business." The Elf said with finality. "We may travel together but are still little more than acquaintances. Thus I don't feel obligated to disclose my personal matters to you."

Fine, be that way. I told myself, deciding against pursuing this topic. But we did get off track, though. "Still, you're way too calm for someone who was put through... such ordeal." I wasn't going to say it specifically; even thinking about it revolted me. "I'm not sure if I like it..."

"I don't know why you're so concerned but don't be." Falaere sighed, leaning against the linden's thick trunk. "I'm fine, or at least, I will be. After all, it gets easier to cope with such ordeal when you've suffered through worse and survived."

I knew the Wood elf made it pretty clear she didn't like anyone prying into her personal affairs so I wasn't about to ask. But still, what could be worse than literally being drugged into compliance and then violated ceaselessly for hours? Who was this woman? What was she doing through all the years? So many questions swimming around in my mind, and I might never get the answers.

"Well, if you're sure, I'll just... let you get back to whatever you were doing." I said awkwardly and took a few steps back. "Just... If there are any trouble, let us know, alright?"

She had her back turned on me so I didn't see her face... but I just knew she was rolling her eyes. "I've been on the road for over twenty years and I'm still alive. I think I can make do without anyone babysitting me." The Elf then climbed swiftly back into the tree with a grace reminiscent of that of felines. "Go get some sleep while you still can; I'll let you know when is your turn to watch."

With nothing else to do, I returned back to our camp where Thane Farlas was having a conversation with Ra'zahirr.

"... so what you're saying is that even though there are so many Khajiit breeds, they all look the same when they're born?"

"Exactly! No one knows exactly why it is that way but the influence of the moons only shows later in life, as a cub grows."

I see I walked upon a cultural exchange... I couldn't stop the wry smirk forming on my lips.

"Still, it seems impossible that one cub in a litter grows up to look the same as a Wood elf while the other turns into this huge tiger-like... what did you call it? A S- Senche?"

"Senche-raht are even bigger, mind you; our kind use them as steeds sometimes." Ra'zahirr grinned. "Nevertheless, while our forms may vary, our intelligence does not. The Alfiq could be easily mistaken for common housecats, which would make them perfect spies."

"Gods, any more of this and I just might become paranoid." My Thane chuckled. "Who'd ever look for spies among house pets?"

"Fortunately for you, Alfiq do not venture outside Elsweyr, very much like many other Khajiit breeds."

I was inclined to agree. Elsweyr had allied with the Dominion decades ago. It would be bad if the Thalmor got the brilliant idea to plant these 'Alfiq' into the remaining sovereign territories. That is, if they haven't already...

It wasn't until I sat down at the campfire when Thane Farlas noticed me. "Where were you, Lydia?" He asked, not unkindly. "You vanished without as much as saying a word."

"I was around, checking the area was safe."

Much to my relief, he bought my lie. Well, the best lies are those which have a grain of truth to them, goes the old wisdom.

"I suppose another pair of eyes watching our backs is always useful."

"Anyway, I'll be the next to keep watch." I stated. "Speaking of which, where are we heading now?"

"To Whiterun. It's not like we have anywhere else to be. We still have to wait until De-" Farlas cut himself off mid-word. "Daphne tells us how to go about our excursion."

Of course, Delphine was a Blade, wanted by the Thalmor. It could be dangerous both to her and us to throw her name around carelessly. And we simply couldn't announce we were planning to break into the Thalmor embassy.

Let's hope the Khajiit didn't notice his slip of the tongue.

"So we're spending the next few weeks resting our haunches in the city, just waiting for the letter?" I questioned.

"I bet there are jobs the Jarl or anyone else in the city might need done. Enough to keep us busy. And..." The Thane heaved a sigh. "I guess I personally need some help as well."

"What do you mean?" I frowned.

"When I left Cyrodiil I thought my skill with the blade would be enough to survive in this land. It wasn't, as the fiasco in Nilheim proved." He grunted bitterly. "I need to get better at fighting, to get stronger. Even more so with the dragons flying about."

I could understand his reasoning. "So what's your plan, then?"

"I want to talk to the Companions, to see if they'd have me." He explained. "Since they're kind of like the Fighters Guild down in Cyrodiil, I figured there's a lot they could teach me."

"This one heard about the Companions." Ra'zahirr interjected. "They're reputed to be an honorable guild, although some consider them to be simply a mob of glorified mercenaries."

"Then they're wrong." I said perhaps a little more sharply then I intended. Calling the Companions 'mercenaries' was a travesty since they were a whole another class. I practically grew up on the stories about Companions and all their heroic and honorable deeds. Uncle Balgruuf was good friends with the members of the Circle, the senior Companions, and my father took fighting lessons from Kodlak Whitemane himself. I might've even joined them, had my father not disagreed so vehemently... In spite of that, I like to think I've done pretty well for myself.

"Everyone is entitled to their own opinions, even if they might be wrong." My Thane shrugged. "Anyway, the Companions could help me become a better fighter."

"The Companions don't accept just everyone in their ranks, with all due respect to your abilities." I pointed out. Take Uthgerd, for example. She was a strong and capable warrior so no one really doubted Kodlak wouldn't accept her. At least, not until she accidentally killed the guy who was to test her mettle. It was the lack of self-control that led to her being rejected in the end. Uthgerd was still pretty bitter about it, too.

"One of them extended an invitation to me. That has to account for something, right?"

That piqued my interest. "Which one?"

"Well, she never told me her name. But she has red hair, grey eyes and a warpaint on her face that looks like a claw mark."

Oh, I knew that one. "That's Aela. They call her The huntress; think you can imagine why." I explained. "She's a high-ranked member, so her word could have some weight among the Companions. Still, Kodlak makes the final decision so it's him you should worry about."

"Right, I'll keep that in mind." The Dragonborn nodded. "By the way, I should also look into adjusting that steel plate armor for you. And before you say something: you don't get to refuse, Lydia. Consider than an order."

I was tempted to... I had enough money to pay Adrianne to reforge the cuirass for me. I didn't want anyone's help with that; it was a matter of dignity.

On the other hand, I really wanted that steel plate armor... Maybe it would be better to just swallow my pride, this once.

Elaith

Morning of 8th Hearth Fire, Windhelm

"State your business, elf." The guardsman before me grunted, eyeing me with what could only be described as suspicion.

"I'm here to see the court wizard." I replied, trying not to roll my eyes at the man's attitude.

"Wuunferth?" The other guards scoffed. "What could he possible have to talk about with a goldskinned rat? I bet she's a Thalmor spy."

"I'm with the College of Winterhold, mister." I grounded out through clenched teeth, fighting the urge to hit someone. The nerve of that filthy, stinking, rotgut-guzzling pig... "The same institution Wuunferth used to work at, as you surely know."

"Bah, mages! That's exactly what we need here! Who can guarantee Windhelm won't crumble into dust once she enters?" The same man who accused me of being a spy jeered.

"That's enough, Ennar." The other guard snapped, effectively silencing him. Thankfully, if I heard one more word from that idiot, I just might've snapped... "Fine, you may enter. But remember, we'll have our eyes on you, so you better not do anything stupid while you're here, outsider." With one last scornful look, he stepped aside and let me through the gate.

Moments later, I stood in the large square surrounded by houses. The Candlehearth hall inn, situated right opposite of the front gate, seemed to dwarf every other building nearby.

I sighed as I beheld the place; everything built from ice cold stone and covered in a thick layer of blindingly white snow.

This was Windhelm, the city of Ysgramor.

I've been here before on business and I never much liked this city; it seemed so dreary, cold and unwelcoming, despite many Nords saying the opposite. That might've been true at some point but ever since Ulfric started his rebellion, things have been going from bad to worse around here. Now, Windhelm seemed to be drowning in paranoia and mistrust of strangers. Every newcomer would be suspect of being an Imperial spy and treated as such.

And it wasn't just the Empire that was the target of Stormcloaks' hatred. Now it was also the Dunmer, or Greyskins, as some Nords referred derisively to them, or any Mer in general, Khajiit, Argonians, or basically anyone who wasn't a Nord. So much for the ever-praised Nordic hospitality...

Best if I finished my business in here quickly and moved on.

Ignoring the dirty looks from the guardsmen and the city folk, I strode right to the Palace of the Kings. As a complete stranger I already drew some attention from the locals, especially when I wore mage robes. But as long as I didn't do anything to provoke them, they would leave me alone. Or I hoped so, at least.

Getting kicked out of Windhelm before even concluding my business with Wuunferth would be most inconvenient. Beside being one of the authorities on Destruction school of magic, he was also an avid historian, specializing in old Nordic lore. If anyone could tell me precisely what the World-Eater was, it would be him. Maybe I could catch him in an agreeable mood, if I were lucky.

Alas, luck was something I seemed to lack that day.

A Dunmer woman in a filthy dress ran past me, almost knocking me back as she evaded a stone flying in her direction. Surprised by the turn of events I failed to see another stone which almost hit me, missing my head by inches.

"That's right! You can keep running all the way back to Morrowind, greyskin whore!"

I saw a couple of Nords approaching from the right, both of them looking fairly drunk. It was all to clear what was going on; the racism problem in Windhelm was obviously even worse than I thought.

The drunks stopped in their tracks when I faced them, regarding them with a disdainful sneer.

I really hate Windhelm...

"The fuck are ya gawkin' at, Niranye?!" The one in filthy ragged tunic slurred. "Why ain't ya at yer stand, sellin' that worthless crap you call 'wares'?"

The man was obviously very drunk; no wonder he mistook me for someone else. "I beg your pardon?"

"You fuckin' deaf?" The drunk growled. "I said-"

"That ain't Niranye, Ang." The other Nord who was throwing stones earlier, noticeably less drunk and better dressed, spoke up. "What do you want here, outsider?" He addressed me with a scornful tone.

It was too much to hope that the two louts would take the hint and stop bothering me, but I tried anyway. "I'm here on business and I'm under no obligation to explain myself to you." I answered curtly.

The words only seemed to anger the nameless drunk. "You think you can talk down to me like that?!" He shouted, his glare growing even more hostile. "You High elves think you're so mighty an' superior, don't ya? That stuck-up cunt Niranye, too; always looking down on us Nords, trying ta scam us outta our last coin too, tellin' me to get lost when I get near 'er... But ya won't be so smug with us once we boot your kind out of Skyrim, I tell ya! And them Greyskins and pox-ridden Lizards, too!"

My hand strayed to the hilt of my sword as the drunk got uncomfortably close, waving his fists around in front of my face. His breath stank of mead and something else I couldn't quite describe.

I tensed up, ready to defend myself in case the drunk tried something. Better be ready in case it did come to blows.

"What are you doing, Rolff?!" A familiar voice rang out, cutting off the Nord's drunken rant.

It seemed I was lucky. The drunk Nords before me instantly shifted their attention to the newcomer. It was another Nord, older than the idiots trying to pick a fight with me; tall, bald and sporting a full grey beard, clad in a worn set of scaled armor.

The man obviously changed quite a bit in appearance since the Great war but I recognized him all the same.

The old warrior approached us, regarding Rolff and his friend Ang with a wrathful stare. "Don't you two have better things to do than to harass travellers?" The drunks flinched at his harsh voice. "It's bad enough you still bother the Dark elves in the city but now you have to go and try to pick a fight with strangers?"

"You still goin' about sticking up for the Greyskins, Brunwulf?" Rolff protested. "They're nothin' but trouble, as are all the outsiders pokin' around Windhelm!"

"Funny you should say that," The man named Brunwulf sneered. "Cause it seems to me that you and Angrenor are the trouble here."

Rolff scowled, trying to appear menacing. He failed miserably, in my honest opinion... "So you'd even betray your people for those knife-eared parasites? Some Nord you are, damn traitor! You're a disgrace to the true sons an' daughters of Skyrim! One day we'll show you-"

"Show me what, exactly?" Brunwulf cut him off, sounding almost bored. "You and this piss-poor excuse for a soldier," He gestured to Angrenor. "Are all talk, and everyone knows it! One flex of muscle is enough to send both of you running so stop embarrassing yourselves with your empty threats."

Rolff went bright red in the face; whether from shame or anger, I was not sure. But it was most likely the latter. "Now get out of my sight or I will tell on you to your brother, Rolff."

At the mention of his brother, Rolff deflated rather quickly. Though he wouldn't leave without one parting shot, at least. "This isn't over, Brunwulf. Count on it!" He growled before scurrying away, his friend Angrenor stumbling after him.

Brunwulf shook his head at the retreating troublemakers. "Wish I didn't have to deal with those idiots every day..." Then he turned back to me. "Though you turning up in here, that's a surprise. Hope those louts didn't cause you any trouble."

"It's alright, I could've handled them all by myself. Think you should worry more about yourself, Brunwulf Free-Winter." I couldn't help it but smile.

Brunwulf and I knew one another for years. The two of us met during the Great war, shortly after the 6th Legion was established following the fall of the Imperial City. We both fought in the front ranks during the battle of the Red ring, and we both almost died during the bloody pandemonium. He was one of the most fearsome warriors I've ever met, almost unstoppable on the battlefield. After the war ended, we went our separate ways. While I joined the College of Winterhold, Brunwulf worked as a sellsword for a couple of years before he settled down in Windhelm.

"Hah! I may not look the part but I still fight just as well as in the war!" The bearded Nord laughed. "I bet I still could trample you in a spar; you always were an absolute rubbish at sword-and-shield fighting!"

"Don't get too cocky now, old-timer." I shot back with a smirk. "I still could run circles around you."

Brunwulf scoffed. "Old-timer? That's rich, coming from you; you might look good for your age but underneath you're but a decrepit wrinkled harpy!"

We glared at each other for a few moments before breaking down laughing. Throwing insults around was our idea of a joke, it went back to our time with the Legion. And it still hadn't gotten old.

"Anyway, what brings you to Windhelm, Elaith?" Brunwulf then asked. "You here on business or running away from it?"

"The job at the College isn't so bad that I'd want to run away from it, Brunwulf." I scoffed at his joke. "No, I came here because I need to discuss something with Wuunferth."

The Nord raised his eyebrows. "The court wizard? The old man's absorbed in his research nigh all the time these days; never even leaves his chamber. I don't know if he'll be interested in a conversation. I hear he gets really annoyed when he's disturbed." He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "And by that, I mean 'willing-to-fry-you-from-inside-out' kind of annoyed."

Yep, sounds like Wuunferth...

"He'll listen to me." I replied confidently. "It's about dragons; that should be enough to pique his interest."

Brunwulf scowled at the mention of dragons. "Aye, I hear all about dragons these days. Word travels fast. How long do you think it'll take?"

Now it was my turn to be surprised. "Not long, maybe an hour at most. Why are you asking?"

"Well, I just thought we might meet up sometime later and go in a tavern for a drink and catch up... We barely see one another these days." Never thought I'd see someone like Brunwulf look sheepish...

The last time we saw each other was about two years ago; we both had our hands full and with my College work and Stormcloaks growing more intolerant and hateful of 'outsiders', there wasn't really a chance to meet and catch up. Until now...

"You know what, I'm not in a hurry anyway so I can stay in here over night."

"I knew you'd see things my way." Brunwulf grinned in response. "Let's meet at the Candleheart Hall after you've finished with Wuunferth."

I allowed myself a light smile. "It's a deal."

Brunwulf was right about one thing. Wuunferth absolutely hated being disturbed while he was in the middle of what he deemed an important research. His laboratory in the upper store of the Palace of the kings was a complete mess. Books, papers, alchemical equipment and all sorts of junk strewn all over the room and the mage himself hunched over a huge tome on his desk. The moment I entered the room he whirled around and started shouting, demanding the 'intruder' to remove themselves from his laboratory at once.

He deflated pretty quickly when he saw who he was yelling at.

Wuunferth used to work at the College for a very long time. He left a few years ago to pursue his own research... or possibly so he wouldn't have to put up with students who didn't know what they were doing half the time. Either way, his friendship with Jarl Ulfric has soon won him a place at Windhelm's court.

When I finally told him the purpose of my visit, all his anger went away in a blink, his research suddenly forgotten.

"Yes, the 'dragon crisis', as some call it, seems to be the only thing people talk about these days." The old wizard muttered as he searched through his personal library. "Ever since Helgen, there were dragon sightings all over Skyrim. I wouldn't be surprised if there were some in Cyrodiil or High Rock."

I nodded in reply. "Anything related to dragons happening here lately?"

"There was an attack at Kynesgrove, only three days ago." Wuunferth replied in a dark tone. "I don't know what exactly happened there since I didn't get a chance to speak to witnesses. But there were supposedly two dragons." Two dragons?! A chill ran down my back. This just keeps getting worse. "What's more intriguing is that one of them was never seen coming. It simply appeared, as in out of thin air. The dragon that first arrived flew away later and the other went on a rampage. Nobody knows how, but four strangers turned up and managed to put the beast down."

At least something good came out of that, I thought. On the other hand, anyone that can kill a dragons is worth investigating. "Is there anything you know about those strangers?" I asked the court wizard.

The old Nord gave me a look. "What can I tell you? I didn't get to meet them, or anyone who saw them. But from what I've heard, there were one Nord man and three women, another Nord, Breton and a Wood elf." He then leaned closer and lowered his voice. "And what's the strangest, one of them might be a Dragonborn. I assume you know what I'm talking about?"

I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes. "Yes, I know, Wuunferth. But what makes you think the Dragonborn was present during the attack?"

"A couple of soldiers was sent to inspect the dragon's corpse... They only found a pile of bones and some scales here and there. Everything else was gone, like if decayed."

So, it was true. Some of the books in the Arcanaeum contained testimonies of those who witnessed a Dragonborn devouring a dragon soul. These were thousands of years old, mind you, and there was no way of verifying those. But all these witness accounts mentioned a dragon carcass decaying away at an incredibly fast rate as the Dragonborn absorbed its soul. And this seemed to have happened in Kynesgrove.

If the prophecy was true, then the Dragonborn, whoever it might be, was the only one who could stop an apocalypse. Finding out his identity and tracking him down was an imperative. It was easier said than done, though.

There was one more matter I needed to discuss. "Let's cut to the chase, Wuunferth. I read the prophecy of the Dragonborn." I said. "I want to know who, or what exactly is the World-Eater."

The moment I said the words, the court wizard's expression fell. "I don't know why you're so intent on finding out but there's a reason why people avoid speaking of him." He whispered harshly. "He's the harbinger of the end times, the bringer of the apocalypse; one with a hunger not even the entirety of Nirn can sate!"

Damn, that actually sounded pretty terrifying...

"I don't dare speak openly about him, not in times like these... But I have tomes about him that have the answers you seek."

I narrowed my eyes. "Show me, then."

Needless to say I did learn everything I needed to know. Maybe even more than I cared to, in fact.

It seemed both Alexandre Simon and Mikhael Karkuxor were wrong, after all. The World-Eater was indeed nothing else but the famed Alduin, whom Nordic lore knew as the first-born son of Akatosh, the leader of the Divines himself. He was "the overlord to all dragons, his scales darker than the night sky, eyes filled with fire burning brighter than the flames of the Red mountain, and his power umatched by mortals, or his dragon servants..." The books mentioned that defeating came at a great cost for mortals, though not a word on how it happened. And since Alduin appeared in Helgen, it was quite possible that the old Nords didn't really finish him off... or he couldn't even be killed by conventional means.

This was how the Nordic lore described Alduin... and it was scarily reminiscent of the dragon that destroyed Helgen. It failed to explain where the other dragons came from, or where they were before this whole mess started. The only thing certain was that only the Dragonborn could stop him. That was what the prophecy said, and of course it didn't mention how exactly it could be achieved...

I had a lot to think about for the rest of my journey's duration. With an expression of gratitude I left Wuunferth's lab and the palace, careful to avoid the gaze of the Jarl. There was no way he didn't remember my face since we shared the same cart, headed for an execution that never took place. And if he saw me in his palace, in the heart of the Stormcloak rebellion... who knows what would happen.

Brunwulf waited at the entrance to the Candlehearth Hall. Contrary to my assumptions, we never went inside; instead, we ended up in a cramped tavern in the Grey quarter, a part of the city where the Dunmer population was restricted.

oOo

"So, here we are." Brunwulf exclaimed as we entered the run-down house. I was welcomed by a sight of what looked like a tavern. Only it was a lot less... attractive compared to other taverns. Cramped space with little to no furnishings, dimly lit by a few lanterns and filled with strange smells. "Welcome to the New Gnisis cornerclub!"

Our entrance drew quite a lot curious gazes from the bartender and the patrons, all of whom happened to be Dunmer. Was this why Brunwulf took me here, because he thought I'd feel better among fellow Mer? And why the patrons weren't hostile to the presence of a Nord?

"Splendid! A Nord in my humble tavern! Never thought I'd see the day." The man behind the bar remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Cut it out, Ambarys," Another Dunmer snapped at him. "Brunwulf is the only one in this gods-forsaken city that gives a damn about us!"

Ambarys the bartender sighed irritably. "Yes, you said it a hundred times already, Malthyr. Having one Nord on our side doesn't get us out of this squalor, remember that."

Malthyr then approached us. "Don't mind Ambarys, he's like that all the time." He apologized on the barkeep's behalf. "Though a lot of us down here share his sentiment... that Ulfric and his lot despise our kind and treat us like dirt."

"Aye, been seeing it about every day in here." Brunwulf grumbled.

"I've met this Rolff character and his homeless drinking buddy shortly after I arrived here." I interjected. "Pretty nasty people, those two; seemed to hate anyone who isn't a Nord."

"That's Windhelm for you, sera. Be glad you can live somewhere else." Malthyr paused, regarding me with sudden interest. "I don't think I've seen you around here before. As far as I know, Niranye and Nurelion are the only Altmer in this city."

Brunwulf took it upon himself to introduce me, not even giving me a chance to speak. "Oh, this is Elaith; she's my friend from the Great war. We both used to serve in the Legion, killed scores of Dominion soldiers along the way. But we both quit after the war ended."

Ambarys seemed to perk up at the mention of the Legion.

"That's the gist of it, yes." I added. "I then joined the College in Winterhold and been working there ever since."

"Is that why you took her here?" Ambarys called out from the bar. "Because Elda might get jealous?"

Oh right, the innkeeper from the Candlehearth Hall. Her and Brunwulf seemed to have a relationship... not that it was my business, of course.

"Yeah, that and I was sure she wouldn't run away after seeing your ugly mug, Ambarys." Brunwulf replied mockingly, shutting the barkeep up for a while. "Now, let's sit down and get something to drink... I'm parched."

oOo

New Gnisis cornerclub wasn't nearly as bad as I thought. It wasn't the most... opulent of places but good company seemed to make up for it. We sat there with a couple of Brunwulf's Dunmer friends, chatting and swapping tales over a pint of ale... or two...

oOo

I took a swig from my tankard, the liquid burning something fierce as it went down my throat. Malthyr encouraged me to try some sujamma and of course, I just couldn't back down from a challenge. Even if I regretted it afterwards, just a little bit. Suppressing a coughing fit, I asked "So, anything new around Windhelm?"

"Ever since the damn war started, things have been getting worse with every day." Brunwulf sighed. "Fighting has disrupted supply lines so prices have gone up, some crazy maniac started butchering people inside the city, tension in Windhelm are rising, and now we have damn dragons on the loose."

Dragons were the talk of the day, I knew all about it. It was something else that captured my interest. "Someone's killing people in here?"

"Some Nord women were butchered in the streets of Windhelm, not that it matters to me." Ambarys huffed. "As long as it's not my people being killed, I don't care a whit about this city's problems."

The others didn't comment on Ambarys' remark, apparently used to his attitude. I knew the Nords' mistrust of other races would breed some resentment among non-Nordic populace but the deep, bitter hate the barkeep held towards the Nords was something else.

"It's not that someone just kills them." Brunwulf explained. "These women... they were ripped apart; parts of their bodies just cut out... I don't know who would do something like this, or why."

"How long has this been going on?" I asked.

"No one really knows. The guards found cut up bodies before but it wasn't until later when they made the connection. Though it became a real problem when that girl from the Cruel-Sea clan wound up butchered by the same madman." Malthyr added. "The city's been on the edge ever since. City guard's been searching the city up and down but they didn't catch the bastard. And he even managed to kill one of Torbjorn Shatter-Shield's daughters."

I found myself wondering how it was possible that a serial killer could be on the loose for so long. Whoever it might be was either too good at covering their tracks... or the city guard wasn't doing its job. Better watch my back when I go to the Candlehearth hall later...

"Let's change the topic, please." I took a mouthful of sujamma just to wash down the uneasy feeling in my gut. "What else happened around here? Something more positive, by chance?"

"What about our dear vigil Viola Giordano?" A merchant named Aval chuckled. "More precisely, about her unrequited love for our resident Captain?"

"Right!" Malthyr barked a laugh. "She's been pining after Lonely-Gale for years and he still hasn't noticed!"

"I think he did; that's why he avoids her like a plague!" The whole tavern erupted in laughter at Aval's comment.

I felt a smile tugging at my lips. This should be good...

oOo

The time flew by quickly as we sat in that cramped little inn, talking and drinking and laughing. Speaking of drinking, I might've had a bit too much, though I'd feel it much, much later. Though at that particular evening, I didn't care very much. And as I learned later, my state of inebriation was a source of amusement itself...

oOo

"Do ya know what reeeeeally pisses me off?" My speech was slurred and I was swaying slightly in my seat but I was still in control of my body. Somewhat...

"Go on." Aval was grinning like a Khajiit seeing a bowl of moonsugar.

"It's just that... The Empire and the Stormcloaks are squabblin' over 'banning' of Talos and nobody does nothin' about Thalmor bastards walking all over this wasteland, arresting and killing whoever the hell they want! If the bloody rebels care about their homeland so much they should be killin' those traitorous Dominion snakes instead of going against the Empire, or anyone who ain't a Nord!"

"Hear hear!" Brunwulf raised his flagon, choking back laughter.

"Idiots say that Empire took their God! But we all know it was the Thalmor who came up with the Concordat, and who gives a shit about them?" I slammed my hand on the table. "It's not like one stupid piece of parchment can kill a god, right? Nobody will know you worship Talos unless you're stupid enough to go shouting it from the rooftops. I tell you what; people get nabbed by Justiciars for Talos worship because they don't keep quiet about it. Always wearing the amulets despite the ban, or hiding shrines in the wilderness... But they're just symbols, nothing more; doesn't faith always come from the heart? But the Nords don't get it and that's why they end up in Thalmor dungeons!"

Engrossed in my drunken rant, I didn't notice Brunwulf grimace slightly.

"And don' even get me started on those Stormcloaks! They're idiots, every single one of 'em!" I accentuated every word by banging on the table."Yeah, signing the damn Concordat was a mistake, we all know that, but that's no good reason for destroying the only thing that can stop the Dominion from walking all over Tamriel! This war ain't about Talos, or Imperial tyranny or whatever! There ain't a grain of truth to Ulfric's talk about fighting for Skyrim's freedom, I tell you! Bah, 'true sons an' daughters of Skyrim' my arse! They only want to go back to the ways of Ysgramor, the glorified Mer-killer, and Ulfric's gonna be their King! But do you know what I have to say about that?!"

At that point, I was halfway gone, remembering only bits and pieces. They way Brunwulf described it, I rose from the table and slammed the inn's door open. Then, taking a deep breath, I screamed into the city's darkened streets.

"Ulfric and his dogs can go suck on a diseased cho-"

The inn's patrons pulled me back before I could finish the sentence. Once the door was closed, an overwhelming laugh erupted behind them.

oOo

Needless to say I could barely walk on my own after we left the cornerclub. Brunwulf had to accompany me to make sure I wouldn't get hurt... and he let me stay in his house over night because he wasn't sure if I'd even make it to the Candlehearth hall...

The last time I got this drunk was back in my days with the Legion, when I was celebrating my promotion to the rank of Legate. And that was before the Great war started. When it did happen, I was prone to ill-thought behavior. Well, fellow legionnaires were a bad influence in certain ways; pretty sure the Dominion types would want nothing to do with someone like me... Good thing that no one heard me insulting the 'beloved' Stormcloaks. The thing about the things I said in my drunken stupor was that I genuinely believed it. It was my opinion on this civil war, though I did keep it to myself. And to say it out loud in the heart of the Stormcloak rebellion...

The next day I only stayed long enough to bid farewell to Brunwulf and get out of Windhelm before anyone could stop me.

Suffice to say I'm never getting drunk like that again. Ever.

Author's note: First off, I realize it's been a long time since the last update. I'm sorry I don't update more often but the finals are approaching and until a few days ago I've been working on my thesis. I handed it in just yesterday... In short, I have a lot of work to deal with. But I'll try and update once more this month, it's the least I can do.

As always, thanks for reading, review, favorite or follow; compliments and/or critique always welcome :-)

For Naruto loves FemKyuubi: Sorry I didn't write anything on Saliyah and co. in this update. I'll be sure to correct that in the next chapter, though!