DF: Here's chapter 10. Enjoy!

Chapter 10

The city opened up into a second plaza. Several large fire pits were scattered around the plaza and lit the stone walls with their eerie glow. The jarl's palace rested at one end of the plaza. Its tall, dark facade gave the palace a rather imposing vibe. As did the statue-like guards posted along every level of the building. Compared to the rest of Windhelm, the palace was heavily defended. With the Civil War raging across Skyrim, the jarl was most likely worried about being targeted by assassins, or worse, invasions. Bran didn't fully understand what had started the Civil War, but the whispers he'd overheard in Windhelm suggested that the jarl played a key role in it.

The guards silently watched the pair as they crossed the plaza and entered the castle. Their icy stares unnerved Bran.

The inside of the castle was a little anticlimactic. The exterior bespoke of the castle's age and importance. The stone walls were worn and decorated with various wreaths and banners depicting the city's symbol, a bear's head. The inside of the castle, however, was sparsely decorated as if it had changed hands too many times in too little time to have any personal touches. A few banners dangled from the walls; their colors dulled by age. A large, barren feast table sat in the center of the main hall. At the back of the main hall rested a large throne. A bearded man stood stoically beside the empty throne. He wore fancy, yet utilitarian clothing.

Lyz approached the man and gave him a short bow. "Steward Jorleif. I came to speak to you about the bounty you posted. The one asking for the capture of the Butcher."

The steward sighed tiredly and pinched his nose. "These are difficult times indeed, when men stalk their brethren like hungry beasts. The only people who have come forward to hunt this 'Butcher' so far were young and inexperienced boys seeking glory. I turned them all down. No point in adding to the pile of dead bodies."

Lyz ignored Jorleif's dismissive words. "I am neither young nor inexperienced. I've hunted worse monsters than serial killers and survived. The Butcher would be no challenge."

The steward grimaced. "Normally, I would ask for proof of your expertise before allowing you to accept the bounty. But my men are stretched thin as it is. If you offer your aid, I will gladly accept. No proof required."

Lyz smiled. "Excellent. I have already interviewed a couple people. But I will need to take a look at Susanna's body if I am to gather any more information. The guards told me that I would need your permission to do so."

"Very well." The steward handed Lyz a token. "Show this to the guards if they give you trouble. They should be more than happy to answer your questions and help in your investigation once they see this. I'm happy to lend a hand as much as I can as well."

Steward Jorleif grabbed Lyz's arm before she could walk away. Bran saw the instinctive urge to attack roll through Lyz's back before she settled. She didn't like being grabbed.

"One last thing. All of the Butcher's latest victims have been women who were roughly in your age group. If the Butcher knows that you are tracking him, he may come after you next. I hope that you will be careful."

Lyz slowly pulled her arm out of Jorleif's grasp. "I will. As always."

With the token in hand, the two of them returned to the cemetery and spoke to the guards. In the time it had taken them to speak to the steward then head back, the guards had managed to clear out most of the crowd. Although, a few people still lingered in the cemetery. Oddly enough, one of the people who had admitted to not knowing anything when Lyz had interviewed him earlier in the day was now standing on top of a crate, offering to give a firsthand account of the 'terrible murder' in exchange for ten septims. Bran rolled his eyes. Apparently, integrity wasn't a major value in Windhelm.

Lyz flashed the steward's token at the same guard they had spoken to earlier and informed him that the steward had granted her permission to continue investigating the murders. The guard simply shrugged.

"Very well. Go take a look at the body. See what you're getting yourself into. Helgrid's already taken the body to the Hall of the Dead to prepare it for burial. She's a little… crazy, but if she knows anything about anything, it's dead bodies." The guard tipped his chin towards one corner of the cemetery. "I also noticed a trail of blood leading out of the cemetery. It disappears after a few feet, but maybe that dog of yours will have an easier time following it."

Lyz started heading off in the direction that the guard had gestured towards, but Bran stopped her before she could get too far. He tapped at her leg with a paw until she looked down. When he had her attention, he turned towards the Hall of the Dead and gestured with his paw.

Lyz tilted her head like a confused puppy. "You want to see the body first? Ah, I see. You want to see if you can catch the killer's scent on Susanna. Make it easier to track him. Great idea."

Bran felt pleased with himself. It looked like Lyz was finally beginning to understand his cues. He led the way into the Hall of the Dead with Lyz trailing after him.

The Hall of the Dead lived up to its spooky name. The inside of the hall felt ancient. The walls were carved with mysterious patterns that felt older than Bran himself. It appeared that the Hall of the Dead had been built inside an ancient ruin with the city constructed above it. The tunnels led deeper and deeper underground and led into corridors lined with dead bodies and cobwebs. Bran noticed out of the corner of his eye that Lyz shied away from the walls and watched every corpse with a wary eye. It struck Bran that Lyz's behavior was unusually cautious. But he had no way of asking her about it, so he left her alone.

They eventually found a robed woman tending to a body in a deeper part of the hall. The wax candles dimly lit the room and cast eerie shadows across the woman's face. When they approached her, the woman merely glanced at them and continued her inspection of the corpse before her.

"Large diagonal cut from the left shoulder all the way to…"

"Find anything interesting?" Lyz asked impatiently. Lyz peered up at one of the stacks of embalmed corpses and stepped back.

"Well, she's dead," Helgrid answered blandly.

Lyz glared at her. "Thanks. I never would have guessed. Why not tell me something I don't know?"

Helgrid's eyebrows rose in false surprise. "Ohhh. Yes. The body. The only unusual thing is the shape of the cuts. They look like they were made with ancient Nord embalming tools. I don't know who in Windhelm would even have something like that on them." She paused. "Other than me, of course."

Bran and Lyz both gave the woman a wary look when she suddenly let out a cackle.

"You common folk are always so easy to mess with. Consider it your punishment for intruding on my hall without permission. I would kick you out, but that token on your chest tells me that the steward sent you. Hurry up and ask your questions so I can get back to my work."

Lyz sighed. "Did you… find anything else?"

"Nope. Just have to finish preparing the body for burial."

"How helpful of you," Lyz said dryly. "If you have a moment, we would like to inspect the body ourselves before we leave."

Helgrim waved a hand at them. "Suit yourself. Just don't take too long."

The woman hobbled off and went to work on a different body.

Bran and Lyz turned their attention to the body laid across the table. He winced. Bran had to admit Susanna's body was in pretty bad condition.

The body had been stripped naked, either by the Butcher or by Helgrim. Deep slash marks covered both legs and encircled her neck. A chunk of her abdomen had been torn out. It looked as if the Butcher had been trying to harvest her organs but had only managed to collect a small piece. The sight was incredibly disturbing, even to Bran. Still, he wasn't going to be much help with finding this serial killer if he shied away now. Bran went to work.

Bran had plenty of experience lifting useful information from dead bodies. It came with being a werewolf for many centuries. For a werewolf, their nose was their best tool and their strongest weapon.

It had only taken Bran a couple days to notice the subtle differences in the scents of humans from Earth versus those in Tamriel. Earth's humans tended to smell more similar to each other. Sure, the variety of skin products, perfumes and laundry detergents they used would affect their scents. But a human always smelled like a human.

Tamriel's humans tended to be more diverse. He noticed that nords smelled distinctly different from imperials and redguards. Almost as if they were derived from a completely different group of hominids entirely. Bran wasn't sure if it was genetic or magical.

Susanna had the deep scent of snow and ice underlying all the other scents covering her body. It told him that she was a nord. But there was another scent on her body. It reminded him of fire and ash with a wisp of some dark magic. It was odd enough that Bran did another pass over the body.

"Can we leave yet?" Lyz grumbled while Bran sniffed the body.

Bran paused his work and shot a look at Lyz. She looked incredibly uncomfortable. She kept eyeing the dead bodies stored along the walls as if she were expecting one of them to hop up and attack them. A stray gust of wind rustled a piece of clothing on one of the corpses and caused Lyz to shudder. Strange. She didn't seem to have a problem with dead bodies yesterday. Bran wondered what was on her mind.

Bran shook his head. That was a question for later. For now, he needed to focus on inspecting the body. When he had gleaned all the information he could from the body, he walked up to Lyz and nodded his head.

"Let's go," she said before heading back out.

When they stepped out of the Hall of the Dead, Lyz let out a loud sigh of relief. Bran nudged her hand with his nose, causing her to jump. She looked down at his worried expression, then looked away.

"I'm fine," she said levelly.

Liar, Bran thought. But he chose not to confront her. It wouldn't get him anywhere and right now he wanted to focus on tracking the killer while the scent was still fresh on his mind. He made his way over to where the blood trail the guard had noticed began and started following the tracks. Lyz followed behind him silently.

As the guard had said, the blood trail ended shortly after it had begun. But thanks to Bran's sharp nose, he was able to continue following the track even after it had disappeared from his eyes. The blood trail led them out of the cemetery and into a small neighborhood filled with large homes. The scent led them past several homes before taking an abrupt turn towards one of the houses. Bran's nose led them all the way up to the door, then he stopped.

Bran looked back at Lyz and back at the door. Lyz tested the door, but it was locked.

"Locked," she noted. "And with a high-quality lock too. I can pick the lock, but it might take a while. I will need someone to keep watch."

Bran gave her a suspicious look.

"What? Lockpicking is a useful hobby to have."

Hobby my furry butt, Bran thought with a frown. His disbelief must have been apparent on his face because Lyz huffed and waved a hand at him dismissively.

"Whatever. Just keep watch."

Bran rolled his eyes and settled down just outside the gate to the house. Lyz immediately got to work on the lock, digging at the lock with an old dagger and a small lockpick. She twisted the lockpick left and right, cursing each time the lockpick broke and she had to replace it with a new one. While she was picking the lock, Bran kept his ears and eyes peeled for any unexpected company. As luck would have it, seconds later, a woman turned the corner and started heading down the road towards the house.

The woman was dressed in fine clothes, finer than those of the steward. Her hair was combed back into a tight bun and she walked with a refined gait that could only be found in a noble. Despite her obvious wealth, dark circles sat underneath her eyes as if she hadn't slept in days.

Bran immediately got up and rushed towards the woman. He stood up on his hind legs and licked her face like an excited dog that had just seen its owner. The woman yelped in surprise and fell backwards on her bum. She quickly regained her senses, however, and slapped Bran away.

"Enough! You'll ruin my clothes. Damn mutt!"

She stood up with a huff and stomped past Bran, giving the wolf another swat when he tried to block her path. As she passed the house that Lyz was working on, she paused and gazed at the house with a sad look on her face. Then she shuffled past the house and entered her own house next door. Bran padded back over to the house and glanced around. Lyz had disappeared from sight. Yet Bran could still smell her. He began sniffing around for her when an invisible hand fell on his shoulder and caused him to jump.

"Gotcha," Lyz said from seemingly nowhere. "Invisibility potions always come in handy in situations such as these."

Bran gave the empty space where her voice had come from a dubious look before he resumed his guard duty.

After another minute, Lyz finally cracked the lock on the door and pushed it open. The invisibility potion had only lasted seconds and Bran had jumped a second time when she reappeared next to him.

Lyz smiled and put her lockpicking tools back into her pocket. She motioned for Bran to follow her in before disappearing inside. Bran looked around before slinking inside and shutting the door behind them.

As soon as they entered the house, Bran could smell the faint stench of death. Lyz, whose nose wasn't as keen as his was, took in the entire house with a careful eye.

"It looks like no one else is here," she whispered. "Still, I would prefer if we looked around quickly then left before anyone arrived. You check the first floor and I'll check the second floor."

Lyz raced up the stairs without another word. Bran let his gaze travel around the first level. The house was mostly empty, any valuables and usable furniture having already been removed. Cobwebs had already begun to form on the ceiling and in dark corners of the house. He let his nose guide him around the room.

His nose first led him to a splatter of blood in a corner of the room. A chest was placed in front of the blood spatter, though the chest seemed too clean to have been there when the blood spatter was made. In fact, it looked like the chest had been shoved there recently judging by the faint scratch marks on the floor and the lack of stains on the chest. Bran nosed the chest open and looked inside. Several pieces of paper sat inside. There were around a dozen copies of a poster warning locals about the Butcher, a serial killer accused of murdering several young women in Windhelm. Bran frowned. He dug through the pieces of paper before finding a journal buried at the bottom of the chest.

The journal bore the same odor as the blood trail that led them to this house. The same odor he had smelled among the crowd gathered in the cemetery.

Hmm. Bran set the journal aside and gave a loud woof.

Lyz came rushing down the stairs and looked around with a snarl. A wicked looking dagger rested in one hand. When she didn't see any threats, she turned to Bran with a growl.

"You'd think that you would understand that this situation would call for a bit of quiet, don't you?"

Bran ignored her words and nudged the journal he had placed on the ground. Lyz's face immediately lost its frown, and she walked over and picked up the journal.

"You found this just now?"

Bran sneezed.

Lyz opened the journal and flipped through the pages. Her eyebrows furrowed, then her lips slowly pulled back into an angry snarl as she read.

"Necromancer," she hissed darkly, eyes colder than steel. "The Butcher is a necromancer."

Bran took a step back. Lyz was angrier than he had ever seen her. It was as if the very word had summoned a side of her that he had never seen before.

Lyz set the journal aside and looked around. "This must be its hiding spot. There are probably more clues lying around. Let's keep looking."

They went around the room, turning over objects and looking for more evidence. Bran didn't find much, but eventually Lyz called him over with a quiet whistle. He walked over to where she crouched in front of a small shelf. Immediately, the stench of death grew stronger. The shelf was covered with more wanted posters about the Butcher. Bran wasn't sure what had caught Lyz's attention until she slipped her hand underneath one of the stacks of paper and pulled out a strange amulet.

The strange amulet was crafted from silver and contained a black band. Imbedded in the silver was a jade skull that seemed to grin evilly at Bran. The amulet stank of an awful magic.

"Think this belongs to anyone?" Lyz gave the amulet a look of disgust and slid it into her pouch. "It appears necromantic, but I'm not entirely sure. Whatever it is, it must belong to the Butcher which brings us one step closer to finding him."

Bran frowned. He was certain now that the death odor was getting stronger. But it wasn't the amulet nor was it the shelf. He sniffed around the corner trying to figure out where the awful smell was coming from, but his nose kept bringing him back to a wardrobe a couple feet away. He nudged the wardrobe open but didn't see anything.

Odd, Bran thought.

Lyz stood up and glanced at the wardrobe too. She checked the sides and leaned against the backside of the open wardrobe.

"Does something about this wardrobe interest you, pup? Eep!"

The backside of the wardrobe suddenly gave way. Lyz let out a shriek as she fell with it. The wardrobe gave a loud boom as it landed on the ground and scattered dust everywhere.

Bran sneezed as the dust cleared. The wolf eased his way through the dust cloud and nudged Lyz's side.

"I'm alright," Lyz said shakily. "Just got caught off guard."

So much for keeping quiet.

Bran sniffed in amusement only to gag when a horrible stench filled his nose. The wardrobe had given way to a tiny hidden room behind the wall. Scattered across the floor were bones and scraps of meat from the Butcher's various victims. The guard had said there were only three victims, but the number of bones suggested many more. In the back of the room sat an alter covered in body parts and stinking of the same magic as the amulet.

Lyz recoiled at the sight and scrambled to her feet. She immediately turned away from the horrifying scene and darted out of the house. Bran chased after her, surprised by her actions. He paused as he exited the house. For a human, Lyz ran surprisingly fast and she had disappeared by the time he had reached the door. He padded around the area looking for her.

He finally caught up to her outside the neighborhood, hidden behind a cluster of bushes. The sound of Lyz retching filled his ears and he carefully pushed his way through the bushes to check on her.

Lyz ignored him while she gasped in between retches. Her eyes had lost their coldness and were instead wide with shock and horror. Bran leaned against her leg and whined comfortingly. She paused before burying a hand in his scruff and holding him tightly as if he was a lifeline. Bran simply closed his eyes and continued to whine softly. Eventually, the scent of fear faded from Lyz and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"I hate necromancers," she groaned softly.

Bran frowned as his mind connected the dots. Realization dawned on him, and he settled against Lyz's leg. They had something in common.