-Vivec City-

Razum-dar, Theodyn, and Iveryni leave Vivec's city's mage guild to wander the confusing labyrinth of halls that leads to the palace. Theodyn is looking at everything, nearly tripping over his own feet. "This is not a vacation," Iveryni says.

"I know that!" Theodyn says. "It's just...amazing. And..." they find their way to the door that leads to the outside and as they walk Theodyn looks up into the sky. "Scary," he says. "I'm not sure I would want to live with that thing over me."

Iveryni glances up. "Lord Vivec keeps the Dunmer safe from the Moonlet and the Red Mountain."

"Living Gods," Razum-dar says, and as Iveryni looks at him he holds up his paws. "Razum-dar is the Queen's eye, this one knows how to be respectful."

Theodyn looks away from the Moonlet just as a Dunmer hurries up to them. "Queen's eye," he says addressing Razum-dar. "Your request came in last night. Please follow me." he turns and leads the three to an enormous flight of stairs and starts up them. Razum-dar growls at the stairs and the three follow the Dunmer up to the palace and through the doors. He leads them to the audience chamber doors. "Lord Vivec will see you now," he says, opening the doors. "Will the other two wait here?"

Razum-dar glances at Iveryni and Theodyn, brow furrowed in thought. Finally, he says, "They will not, this concerns them as well." Razum-dar steps forward and walks through the doors, followed by Iveryni and Theodyn.

Lord Vivec is waiting for them. He sits cross-legged, hovering in midair. A golden glow surrounds him and he slowly opens his eyes to regard his guests. Razum-dar walks to him and bows his head slightly, Iveryni, and Theodyn following his example. Iveryni's eyes shine as she glances at him and Theodyn is doing his best not to stare. "This one thanks you for meeting us."

"Recent events have disturbed the peace." Lord Vivec says. "I was made aware of the necromancer that decimated the population of an island." he pauses. "I was unaware of this island's existence."

"Of course," Razum-dar says with a cunning smile. "It is against current policies. That you support. But of course, it's not today's business. We are set to find and stop this necromancer, but we are in need of Jeziasi and my sources have come up empty. So Razum-dar comes asking the Living God's if they have any insight in this."

"Jeziasi has not been in Vvardenfell since the incident with Barbas and Clavicus Vile. I would know if she had." Lord Vivec says.

"And did you have a chance to speak with Sotha Sil?" Razum-dar. "This one knows my request was placed in haste, so this one understands if you did not."

"Sotha Sil's exact words on this was, Jeziasi has fallen outside my sight. Her continued existence is in question." Lord Vivec says.

Razum-dar frowns. "She cannot be dead. We had... an interesting visitor last night. From what they said, Jeziasi is alive. But..." Razum-dar shrugs. "It is a mystery." Razum-dar nods his head toward Lord Vivec. "We thank you for your time. You will be kept informed of the current state of events regarding the current threat." he turns to go and Theodyn and Iveryni start walking toward the doors.

"One further thing." Lord Vivec says.

Razum-dar turns back to Lord Vivec. "Razum-dar is all ears."

"Jeziasi has helped Vvardenfell and helped me. It is not something I shall forget. That is why I have chosen to ignore House Telvanni's most serious accusations against her." Lord Vivec narrows his eyes. "She is the Champion of Vivec, but it would be best if she never sets foot on Vvardenfell again. I know these accusations to be truth."

"I will inform her, should we be lucky enough to find her," Razum-dar says and walks out.

On the way back to the mage's guild Iveryni falls in step with Razum-dar, as Theodyn trails slightly behind, still mesmerized by the sights, though he seems a little troubled as well. "Razum-dar, what did Jeziasi do?" she says.

"This one is not sure," Razum-dar says. "This is not a place Razum-dar has eyes and ears in."

"Sorry to interrupt, but an Argonian's following us." Theodyn chimes in.

Razum-dar's eyes narrow and he spins around hissing, withdrawing his sword in one swift movement. Iveryni's hand moves to her staff, and magic starts to glow upon it.

A high-pitched frightened hiss and the Argonian in question scurries behind a crate. Slowly they peek their head around.

Razum-dar sighs and puts his sword away. "Razum-dar says it's not a good idea to say something like that Theodyn when we are on the hunt for a dangerous Argonian."

"Sorry," Theodyn says sheepishly as he looks toward the crate.

Iveryni sighs and puts her staff away. She kneels down. "Come out, we won't hurt you."

The Argonian creeps out, her scales are a rosy brown with soft sea-green speckles. Two small horns creep out the back of her head and her eyes are mossy green. "I did not mean to stalk you," she says in a soft voice. "You mentioned Jeziasi, and I could not help myself. I am Softly-Speckled-Crab"

"So you know Jeziasi?" Razum-dar says.

"Of her," Softly-Speckled-Crab says. "She saved us years ago. All of us were enslaved by the Telvanni. They refused the pact, refused to release us. And she came and killed the Dunmer at the mines and set us free." Softly-Speckled-Crab bows her head. "Most decided to allow the smugglers to take them home, but I was born here and my parents are gone, so I stayed. I hoped one day to find her and thank her."

"That would explain why the Telvanni is angry with her," Razum-dar says, his paw to his face.

"She really is a hero," Theodyn says. "Swooping in to free slaves and punish the slavers! Though she should have just arrested them or something."

"It's never that simple," Iveryni says. "Such things must be done through proper channels. It sounds as if she went off on her own against the Telvanni. They are a powerful house, it is one reason they have not faced sanctions for refusing pact law."

"Jeziasi is complicated," Razum-dar says. "And sometimes a little too reckless."

"The accusations are more serious than just that."

The four turn to see yet another person has overheard them. Razum-dar sighs. "We should not be discussing this out in the open." He holds out his paw to the Dunmer woman who has spoken. "Come back to the mage's guild with us, and tell this one what you mean?" Razum-dar asks. "Razum-dar would like to know your name as well."

The woman narrows her eyes at them. "I don't think so. Your hero did not just attack a single mine and free the slaves there. She went up the coast from Telvanni territory slaughtering slavers and devouring them." A stunned silence falls over the group. "Yes, that's right. Your precious hero did that, and more besides." her eyes shimmer with a glimmer of repressed pain before hardening. "The Telvanni issued a writ of execution against her. Only Lord Vivec's influence stopped the Morag Tong from accepting." She turns her back on the party and stalks off.

Razum-dar stares after the woman for long moments before turning back to the others. "Razum-dar has a guess who that was. But we should move on to our next stop. Enough has been said out in the open." he looks at each of them in turn and their questions die on their lips.

Softly-Speckled-Crab moves forward and places her claw on Razum-dar's arm. "I can come, right?" she says. "I want to meet her. Despite what that angry Dunmer said." she pauses and adds. "I have been learning the healings arts. I can be helpful. Alchemy and a little magic."

Razum-dar regards Softly-Speckled-Crab. "It will be dangerous. Jeziasi is not the only one we are looking for. But..." he trails off and Iveryni continues his train of thought.

"She is one of us," Iveryni says. "It is not a coincidence she overheard us. She is meant to be with us."

"I'm Theodyn," Theodyn says shyly. "This is Iveryni and Razum-dar."

The group, now four, head toward the mage guild and the portal.


-Anvil-

Later that night the group gather in the largest inn room. Iveryni sits on one of the beds, Theodyn sits on the floor with Softly-Speckled-Crab. Razum-dar stands over them, arms crossed. "Vvardenfell could have gone better," he admits.

"I am aware from my studies Bosmer traditions deal with that sort of thing." Iveryni says "But that is in Valenwood. Most races would not accept such a thing outside of Valenwood. "

"The Bosmer...what?" Theodyn says. "I need to study more. Or do I. They EAT people?"

Softly-Speckled-Crab munches on bread she brought up from dinner. "Every race has strange traditions and practices," she says. "Some of the Argonian ones my parents told me about sound so strange."

Razum-dar holds out a paw. "As far as I know, Jeziasi is not one of the Bosmer that practice that tradition. As for what that Dunmer woman said, it would be best taken at face value." he sighs as he looks at the group. He knows Jeziasi's secrets...it was why he kept an eye on her. But he had never informed anyone else, not even his Queen. Jeziasi had never done anything against the Dominion...so he kept her secrets. She had earned that much. "This one must meet with someone. Alone," he says.

"Why alone?" Iveryni says. "You allowed us in with Lord Vivec."

"Because Razum-dar says so." At the three questioning eyes staring at him, Razum-dar sighs. "This man is very dangerous. He may not even meet with me, and he certainly would not meet with a group. Razum-dar will return soon. Stay in the inn until this one returns." he pads to the door and walks out.

Theodyn leans against the wall looking a little lost. "So it's not true?" he asks.

Softly-Speckled-Crab finishes her bread. "There were rumors of slavers being killed," she says. "It could be true."

Iveryni watches Theodyn and then moves from the bed to sit next to him. "Heros are people just like us," Iveryni says softly. "No mortals are perfect. And we don't know the full truth behind all this."

Theodyn sighs "I think I know that. But how is killing anyone ever right? Most of the time...it seems as if those who die don't deserve it, like my sister. I don't want anyone to die."

"It's not that simple," Iveryni says. "It never will be. Life is hardly fair."

"Dry scales are confusing," Softly-Speckled-Crab says rising. "I am going to get more bread." she opens the door and a commotion of sounds crashes in. Swearing, things being knocked over. "...no bread," Softly-Speckled-Crab says sadly and she starts to close the door. But before she can a young man bursts in.

"I did not do it!" he declares and then dives to the floor and wiggles under the bed. Softly-Speckled-Crab blinks and closes the door.

Iveryni leaps up staff in hand. "Crab! we need to get the authorities, not close the door!"

Softly-Speckled-Crab gets down on her belly and stares at the man under the bed. "He said he did not do it," Softly-Speckled-Crab says. "We must hide him."

"People lie!" Iveryni snaps. "He could be a murderer for all we know."

Theodyn gets up, his hand reaches for his sword instead of his staff and he pauses when he realizes this. "We could ask him first," he says.

"People lie and deceive!" Iveryni says again.

"I like his eyes," Softly-Speckled-Crab says. "Like a pond at night." she gazes at the man. "Your not bad are you?" she says.

He looks up from under the bed at Softly-Speckled-Crab and then glances at Iveryni and Theodyn as if just realizing what a strange group he has found. "I did not kill anyone. Ever!" the man declares. "I just...might have stole something."

Yelling from the street outside, it seems as if they think the thief ran out into the night. The man crawls out from under the bed. "I just needed a little gold," he says. His black eyes move to each in turn as if pleading with them and he runs his hand through his short and messy black hair. A jagged scar runs across the side of his neck. "Look, thank you for not turning me in," he says.

"Yet," Iveryni says. "Who are you?"

Theodyn studies him. "Your not a Breton are you?" he asks.

Softly-Speckled-Crab pokes her claw gently against his scar, seemingly fascinated by it.

He scoots back a little overwhelmed by the questions and attention. "Rufico and I am uh...not. Imperial." he looks uneasy as he answers. "And I was in a house. And no, Dark Elf not mine. I ran into another thief...she went crazy when she saw me and slashed my throat. Luck usually hates me but not that day." his finger traces the scar. "Damn crazy Altmer."

"It's Iveryni, not Dark elf," Iveryni says. "The Breton is Theodyn and the Argonian is Softly-Speckled-Crab." she studies him closely. The fact he failed to produce a last name has not escaped her scrutiny. "Why do you behave like a ruffian instead of proper?" she asks.

"I'm not good at anything else," Rufico says. "I ran away from home when I was thirteen. Never went back." he folds his arms across his chest.

"How old are you?" Theodyn asks.

"...Eighteen," Rufico says. "Give or take. I never kept much track after I ran off."

Iveryni's gaze tightens. "Where did you live before you ran away?"

Rufico looks down, his hair hiding his eyes. "Imperial City," he says softly. "Just stop asking questions already." he gets up and moves to the window.

Theodyn looks confused and looks at Iveryni. She glances at Theodyn and she says soft enough only he and Softly-Speckled-Crab can hear. "He ran away during the Plane Meld Crisis."

Theodyn's face goes white and he looks at Rufico. The stories that came from Cyrodiil from then were nightmares filled with Daedra and necromancers and horror.

Softly-Speckled-Crab looks at Rufico and then rises and leaves. She returns a few minutes later with enough bread for everyone. She walks up to Rufico and hands him a piece and he thanks her. "I was a slave," she says. "Now I'm free and with this group." she looks at Theodyn and Iveryni. "He can come with us right?" she asks.

Rufico nearly chokes on the piece of bread he's eating. "Wait, what?" he says.

"Are you..." Iveryni starts to ask and then trails off.

"He should come with us." Softly-Speckled-Crab insists. "He belongs with us."

"We should ask Razum-dar when he returns then," Theodyn says.

"Again, what?" Rufico says, bewildered.

Iveryni leans back and closes her eyes repressing a sigh.


-Just Outside Anvil-

Razum-dar waits in the night outside the city limits, the only light from the moons and stars. One of his paws grips his sword as he waits with a nonchalant air. Soon the air shimmers and the darkness parts, a hooded figure stepping out to stand before Razum-dar. The wind picks up, blowing Razum-dar's fur and the figure's dark robes. "Let me see," Razum-dar says. "You are Speaker Terenus, correct?"

Terenus's eyes narrow. "It disturbs me that you know how to contact me and my name. You tread dangerous waters, Queen's eye. The Void may take you this night."

Razum-dar's hand tightens on his sword but his face shows nothing but ease. "Razum-dar can keep silent, that is your creed yes? Along with murder."

"State your business," Terenus says in a tone fraught with threat.

"Razum-dar needs to state this upfront first. To avoid misunderstandings." Razum-dar says. "This one is the Queen's Eye, what Razum-dar found out, he found out on his own." he pauses and his eyes narrow. "Has Jeziasi returned to your ranks?"

Silence is Terenus's response. It oozes and taints the night as if daring Razum-dar to give up and flee before it's too late. But Razum-dar holds his ground, his eyes never leaving Terenus's. "Jeziasi is no longer one of our sisters." Terenus finally utters. "A unique situation, Nocturnal threatened even our Dread Lord. Therefore she was given leave to return to her old life without consequence, save she never seeks us out again."

"Razum-dar sees," Razum-dar said. "This one had to ask. So the last time you saw her was before Summerset."

"Correct," Terenus says. "Queen's Eye, I will say this, for our Mother has given me leave to say it. The only reason I do not kill you for your impudence is because the current threat could threaten souls that the Void will have claim over. See to it Jeziasi sets things to right, again." Terenus turns and the darkness engulfs him, leaving Razum-dar alone.

Razum-dar runs a paw through his mohawk. "Damn it," he says. "Another dead end. Jeziasi, where did you wander off to?" he turns to head back to the inn.


-Anvil-

Razum-dar and Rufico are face to face. "So somehow when this one was gone, you adopted a thief," he remarks.

"Hey now!" Rufico said. "I never said I was coming with you. In fact, NO! All these three can talk about is necromancers and Daedric princes and death, death, death!"

Razum-dar purrs. "They look for you, you know." he leans in closer. "You stole a diamond ring from a wealthy patron."

Rufico is silent before throwing up his hands. "Alright, I'll tag along with you then."

Razum-dar holds out his paw. Rufico sighs before digging into his pocket and putting the diamond ring in Razum-dar's paw. "Razum-dar will return this quietly and we shall return to Mournhold tomorrow," Razum-dar says. He looks at the group. "Tonight was a dead end as well. Razum-dar is out of ideas, for now. We will return to the Mage Guild and spend time on the notes from Daggerfall for now."


-DeathFang Tribe-

The skeleton wamasu seems to fly over the marsh, crashing through water and mud, weaving around trees and heavy plant clusters, and veering well out of the way of any tribes or Argonian's. Viperish Night found that if he slept in a meditative state, he could keep the skeleton running why he rested. And therefore a journey that should have taken much much longer, was so very shorter. And so, he finds himself at the outskirts of Death Fang Tribe just before sunset. The wamasu shudders and returns to the grave as Viperish Night leaps down. Massive mangroves surround the village, casting it in darkness even when the sun still shines. The plants here are wilder, the water darker and deeper. This is a place where shadows gather. It is a fitting birthplace for a monster. The eyes of crocodiles follow Viperish Night as he slides into the water, swimming into the village. He rises and looks around. It is very quiet, this is a tribe that lives in the night, rather than the day. But their Hist has woken the Deathtribe and eyes of green and gold open as the tribe slinks out of their huts to meet the intruder. The one that is an abomination. Viperish Night's eyes narrow as he stands on the edge of the village and waits, his eyes drifting over the Argonian's that watch him. All have various shades of grey and black scales, green or gold eyes, and horns, though the shape and placement are different for each.

Soon an older Argonian walks out of a central hut, she is decorated with a headdress of jet black feathers. She stops ten feet from Viperish Night. "I am Elder Nem-Ranier, and we know who you are," she says. "You should not be in the marsh. The Hist's will is for us to let you be, but if you strike against us, that will change and the Deathfang tribe is one of the fiercest in the swamps!" she bears her fangs in a mighty hiss.

Viperish Night's eyes fall on her golden eyes. So that was an answer he had been wondering about since speaking with Tree-Minder's memory. What the Hist would do if he waged war against the marsh, if he murdered all the Argonian's his eyes set upon, as he very much wanted to. They never even tried to accept him, even as he hid his magic to fit in. It was madness, as was the Hist. Madness that made his scales itch, madness he wanted to drown. Holding back...was so very hard. Viperish Night clenches his fist, drops of blood falling upon the mud. A rush of wind tainted with the grave, and the marsh waters are soon glowing with unholy blue eyes. Crocodiles, wamasu, and things he should never raise, but did. He holds out his claws to the Elder. "Tell me what I want to know," he says. "And I'll leave here in peace. Don't, and I will risk your wrath." his eyes shimmer in the last dying rays of the sun. "I destroyed an entire island, one little tribe is nothing...the rest of the tribes will never save you in time."

"Deathfang NEEDS no one to save it!" Nem-Ranier hisses and echoing hisses from the village ring out, as do weapons being drawn. "Still...we will stay our hand. What do you want?" she says.

"One simple thing." Viperish Night says moving closer to her. "Stalks-in-Darkness is a monster I need to kill. He was hatched here, or so he claims." Viperish Night looks around at the Argonian's. "He looks like you." he tilts his head. One key difference, Stalks-in-Darkness's eyes were a very different color than theirs. But then again, Viperish Night's eyes were very unlike Coppertail's typical eye color.

"Stalks-in-Darkness," Nem-Ranier says. "That is a Tamrielic name, not a Saxhleel name." She steps toward Viperish Night. "Only Deathfang looks as we do. If he looks like us, then his egg was hatched under the favored sign."

"A shadowscale." Viperish Night says. "Where are they taken?"

"You must know the answer to that." Nem-Ranier hisses. "Shadowscales would never tell where they take the hatchlings to. They take them to train, and some are sent to the Brotherhood." she laughs. "Go seek the Shadowscales and Brotherhood out if you want. It will be your death. Now leave. We will give you a fight if you do not. We will die as warriors. But Deathfang tribe will make sure it costs you, and you will never leave the marsh if you dare."

Viperish Night tilts his head. "Someday, I will dare. And on that day...I'll free you all." he turns. "The Hist, The Argonian's, your both fools. You could have accepted me. Instead..." he turns his eyes back to look at her and hatred simmers in his eyes before he turns away. A wamasu skeleton rises from the swamp and Viperish Night leaps upon it and flies back into the marsh.


-Black Marsh - Some distance away.-

Viperish Night sits on a tree branch, holding the necklace up before him. It shimmers and he hisses at it before lowering his hand. He might use it. It would take him too much time to travel out of the swamp, even as fast as a wamusu skeleton could go. But he does not trust it... Viperish Night leans back against the tree and looks up at the sky. The moons have risen, their cold light shining down upon him. He turns his head quickly away and focuses on different thoughts. Stalks-in-Darkness...he thought him a monster, but he never thought he was a shadowscale. Shadowscales was rarely spoken off, eggs hatched under the favored sign was taken in the dead of night, and most never seen again. The Argonian's would be trained as assassins, some given over to the Dark Brotherhood. Confusion crosses over his eyes. Why would an assassin act as Stalks-in-Darkness did? And even if that is how they acted, why would he be so very interested in Viperish Night? Viperish Night stares out into the night. Of course... that had become a very stupid question. He had met other necromancers. He had seen their powers. And even back in Daggerfall, he had surpassed their power. Now? Now he could do things they could only dream off. This world and the living in it...they wanted power. And if they could not grasp it in their claws, they sought others who had it. To control, manipulate. Still...there was more to Stalks-in-Darkness's attention than just that. Viperish Night stands and rises. The list of things he needed was growing. Robes, a staff. He needed books on crystals and how to access memories within one. He needed to test this necklace, this amulet for hidden traps. The Hist sap for poison. A book on the Brotherhood, should one exist. One place he could find all of that. The Mage's guild. Viperish Night tilts his head. It should just be night in Glenumbra as well.


-Glenumbra - Daggerfall-

Viperish Night's eyes open. The streets are dark and there is no one near the ally he has appeared in. The amulet worked as his former mentor had said, Viperish Night thought of Glenumbra and so the portal opened and he was here. He stalks out of the ally and looks around. It has been so very long since he was here last. Stands cast in shadows greet him and he remembers the marketplace stands. He quietly walks toward them, his eyes looking for guards. They may stop him, Viperish Night is clad only in a pair of pants and the mud of the marsh is upon him still.

"Oh!" A voice as he walks past a stand. Viperish Night stops and turns to the voice, a mid-age female Breton is looking at him. "I'm running late...are you..." she looks at him her brow furrowed.

Viperish Night moves closer to her and her stand. Mage staffs, runes, various other things. His claws run over one staff and his claws reach for a pouch. He had taken the gold from the ship. "This," he says. "And a robe...if you have any."

The Breton takes the pouch and frowns. "I don't usually carry any, though I have one my nephew brought me to sell. He found it somewhere...but I don't think you want it. It's rather sinister-looking."

"Acceptable." Viperish Night says. The woman shrugs and hands it to him along with the staff. "Let me count the gold and see to your change then..." she frowns and looks around, Viperish Night seems to have vanished. "Don't you want your change?"

Viperish Night stands before the mage guild, the robe fitting nicely on his frame, though he had to alter it a little for his tail. Its grey and black with crimson markings. The hood is pulled up over his head casting his face in shadows. The staff is on his back, a familiar weight, though he has not had one in so very long. He moves to the mage guild and walks inside. It's quiet, most of the mages have gone for the day. He looks around and heads upstairs, browsing through the books. He hisses. So very many books. His claws move to one and he takes it down before continuing his search.

"I'm Brei, Need help finding something?"

Viperish Night freezes, his head moving slightly. A male Breton in a mage's robe. Viperish Night's claws catch on the bag and he withdraws the crystal. "What is this?" he says.

Brei takes it with a gasp and holds it up to the light. "An Ayleid memory crystal!" he hands it back to Viperish Night and breezes through the books. "Here, this will tell you about them and how to use them. It's a little tricky, but there are Ayleid ruins all over the place."

Viperish Night holds the blue crystal up before putting it back and then tucking the book under his arm. "This next." he puts the pot in Brei's eager hands. "I need it tested for poison. And this." he gives Brei the amulet. "Test it for hidden traps."

"You are full of goodies," Brei says as he marches over to the alchemy table. "Sabri, can you test this for me?" he hands the jar to a female Breton with long brown hair. She sighs and takes it.

"Helping with every little thing again, Brei?" she says as she opens the jar and takes a small sample out onto the alchemy table.

"I like being helpful," Brei says. "And this guy has tons of interesting things. I think this is a portal amulet," he says in amazement.

"Of course," she says as she tests the sample not bothering to look up. "Hist sap," she remarks. "Nothing dangerous about it, but you should not drink it if your not an Argonian." Brei takes the pot and hands it back to Viperish Night and hands the amulet to Sabri. She tests it as well, finding nothing sinister about it. "Yes, you are correct. These are really rare. They usually only last a few charges but this one's different. It should last as long as you let it recharge properly." She rises and looks at it. "You would not want to sell it, would you...Sorry did not catch your name."

Viperish Night holds his claws out. "No," he says.

"Thought I'd ask," Sabri says sadly as she moves to give it back, raising her head to look at Viperish Night. She suddenly freezes and the necklace falls from her hands.

Brei catches it. "Sabri! I think he would be mad if you broke it. Sorry, I ..." he looks at Sabri who's turned white and is backing up slowly. "What's wrong?"

Viperish Night snatches the amulet from Brei, his eyes narrowing at Sabri. "You act as if you know me," he says softly. "Why is that?"

Sabri tries to speak but fails. She keeps backing up till she hits a wall. Brei glances at Sabri, then the wall. There is a wanted poster posted on the wall. Slowly Brei looks back at Viperish Night. The candlelight is just at the right angle to cast his face in stark relive from beneath his hood, the crimson scars vivid in the flickering light. "I am an idiot." Brei breaths. "Hey, we helped you, right? We won't tell anyone you stopped by. So just be on your merry way?"

Viperish Night's hand shoots forward and he grabs Brei's robe, hosting him up in the air and he tosses him toward the window, Brei crashes through it and falls to the ground below with a sickening thump. Sabri turns her head away. "Please..." she says.

"Please what?" Viperish Night says in an icy voice. "Have mercy?" he grabs her by the throat and she struggles, whimpering in fear. "Mercy was drowned in the river." he says, tightening his grip and snapping her neck before tossing her out the window as well." he stalks to the poster and stares at it. His face looks back at him. Under the drawn picture of his face is various words, warnings. Wanted and necromancy stands out. How did...he tilts his head. The Dunmer...did they keep records? They must have. Viperish Night hisses and moves to the window. No one heard the crash. He stares down at the bodies before leaping out the window, landing nimbly on the ground. The two mage's body's jerk as they rise as the undead. He does prefer skeletons, but that may leave evidence behind, though the window...perhaps he had been a little rash with that. Viperish Night shrugs and walks out of town, the two zombies following him. He'll ditch them where no one will find them, at least for a little while.


-The Cave-

Zirasha stalks the cave, Mentor's eyes following her the whole time. "He gave you a way out, so stop pacing like a trapped animal." Mentor snaps at her. "It's giving me a headache."

Zirasha turns on him and snarls. "My knife right there," she says, pointing right between her eyes. "Whatever your name is. You know what, I'm going to call you pond scum."

"You are a perfectly charming Altmer, aren't you?" Mentor says sarcastically.

Zirasha's eyes turn murderous and she spins stalking as far away from the pond scum as she can, picking a rock to sit on in the far corner. Her knife is suddenly in her hands and she starts to idly play with it. Being cooped up waiting...it made her want to leave Almost. She would...if not for what Stalks-In-Darkness whispered to her. She would stay for him. Steal for him. Kill for him. All for what he promised and what the whisper convinced her he spoke truth. The blade spins in her hands and finally comes to rest as Zirasha settles down somewhat. She puts it away before she's tempted to use it. She glances back and glares at pond scum. Perfect...that had always been the problem. Her race strived for it, Alaxon. She had run away from it when she turned eighteen, unable to imagine her life striving for it, and for living up to her family's expectations. She knew little of the world outside of Summerset and ran far away. Too far during a time of strife and war and insanity and when what happened, happened, it utterly shattered her and she did what anyone would do. She went home. Zirasha's eyes close. Damn that pond scum. Bringing up these kind of memories.

Somehow Zirasha had made it out of Cyrodiil after. The journey was a shards of memory mixed in a swirl of fear and horror. Danger had been everywhere. Daedra, necromancers, Imperials, and outside armies from other lands. It was chaos, it was something she should have never been able to escape from in her current state. But somehow she made it out of that cursed place and found a Thalmor embassy. Requested that they return her home. All she had to do is drop her family name, and that was all it took to have them get her home as fast as possible. She never told them what happened, and when she returned home, she never told her family either. Just returned like a little meek mouse willing to return to the Altmer way of life after a slight detour.

Zirasha sits in front of the fancy table with the gilded mirror, the sounds of a gathering drifting up from downstairs. Two weeks of stony silence from her parents, utterly disappointed in her. Until the silence broke. Merindil wished to begin the long courtship dance with her and her parents greatly approved of Merindil and his bloodline. It would pair perfectly with Zirasha's illustrious line. Zirasha had not been able to say no. The look in her parent's eyes said it all. You disappointed us once, now you must become a proper Altmer female and bring honor to us all, and strive for Alaxon. Be the perfect Altmer you should want to be.

Zirasha picks up the jeweled hairbrush, running it through her perfect Altmer hair. Long and so blond it was near white, it brought out the beauty in her blue-green eyes. Those eyes look up at the mirror and what Zirasha sees in them is not beauty and perfection, but fear and despair. "Pretty Little Altmer." the words ring in Zirasha's head and she suddenly snarls and throws the brush at the mirror shattering it. The pieces cascade over the table and floor. A large one shimmers at her, as long as a knife. Zirasha picks it up, holding it in her right hand. Pretty little Altmer. Perfect little Altmer. Her eyes narrow. She will not HAVE it! She will not have this life, this perfect visage staring back at her. Zirasha grabs her hair with her left hand, her perfect hair, and starts to butcher it with the mirror shard ignoring the pain as it cuts into her hand. Soon most of her pretty perfect hair is littering the ground and table. Zirasha's remaining hair is short and jagged now. But...it is not enough. Her hair will grow back, someone will style it and trim it and it will be perfect again. Her hand shakes and she stares at her face in the shard. Zirasha brings the shard up and slashes it down her perfectly shaped Altmer ear and down her perfectly crafted face Blood wells up and streams down, splattering her gorgeous dress with crimson. She throws the shard across the room as a knock comes at her door. She turns her head toward it.

"Zirasha, you will be late, are you not dressed yet?"

Her Mother. "A few more minutes," she says, and only when her Mother's footsteps fade does she stand. She opens the door and walks to the stairs and descends them. Everyone is waiting for her to appear and be a perfect little Altmer. It's expected after all.

"There you are..." Her mother freezes, the wine glass falling from her hands to shatter on the ground. The rest of the guests stare at Zirasha in utter disbelief. Zirasha, dressed in the finest of gowns, that is now streaked with blood. Her hair shorn in uneven jagged cut. And the most heinous of all, the jagged wound that will leave a scar that can never be undone, or hidden from view.

"Is this a joke?" Merindil says with a shocked look of horror on his face.

Her Father stares at her the anger written on his face. Zirasha smiles. "Am I not a perfect pretty Altmer?" Zirasha asks.

Her Mother gasps and faints, crashing to the floor. Her Father's eyes narrow. "Leave, Zirasha," he says icily. "You have disgraced us for the last time. This time, do not return."

"That is my intent." Zirasha snarls and walks through the guests to the door. Every single one of them shys away from her as if her imperfection is contagious. Her eyes hold nothing but contempt for them as she slams open the door and leaves, for the last time.

Again Zirasha stows away on a boat, and it is to Auridon that she ends up in. She has nothing, and so she finds a house off the beaten path and breaks in, stealing clothes, gold, anything she can sell. Her hands finger a knife and suddenly she freezes. Someone has returned home. She cannot move, cannot breathe as an Altmer comes up to her and grabs her arm. "Damn thief, You dare? I will summon the authorities." he snaps at her.

Zirasha's hand curls on the knife and she suddenly turns, the knife flashing and sinking into his chest. The Altmer's eyes lock on hers as he struggles to breathe and finally sinks to the floor dead. Zirasha looks down at him and a smile creeps across her face. He caught her, but he was the one that was hurt. That was dead. She bends down looking at him. Dead, dead, dead. She rips the knife out and rises, spinning in some demented dance. That was...that felt good. Zirasha laughs. She wants to do it again!

Zirasha's eyes open as the memories fade. That Altmer had been the first one she killed, but not the last. Her life from that point had been breaking in, getting caught, and killing. She knew she could flee before she got caught, but every time fear filled her and something kept her frozen. And then when they tried to catch her, she killed them. Trying to erase the memories, the fear in her eyes in part. But a larger part...she liked it. Liked the feel of her blade sinking into their flesh, of blood pouring out. It had got her noticed in time. She had been in East March at the time when a cloaked figure had come to her one night. Offered her a life of murder...but she declined his offer, for he told her she would have to obey. And that was something Zirasha refused, and so she refused the Brotherhood's offer.

Zirasha glances back over at Pond scum. "How long will it take?" she asks him. She knows what she is to do, but waiting for the right moment...

Mentor looks up at her. "Try to have patience, if your able to do that. It should be soon."

Soon. Zirasha scowls and leans against the wall. Waiting with nothing to do and memories intruding. She closes her eyes, her hand never leaving her knife as she falls into a shallow sleep.