Two Imperials got married, and their friends sent them gifts
The Khajiit and Wood Elf stole the gifts they sent, and then tried to steal from each other
The Orc didn't bother wrapping his
The Dark Elf sent urns made from volcanic ash
The Argonian was the usher, so didn't bother sending a gift
The High Elf couldn't be bothered to show up, and was too cheap to send much
The Nord gave a few gold coins, before taking advantage of the open bar
Nevermind that the White-Gold Concordate was signed two hundred years ago. Nevermind that the Nords never really did appreciate the treaty and further resented the banning of Talos from the Divines. Nevermind that Nords and Elves never really got along well anyway.
Sibylla had a healthy dislike for Thalmor.
The Thalmor were the new ruling order in the High Elf province of Summerset Isle. In short time they had managed to gain control of the Wood Elf home of Valenwood and before long they practically had sway over the Khajitt in Elsweyr. A terrible war broke out between the Thalmor ruling government known as the Aldmeri Dominion and the Cyrodillic Empire.
The Empire managed to fight the Dominion to a standstill, just barely. Even then, both military powers were effectively decimated but the Empire was in a clear disadvantage. Nonetheless, a treaty was signed giving further concessions to the Aldmeri Dominion to at least buy some peace for the Empire, maybe a chance to recuperate.
It did not work well. Hammerfell did not appreciate the terms and continued the fight against the Dominion and was rejected by the rest of the Empire. Skyrim was divided over the matter and before anyone knew it a civil war broke out in the northern province.
Part of the treaty involved the banning of the worship of Talos. Talos was no longer to be considered a man who was elevated to the status of a Divine but as simply a great hero. Anyone caught worshipping Talos was subject to Aldmeri persecution, something the Thalmor were all too happy to enforce. This ban was mostly enforced by Thalmor Justiciars who were headquartered in scattered locations across the Empire.
The previous Nine Divines of the Empire became the Eight Divines as it originally was in old times. For the Nords of Skyrim who had a particular connection to Talos, as the man was a Nord himself, this was especially insulting. Sure, Sibylla felt that sting just as any one of her kinsmen.
But mostly, she hated Elves who thought that by sheer virtue of being themselves, they were better than everyone else. She felt that alone was good enough reason to crush their noses in. Her white knuckled, clenched fist was proof enough of that.
"Ah Sibylla, I see you've been waiting patiently." Archon Tacitus' voice broke the woman's tunnel vision.
"...Y-yes." Sibylla stammered, still not able to stop staring into the Thalmor agent's arrogant countenance.
"This is Delamar. He is the new Thalmor head of the Justiciars here in Wayrest." Archon Tacitus introduced, still sitting as his desk.
"Well, congratulations." Sibylla said with a nod, regaining her composure.
"Yes." Delamar murmured, still looking down at the Nord.
Delamar had the usual dull gold skin of most High Elves. Not all High Elves were key agents of the Aldmeri Dominion and the Thalmor that led it. Most High Elves were indeed arrogant but the Thalmor brought it to a whole different level and Delamar was no different from any Thalmor Sibylla met. From their gaze to their mannerisms, everything about them seemed to remind you that you were not a Thalmor like them, and therefore they saw you as a lesser thing.
Divines, she wanted so badly to cave his nose in with her fist.
"Delamar was particularly interested in you and the rest of the team. He thinks his men could learn something from you, Claudia, Bann-Je and Do'Ravier." Tacitus added.
That left a bitter taste in Sibylla's mouth. She had to admit, the Vigilant of Stendarr and the Thalmor Justiciars had some similarities. They both hunted down groups of heretical worshippers but to Sibylla, that's where the comparison broke down.
Daedra were dangerous, that was no doubt. The only danger Talos worshippers posed was to the make believe world the Thalmor wanted to construct.
"I see." Sibylla forced herself to say politely.
She could not have been more relieved to see Do'Ravier, Bann-Je and Claudia show up.
"Delamar, I will have to ask that you wait outside while I address this team of Vigilants. We will work out the collaboration later." Tacitus said.
Sibylla was more than happy to close the door in the Thalmor's face once all of them had stepped inside.
"So let me get this straight. We're going to have to play dress up?" Claudia demanded, eyes wide with disbelief.
"More or less, yes." Tacitus nodded.
"I think that's more of the 'more' and less of the 'less.'" Do'Ravier smirked.
"Your last mission showed that at least one noble here has decided to cavort with Daedra. We have been getting whispers of that for the past few months now but you brought the first hard piece of evidence. Now we have reason to act." Archon Tacitus explained with a shrug.
"Last time I checked, I thought I took care of him. Those whispers should go away." Bann-Je defended.
"From what we've been hearing, it's far more than one person. That's why this festival gives us an opportunity to gather more information as well as nail someone we have been hearing a lot of chatter about, someone further up than Landuc ever was." Tacitus replied.
"How about we go over the plan one last time for this one?" Do'Ravier requested with a raised paw.
"Okay, here we go." Claudia said, raising her hands while watching the Archon, ready to recite the plan.
"The Duke Aaron Budielle is holding a ball where most of the other nobles have been invited to attend. The party is being held in honor of the Empire's continued pledge of the White-Gold Concordate. The problem is, a lot of rumors have been going on about this festival and Duke Budielle himself. Associates and servants of the Duke have been seen in areas known for Daedra cultist activity. We need to go in to make sure that there's nothing fishy going on and maybe nab a cultist or two if we can find one." Claudia recited.
"Correct." Archon Tacitus nodded in approval.
"I'm just having problems with the whole 'dress up' part." Do'Ravier admitted unhappily.
"Do'Ravier, we can't go in there wearing our armor or robes." Claudia replied with a roll of her eyes.
"Yes but you and Sibylla get to go in as lesser nobles and merchants." Do'Ravier grumbled.
"The Khajiit and I are stuck as servants." Bann-Je pointed out.
"I'm sorry, but...no offense, but can you think of a more plausible cover up for you guys?" Archon Tacitus offered.
The Khajiit let out a defeated sigh.
"No." Do'Ravier admitted.
"The ball is in three days. Preparations have been made. How else you want to prepare is up to you." Archon Tacitus said before dismissing them.
Claudia understood that everyone deals with stress in different ways. There was no way to sugar coat it. Their jobs carried an element of danger. Though no one may have wanted to discuss it, there was always the possibility that their next mission could also be their last. Claudia always felt that it was the ambiguous missions that were the worst. There was no clear sense of danger, no obvious sense that there were overwhelming odds that almost certainly spelled death. Yet, there was still that inescapable fact that all it took was one stray arrow, one unexpected trap, one underestimated piece of intelligence and the mission could end in lost lives.
How do you prepare for a mission where you both intend to live past it yet want to take that one measure of preparation just in case?
Claudia started to notice that Sibylla visiting the tavern more often. Claudia decided to follow her on one occasion. After all, she had to be keeping an eye out on the members of her team.
"So what exactly have you been doing here?" Claudia asked over the din of the tavern chatter.
It was not completely out of place to see Cult of Divine clergy in a tavern. After all, other than the market square the tavern was the most popular hang and social meeting place for most people in Wayrest. Furthermore, beverages with a slight alcoholic content could be a tad bit safer than the water. The water supply could be tainted with diseases. Alcohol would kill any bacteria in the drink.
This particular tavern was close to the Cathedral in the main part of the city. The floor was tiled with polished, smooth stone while the walls had a rustic look of rough wood boards. The owners did their best to keep it clean but that varied throughout the day. Despite the wide, clean glass windows, the interior always seemed just a little bit dim as smoke hung around over sparse, lit candles.
"Getting a drink." Sibylla shrugged as the bartender slide a tankard of mead to her.
"It's not even afternoon yet, only late morning." Claudia chided.
"Says the Imperial with the ale." Sibylla snickered.
"...Okay, so you got me." Claudia joked, taking a sip.
"Everyone thinks that us Nords have a great aversion to being sober. That could not be further from the truth. You see, Nords don't get drunk. We just drink." Sibylla laughed.
"You do this often before a mission?" Claudia asked curiously.
"I do this all the time. How do you think I make it through all those mornings listening to half those people coming for advice?" Sibylla shrugged.
"You think maybe you should consider a more...balanced coping mechanism?" Claudia offered.
"You know, originally I just took a few more mugs of mead before going off on a mission because it was easier to forget about the the danger I would be facing. It was easier to focus on using your weapon and knocking the enemies down if you weren't so worried that maybe you might make a mistake and that would be your last." Sibylla admitted.
"Is that why you still do it?" Claudia asked, taking another sip of the ale.
"Nah, I just really like mead." Sibylla replied.
The two sat in silence until they were done. There was still the shadow of the mission that needed to be done still hanging over their heads.
A cathedral usually has smaller shrines and alcoves meant for private devotion or meditation. Most people usually paid a quick visit, left an offering, a quick prayer maybe a couple minutes of thought and then they were off. However, there were a few more dedicated faithful who came in regularly. Some of them came on a daily basis and probably lingered a little longer near the shrine but inevitably they would be gone.
What was unusual was to have two of the priests meditating by the shrine to Stendarr. Namely, Do'Ravier and Bann-Je.
To the observing eye, meditation looks like a lot of unproductively happening. This is mostly due to the fact that meditation is a mental exercise and like any exercise, the uninitiated might find it hard at first. It is only after diligent perseverance that someone starts to find the benefits of meditation.
Even then, meditating has no standardized rule.
Bann-Je would spend the eve of battle focusing his mental psyche back into Squints his Eye, his sinister alter ego who was far less neurotic. Do'Ravier use meditation to work himself into a state of serenity and focus, preparing himself mentally and spiritually. After all, he figured he would probably want his soul to be ready in the event he did not make it. He accomplished this ideal by meditating on the Divines and their virtues.
Still, like any exercise, meditation could sometimes require breaks.
Do'Ravier opened his eyes halfway, appearing rather sleepy as his whiskers twitched for a moment. He placed a paw on his face, if only to brace himself because he did not realize just how much he had exhausted himself sitting still and concentrating for so long. Either that or he was bored.
"Why are you so obsessive compulsive?" the Khajiit blurted.
Bann-Je ignored him, too dead set on getting himself into his altered mindset.
Realizing he was being ignored, Do'Ravier simply grunted and got back to meditating.
"You two, you're on the Imperial's team, aren't you?" a cold, authoritative voice demanded.
This time, both the Khajiit and Argonian opened their eyes to see who was speaking to them. Standing a good several feet above them with a haughty face and suspicious eyes was a Thalmor.
Delamar.
"Well?" Delamar demanded, wanting his answer.
"Yes." Do'Ravier replied.
Bann-Je felt himself get nervous. You did not have to be a patriot of the Empire or a hot blooded Nord of Skyrim to dislike the Thalmor. After all, they were Elven supremacist. Any supremacist had a tendency to kill social likability. Bann-Je did not believe he was anti-Thalmor personally, but that did not mean he trusted them either. To Bann-Je, Thalmor were like taxmen. You followed their instructions and you worked with them but that did not mean you liked them. Therefore he was not too keen with Do'Ravier complying so easily. Bann-Je was not completely sure Claudia would approve of this.
He hated when Claudia was in a bad mood. She'd be barking at them all day.
"Good, I have a few questions for you two then." Delamar announced, still gazing contemptuously down on them, as if he only spoke to those of the beast race if he had absolutely ran out of all other options.
"Perhaps you should be asking our superior, Claudia. Or the Archon." Bann-Je offered carefully.
"Nonesense, I do believe that even those of lesser statue can be perfectly capable of honesty. And dishonesty for that matter as well." Delamar said coldly.
"What do you wish to know, Justiciar?" Do'Ravier asked complacantly.
"Ah good, a Khajiit that knows his place. Tell me, do you believe there to be a large number of Talos worshippers here in Wayrest, or High Rock for that matter?" Delamar inquired, eyes studying both of them.
"This one is simply a priest of Stendarr. The worship of Talos has been banned. Do'Ravier would be obligated to turn in such rebels if he found any. This one has not found any such dissidents." the Khajiit replied.
"Yes, but not everyone has your sense of obedience, cat." Delamar murmured.
Bann-Je was really not liking this elf.
"And can I expect this kind of dedication to the ban of Talos from your leader, Claudia?" Delamar demanded of the both of them.
"This one is certain of that, yes." Do'Ravier nodded.
Appearing to be appeased, at least momentarily, Delamar watched them from over his contemptuous nose for a moment before walking away. His dark, sinister Thalmor robes seemed to take the cold with them as the Aldmeri agent left.
"I don't know if we should be answering all his questions without Claudia knowing." Bann-Je growled to Do'Ravier.
"Trust me, just tell them what they want to hear. Life is easier that way." the Khajiit replied.
Bann-Je held his two bound swords as only a conjurer familiar with their use could. Conjured blades and weapons felt much different from material blades for they were as light as a feather and gave practically no resistance when swung through the air. For some people, this could be quite unnerving if not a bit dangerous. It was not unheard of for mages to badly injure themselves when using such wondrous weapons.
Bann-Je constantly had to spar with them, making his use of the magic far more effective as well as keeping his form and use of them. He especially wanted to feel prepared for their use this time. Sure, he probably had called on their use countless times by now and they had not failed him yet. However, this time he, and Do'Ravier as well, would be going in without weapons. While Do'Ravier probably had command over dozons of offensive spells, these bound swords were the only form of hostile magic he knew.
It was the middle of the evening and he was in one of the closed chapels, behind closed doors and away from prying eyes. He spared with an invisible enemy as if fighting off a ghost. Perhaps that was only fitting for his blades were ethereal themselves. Many an unwary target found themselves killed by something they barely saw, an Argonian camouflaged under invisibility, striking out with blades that were lighter than air.
He heard footsteps approaching.
Both blades vaporized as Bann-Je sheepishly stood straight, clasped his hands together as if in prayer and faced the shrine. He lowered his eyes to the floor, trying to look like he had been this way for awhile.
He was shy about training. It was part of his compulsion. If they did not see him train, they would not think him to be an assassin. If they did not think he was an assassin then he had already won.
The door opened to reveal Claudia stepping inside.
"Bann-Je, what are you doing here?" Claudia asked.
"Just uh...contemplating..."
Which chapel was he in again?
"Akatosh! I was contemplating Akatosh." Bann-Je lied, noticing the shrine in front of him.
"Ah, good choice." Claudia said before taking a seat in a pew next to the lizard.
The two were left in silence. Perhaps Claudia was contemplating the Divines but Bann-Je had other things on his mind. Sure he was staring at the shrine but he was more focused on temporal things.
"Has the Thalmor leader spoken to you yet?" Bann-Je asked.
"No, but I'm sure he will when he wishes to. Does he worry you?" Claudia asked.
"Never dealt with Thalmor. He's someone I would not want to cross." Bann-Je replied.
"Keep it that way. I have enough trouble to deal with as it is." Claudia answered quietly.
Bann-Je decided he should leave Claudia alone so she could have a few moments to herself. He decided that she above all people deserved at least that. Being a leader could not be easy.
Three days came and went. Sure, they kept up with their routines and did their private rituals of preparing themselves whichever way they felt necessary. While the Divines might have endorsed their work, in the end it was still on their part to get the job done. Supplies had to be gathered, details had to be worked out and all too importantly prayers were made. Even then, the team realized they did not have much to go on and they were going in blind. This was all the more reason to pray.
Evening had come, the lights were on and the music was playing. The festival was on. At the large mansion where the party was hosted people thronged in numbers while an army of servants saw to every need that arose.
Arriving on the scene were four people. Sibylla and Claudia wore fine dresses of an elegance that they were not used to. Jewelry of rather expensive make hung where appropriate though the two took care not to look too gaudy. Neither were fond of the idea of being living ornaments. Meanwhile, Bann-Je and Do'Raiver were doing their best to appreciate the plain clothes of servants they were expected to wear. Both wore matching uniforms of khaki colored trousers, white formal shirts with a black vest to go over. Do'Ravier particularly did not seem thrilled with the get up. He preferred his mages robe. The sheer size and activity going on at the mansion was enough to boggle the mind. In fact, all four of them stood in awe, trying to figure out how they were going to accomplish their mission.
"So...shall we crash this party?" Do'Ravier asked.
"Sure." Claudia shrugged.
"Could you boys try to sneak off a cask of mead while you're doing your servant thing for me?" Sibylla requested.
Author's note: A certain game is being released next week. I'm going to apologize ahead of time if updates slow down.