Have you fallen? No, you have not failed. Get up and fight again. Should you fall, get up and fight again. Keep going until you have triumphed. You have only failed should you decide not to get up again.

There were many ways to describe this place. Cold, freezing, dank, drafty, depressing, dark. The cells of the prison that was in the Thalmor HQ was larger than Claudia could have guessed, not that she ever wanted to. She never got a good look anyway and even still, she was able to gather that it was quite sizeable. The place was filthy and the cells too far away from the heat of the hearth. A pile of mouldy straw served as an inadequate bed while a decrepit bucket functioned as a privy.

It filled her with anger. This was wrong. Screw whatever similitude Delamar tried to make between her, her team and the Inquisition she worked for to him and his justiciars. They made sure the people they incarcerated and eliminated were guilty and did not hold them without a cause. This? This was madness, oppression on a wide scale. They were up to something, Claudia could feel it.

However, that paled in comparison to the last description that seemed to hang dripping, eerily over the whole ordeal; fear. Terror seemed to fill every pore of this place and threatened to choke your throat trying to slither down your chest.

She could hear their screaming. The weeping, choked cries and wails of her fellow priests and acolytes whose only crime was associating with accused Talos worshippers. She bet Do'Ravier and Sibylla were not even sincere in their confession. Knowing those two, they were just trying to get a point across. Claudia scowled angrily at that thought. If the rumors were true, they must have done something violent somewhere in the city streets. The Thalmor refused to talk about. She demanded to see Delamar on the matter but he didn't show either.

But there was something heart rending about hearing your fellow prisoners scream in agony and realize that you feel partially responsible for it. She couldn't even see them either, could not offer any words of condolences or promise vengeance. She was stuck in here with the rest of them. There was also one last thought that was slowly driving her mad.

Why hadn't they come to torture her yet?

Two conspirators met in shadowed gloom away from prying eyes. They spoke in quiet voices that just recently became accustomed to such tones. They moved slowly if at all, trying to become like the environment around them. Secluded from any who would notice, they shared a hushed conversation.

"What you said to Delamar, is any of that true? What you did?"

"You heard that?"

"I'm an assassin. You know I can disappear and be one with your own shadow."

"It is true."

"You never struck me as the deranged killer."

"I was angry and then I stopped. After I felt enough was enough and the message got across."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"No."

"Then there is hope for you yet. Are you sure this plan is going to work, the one that will get them out of there?"

"It's the only plan we have and in essence, their only hope."

"Divines help us."

The days started to string together. Was it even a day? She couldn't tell. It was hard to measure time in this place. There was barely any light that she could see, the windows were too far away. Their captors lit torches but only sometimes. She was sure they occasionally skipped giving them meals. Not even the periods of time that they would be tortured was regular.

Gods, the confounded torture.

She could hear them screaming from time to time. Priests, priestesses even the young acolytes no older than twelve were sometimes tormented. She couldn't tell what exactly though she was becoming convinced she could hear the sizzling of flesh sometimes. She even heard the voice of Tacitus howling. That had only happened once or twice though. She did not like the sound of how his ended. How long ago was that? She wasn't sure because she couldn't measure time.

And they never touched her. Not once. It was driving her to new levels of rage and anger that she did not know she had. It was the only thing keeping her focused as she laid on her side, curled up in a ball in her cell. Usually she lied there, blinking only when she had to. She had to make them think they broke her. She just needed the barest fraction of an opportunity and then she would make them pay for every blow, every cut, every slight against one of the innocent that they had committed all for their convoluted agenda.

She had to think that, to convince herself that they had not in fact broke her.

She heard a shrill scream echo through her cell bars. She made one more vow to smite them when she got out. Oh gods, please let her get out.

Alaviera walked from the courtyard towards the main keep of their base. It was dark out tonight. Snow fell lightly from the heavens as the clouds above blocked out the moon and stars. For their part, the Thalmor were uneasy. Delamar had been slain right under their noses and a whole guard had been wiped out. It was anyone's guess how that happened and they were still trying to figure that one out. To make matters worse, the Wayrest guards had no leads on the matter either. That did not even include that they had a whole cathedral's worth of Imperial Cult staff in their dungeons and now they were torturing them for some unknown purpose. They lacked direction without Delamar.

And they were still awaiting orders for who was next to ascend to command in his place. The Aldmeri Dominion would send in a replacement soon enough. In the meantime, a loose body of the more senior officials were trying to keep things organized. There was something wrong about the whole thing. She just could not understand how Delamar and his guard was killed without anyone noticing. Granted, from what she had seen working with the Vigilants, few people if any in Wayrest were going to be inclined to volunteer information to them. She couldn't blame them.

Even more horrific was the fact that whatever got Delamar, it scorched his body to bone and ash. At least, they assumed that it was Delamar's remains. His was the only body they couldn't identify in the carnage and a blood trail from the original site led to that charred heap. No one could be certain as to what exactly killed him if it wasn't the fire. What would drive someone or something to do that? Right there in the middle of the city no less?

Alaviera hesitated before stepping inside the keep and out of the cold. She looked up towards the ramparts and wondered if there seemed to be fewer torches, and therefore guards, than usual. Come to think of it, she could not see one at all. That was odd. She would have to look into that later. She shrugged as she stepped inside. It was quite possible that the watches were being changed or that they had all gone on one side of the wall at the moment.

Truth be told her concerns were not completely unfounded. One of the guards up on the walls started to wonder the same thing. He could see no other torch lights and there should have been at least several more in the night. Squinting so that he could peer into the gloom, he found nothing amiss. Still, where was the rest of the watch?

His hand fell to the glass dagger at his waist. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was something wrong about this night. The snow muffled noise, the dark in the air. Not even the usual sounds of the evening forest seemed to reach his ears. And still, there was nothing. Was he becoming paranoid?

He felt something hit him and before he quite knew what was going on he felt the cold of stone and freezing snow on his stomach. He thought he cried out but a fuzzy thing was blocking his mouth and several sharp claws were digging into his cheeks. He heard a giggling, sinister voice whisper in his ear.

"Sharza sees that you have a pretty glass dagger. Can Sharza have it?"

A blade plunged into the back of his neck and it was all darkness from there. Another body joined the others in being thrown off the fort ramparts.

Alaviera could hear the group of senior officers discoursing and occasionally arguing further in the keep. She was on break and she did not appreciate the noise. It was disturbing her meal. That in itself was mild fare enough. Salted cabbage, beef and a boiled potato was not the most comforting food, especially since it had been awhile since the contents on her plate had been heated. At least the tea was warm.

She heard their bickering hit a crescendo.

"For the love of Phynaster, shut up!"

She sighed and finished what was left of her food. As she sat letting it digest, she wondered if there was anything she was forgetting before she turned in for the night. She'd have to polish her equipment first and made sure there was no moisture on it. Ugh, things just seemed so disorganized without Delamar barking at them and keeping them organized.

An unholy and bone rattling roar echoed across the keep and shook them from their feet. All of the Thalmor glared at each other as they picked themselves up while several yelled questions and protests. Alaviera then realized that she forgot about her former plan to check on the watch. Grabbing her sword, she rushed for the door. She flung it wide open and gazed out into the courtyard. There was nothing that could have prepared her for what she saw. In fact, she was not sure what it was before her. Nonetheless, there was no denying one very blatant fact.

It was huge.

The thing, whatever it was, stood twelve feet tall, steam, smoke and sparks bellowing and belching from vents in its apparently mechanical frame. Alaviera was vaguely reminded of a Dwarven construct but those things never ventured from their ruins. Also, they didn't have...THAT scrawled on its brestplate.

A symbol associated with the Talos was burnt to its front.

"What in Oblivion is that?" one of the soldiers next to her demanded.

"I...I don't know."

What they didn't talk about was the legends of Tiber Septim, the man who became Talos. During his reign the emperor had a powerful construct called Numidium with which he used to help carve out what would become the Cyrodillic Empire. It was of Dwarven origin...and here was something that closely resembled an avatar. And it was barreling right towards them. Its purposeful steps sounded as it smashed through the gates, rock and masonry flying in all directions. One of its limbs ended in a massive claymore. The other became a reaping, ax like scythe.

"Form up the guards and stop that thing. I have to warn the others." Alaviera warned the soldier.

She never bothered to check and see just how they were going to accomplish that and she did not care. She never had any confidence of them being able to stop it in the first place.

Down in the dungeons, dust billowed down from the ceiling with every heavy footstep they heard. At least, Claudia thought they were footsteps. That was the only thing she could think of them being. It was jarring, though. What was that thing making so much noise above them? Why weren't the guards stopping it? Were they trying and failing? If so, then what in Tamriel was out there? The worst part was being locked in a cage.

She could hear the others in their cells. Most were too weak or broken to panic though she could hear a few hollering. There was something inhumane about being locked in a cell with imminent danger barreling your way and no way to do anything about it.

Then she could hear yelling and screaming coming from the outside. Those definitely had to belong to the guards. It was impossible to hear exactly what they were saying. Nonetheless, Claudia figured that was a pointless exercise. Anyone who has heard it knows the sound of a mortal scream being extinguished into a final gasp before no more breaths are taken.

Claudia did not care about that. She wanted them all to die. However, she did care that the sounds of heavy things were steadily getting closer to her. The screaming had stopped but the thunder of the footfalls were getting closer. Knowing it was useless but unable to contain her fear, Claudia backed into the furthest corner of the cell that she could. It didn't do her much for it was only a few pitiful steps.

The ceiling above them opened up with a thunderous crunch. A deafening roar followed as rocks fell to the floor while the spine tingling sound of metal scraping against stone hit their ears. Claudia saw a burst of light and the noise of so much fire hit her ears before she heard what sounded like so much metal collapsing to the ground.

And then...all was silent...except for the sound of scraping and rapid movements. What was that? As she breathed raggedly, trying to keep from hyperventilating, Claudia realized she was going to remember this as one of her least favorite nights.

Alaviera rushed higher up the keep but found no one. It was frightening to say the least. Where had everyone gone? Was she the last one left alive? Vaguely in the back of her mind she understood that she had ceased to hear the sounds of the large dwarven construct but adrenaline forbade her from stopping. She needed to find her superiors. She needed-

Alaviera exploded out one of the doors and into the cold in an instant. She wanted to get back to her feet and catch her breath but quickly found that was impossible. She was pinned to the ground, something was hunched over her, planting her face into the snow. She promptly felt cold, scaly hands latch calmly on the back of her head and chin. She heard a whisper in her ear.

"Do you recognize this voice?"

"Y-yes." Alaviera squeaked. There was no mistaking that it was Bann-Je even if she could not see him.

"Then you know how bad your situation is with your head in my grasp like this, right?"

"Yes." she whimpered.

"I have a question for you. Answer it carefully, for your life hangs on it. I always wondered, was there someone among us that you were ordered to execute?"

"...Yes."

"...I take it you failed in doing so."

"Yes."

She heard his tongue flick in and out of his mouth as if trying to smell the slightest scent of a lie in the air.

"Well, then I guess I'll have to fail in this task. Go back to your leaders, dissuade them from continuing any more actions against the people of Wayrest." Squints his Eye ordered darkly.

"And what of the keep? How do I explain what happened?"

"I don't know, make something up or blame that machine."

Alaveria was going to ask but screamed as Squints his Eye promptly tossed her over the rampart. She hit the snow with a heavy thud, feeling the wind violently knocked from her lungs for a second time. It took a moment for her to realize but she was still alive if battered. She didn't linger for long. She understood she had been given one last chance at life and one that was grudgingly given.

She heard those iron hinges of the door creak open. But they weren't her own. It did not matter, the ceiling was open and someone or something was orderly opening the cell doors. It didn't sound like it was the Thalmor either. It was all too quiet, much too quiet for her liking. But Claudia had no choice but to wait for her own to open. Her restless mind wondered what it was. Did the Divines hear their prayers and decide to open them with their own hands?

She jumped when a feline figure scrambled outside her own bars and expertly set the locks aside. Claudia momentarily forgot the chill she felt in the air, her robes too thin to fight off the cold as she tried to regain her nerves from the shock of someone startling her. She tried to figure out wht she was seeing.

"S-Sharza?" Claudia blathered.

"Yes." Sharza replied quickly.

"W-...What are you doing here?" Claudia demanded, feeling herself get angry.

She heard others approaching. Before she knew it, she saw Do'Ravier appear from the gloom. He clutched a clearly defunct Dwarven mechanism in his paws. Looking up, she saw the remnants of what had been the large construct.

"Were you controlling that?" Claudia snapped.

"Badly. Imprompt magic and poorly understood technology won't get you far but it got the job done. Can you lead?" Do'Ravier asked.

His face whipped to the side when Claudia slapped him hard across the face.

"Sharza remembers she has one last chore to do. She will leave you." Sharza said quickly, excusing herself from the situation.

"How dare you." Claudia growled through clench teeth, glaring at him.

"Do'Ravier feels like he might have mixed some context here." the Khajiit growled back.

It was that moment that Bann-Je re-materialized from the shadows. Far from shock, Claudia also flashed the anger in her eyes his direction too.

"Both of you! You both disobeyed me! You took took off on your initiative! WE LOST ARCHON TACITUS! HE DIED!" Claudia screamed, feeling herself lose control.

Bann-Je and Do'Ravier both frowned, that was not news they wanted to hear.

"And you two just did what entered your heads and now that you're done you want to just pass it back to me? What are we going to do, you two? Where's Sibylla?" Claudia hammered, tears running down her face. This was not how it was suppose to go. Now there was some Daedric priest out there possibly spreading disease, herself suffering from sort of mutant vampirism, and all of their resources had been shot to Oblivion.

"Claudia, we had to get her out of here. She's making her way to Hammerfell. Sharza had some smugglers run up the coast near here. We're going to take you all to the ship and make our way across the bay and into Hammerfell." Do'Ravier explained patiently.

"Y-you...that's it? You're shipping us all off to Hammerfell? You didn't bother to ask? Just replant our lives-"

"We don't have a choice, Claudia!" Do'Ravier shouted.

"We always have a choice!" she screamed.

She snapped in Bann-Je's direction when she saw him step towards her.

"I'm sorry, but this is necessary"

Bann-Je brought his palms to his mouth and blew. Claudia saw a cloud of powder splash in her face and then everything went...

"She will sleep for a few hours." Bann-Je said, wiping the powder from his paws as he and Do'Ravier watched Claudia's sleeping form sprawled in the snow.

Do'Ravier massaged his brows in frustration. None of this was supposed to happen like this. None of this should have happened and it was all spiraling out of control. It was written on every stitch of land around them. This fort was in ruins. The prisoners, their former co-workers, were dazed and confused. Their leader was unconscious at their feet of their own doing. They weren't in control, they were simply putting out fires.

"Pick her up and lead the others out of here. Sharza and I need to put this place to the torch."

That evening, the Thalmor headquarters burned while the broken remains of a Dwarven construct sat in its courtyard. A lone Thalmor soldier the only survivor to carry the message back to her superiors while a crowd of disillusioned and frightened refugees struck for a ship to get them to the only place they would have a chance in finding safety. When the Thalmor would arrive, they would not be sure what to do with it. Whatever had been in that place had done their hardest to burn the bodies of whatever soldiers they had there. Agent Alaviera was be reassigned back to Alinor for lack of ideas to do with her. Either way, they did not want news of this incident getting out. Delamar had been a loose canon and his methods had been a bit too extreme. Life at Wayrest would have to go back to normal. They would have to plan for different things...

The road from Wayrest leading south the Hammerfell was littered with the battered bodies of thieves and bandits who thought it wise to attack a lone Nord. Such savagery only reflected the woman's frustration and in a way, her mourning. She was on the run for a second time and in this instance she could have very well be fleeing from those who would want her dead. All what laid before her were the unforgiving sands of the Dak'fron Desert.

On a ship heading to Hammerfell and crossing the listless winter waters of the bay, a Khajiit battlemage thanked his partner in crime for all she had sacrificed. She reminded him that the woman he had once loved had been her sister as well. An Argonian sharpened his blades and peered into his world of shades and gray. He did not know what the future had for him, three voices competing for attention in his head and the experience of both extermination and religious leadership under his bloodied belt. An Imperial woman, distraught and disillusioned, paid no words or attention to the ones she had once called her friends. She could hear their heartbeats and knew that they were breaking but she did not know what to do. They were entrusted with an important task and there was still a mage out there with a dark agenda and now no one would be pursuing him. Far more may die from him than the innocents lost in this senseless madness.

Claudia said nothing to them when the boat arrived. She disappeared into the crowds and was soon lost in the Hammerfell sands...

End of Book I