It is when nothing owns you

That you are most truly free

Sometimes this means owning nothing

And even freedom can be crippling

Claudia always knew from the moment she had those three under her command that leaving them for prolonged periods unsupervised would often lead to completely unexpected, sometimes bizarre, results. She had learned a long time ago that especially in the case of Do'Ravier, he was the most likely to go off and do something absolutely insane. He probably would not do it on purpose of course, but for some reason fate always seemed to conspire in ways to put him in ridiculous circumstances. There was a reason that she only paired the Khajiit and Argonian off unless she absolutely had no other choice or she had reasoned that explosions would not be a completely catastrophic outcome. Despite knowing that she should not have been altogether surprised at this, she still was having a hard time swallowing that the psychotic Argonian had become the lord of a tower and the eccentric Khajiit had not blown it up yet.

"Uhh...can you explain how you all got here?" the Imperial sputtered.

"Oh, but you must tell us how you two got here! Wait, let me get our friend." Do'Ravier replied with a grin before shuffling off and disappearing through a sidedoor that led downstairs.

"I'm surprised those two can run a whole tower out here in the middle of nowhere surrounded by bedouins who may or may not be pleasant." Sibylla said, still admiring the architecture of the vast tower.

"They don't do it on their own." the Redguard woman, Sylva, pointed out.

"Hm?"

"By happenstance they've more or less attracted the attention of various people. All of them wanted to help out or learn and didn't have anything better to do. Most of them help patrol around the desert, escorting caravan groups that want a little more security and handling rogue bandits. Not every caravan attack is done by bedouins, you know. A lot of bandits only dress as them just to confuse caravaners. Though to be completely honest, I blame Do'Ravier for most of them being Khajiit. They all get nervous every time I suggest keeping a dog as a pet." Sylva mumbled.

"So where is this merry band of cats?" Sibylla chuckled.

"They're not all cats but they're out now escorting the last caravan group that left."

It was at that moment that Do'Ravier returned, this time leading Bann-Je who did not seemed to have changed in the previous year though they noticed his clothing had gotten a little more fine. He walked up to them and flicked his tongue twice as if to confirm that it was indeed Sibylla and Claudia before him.

"It is so good to see you two." Bann-Je said calmly before giving them both a hug.

Sylva excused herself while Do'Ravier and Bann-Je shuffled them over to the bar. Do'Ravier insisted that Sibylla and Claudia tell their stories first while Bann-Je found some Cyrodill brandy to serve. Claudia noticed that he still kept his ritual of entering and exiting the bar passway three times before permanently staying within it.

"All right, all right. Now it's time for you two to talk. How did you get all the way out here?" Sibylla asked after she and Claudia told their stories.

Do'Ravier yawned. "I know this is unfair but I'm getting tired. Bann-Je, you're probably wide awake, right? Maybe you can tell them?" the Khajiit asked drowsily. Bann-Je simply nodded.

"Very well. I will see you all in the morning. Bann-Je will also show you where you two can stay. Divines know we have plenty of space." he yawned again as he padded towards the staircase ascending the tower.

"That sourpuss. Anyway, if you want, I can get one of the barrels of mead from my camel before you go start that story." Sibylla offered excitedly.

"I'll pass on the mead." Claudia replied uneasily.

"Oh fine, I'll go get it tomorrow. Now, please do begin soon, Bann-Je." The Nord encouraged.

"Yes, yes, now let me find a stool to sit on. Now, you want to hear about everything since when we first stepped off the ship? Yes, of course you do, no one has wanted an assassination done in over a year. Frustration, want to kill something. No, not that, must focus on the story telling." Bann-Je mumbled to himself before looking up at the two women. The way they were staring at him suggested they were rather unsettled by what he just said.

"Heh heh, sorry, it gets loud in my head. Anyway, let me begin the story."

There is not much two members of the beast races can do when dropped off near broke in the foreign city that was Sentinel. Sharza bid them both goodbye deciding that she wanted to make her own path and since that path usually involved getting in trouble with the law, neither Bann-Je nor Do'Ravier wanted to be too involved. That still left the two without friends, connections, a plan and very soon they too would be without coin. Sitting at the docks in their armor and weapons, the two contemplated what their limited options were. They were quickly pushed away by some irate harbor master and deciding they didn't want trouble, concluded they would be better able to assess their options if they toured the city.

The plan and routine they eventually formulated evolved by accident more than premeditation. It started with Do'Ravier noticing Dwemer trinkets in the marketplace. While he asked around for more information on that, Bann-Je went off into the deserts to scavenge for anything that might make a suitable meal in the event that their initial searches proved fruitless. The two were already used to living off the land. The only thing out of place at this point was that they would be camping in the middle of an urban jungle if they could not find some official accommodations. At some point or another, their long term goal was to find a Dwemer ruin and find what kind of opportunities that could be had there.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Bann-Je asked.

"Do you honestly believe we can go back to a simple life? We're wanted by Thalmor, this one doubts some temple will pick us up, your only skills are assassinating and cleaning and Do'Ravier tends to make alchemist angry with his ability to blow up potions. Not to mention everyone has been rather patronizing towards us if not outright hostile. It's not easy being a lizard or a cat here."

"And you suggest we take our chances in an abandoned tower that no one has settled."

"Do you have a better idea? You better state it quick because we don't have any coin left and Do'Ravier is not about to go sell his armor or spear."

"You win. Lets get this over with before. I'm not sure which I want to do more, snap a neck or clean the streets."

The first two days were a simple grind of the Khajiit researching in the library, scouring ancient and current maps while sorting through rumors, landmarks and occasionally harassing merchant vendors. Bann-Je found that scorpions made a plentiful, if crunchy, food supply. At night, they slept in an alley that was a popular place for the local vagabonds though they kept their distance and used a shift system at night just to make sure the others maintained that distance. While roast and occasionally fried scorpion was starting to grow on them, this sort of existence was not something they wanted to develop into a long term habit so both were rather relieved when Do'Ravier made a breakthrough.

Out in the middle of the Alik'r was an abandoned but documented Dwemer tower simply known as Nftudilium. No one had claimed it and for some reason, no one had bothered to further investigate it. Being out in the middle of the desert was a big discouragement. Do'Ravier decided that they might as well try to make it a base of operations. Bann-Je wondered where they were going to find water. The Khajiit argued that considering the Dwarves' love for steam based machinery, if they couldn't secure a well they could at least collect condensation. Bann-Je relented that on the grounds that if he was going to die, this was not a completely bad way to go.
Their next problem was trying to convince a caravan group to allow them to tag along and have some access to their resources. After much haggling, some begging and playing stupid, a caravan did allow them to sign up with them for only half the journey, roughly halfway through the deserts so long as they brought their own resources. After scrounging several abandoned barrels and filling them with water as well as more roasted scorpions and bits of jackals, they left with the merchants. When they left, the locals noticed that the poisonous insects seemingly bounced back to their original numbers after mysteriously thinning out for a bit.

There was nothing to be said about the journey. The two made do being mostly separated from the group, dealing with a constantly leaky water barrel and munching on the scorpions Bann-Je prepared. The Alik'r was a blistering place and Do'Ravier did not appreciate the way it heated up the metal plates of his armor despite being shaded from the sun under his robes. The two were overjoyed to see the tower rising above the desolate sands. The two beasts, as well as the caravan, were relieved to be rid of each other.

The Tower Nftudilium was mostly untouched throughout the ages save for dust and animal droppings everywhere as well as countless vipers and yet more scorpions. Their immediate food needs were quickly met. The two then set about making the place safe while trying to bring some life to it. A lot of cleaning was needed as well as getting some of the more vital machinery up and running.

In retrospect it was almost a wonder they did not kill themselves in the process of getting the tower up and running. Bann-Je was filled with a near murderous need to clean out all the dust and filth while Do'Ravier energetically got to working on the various mechanisms almost haphazardly. At first he often tackled several different projects all at once, never finishing any of them but always working on several a little bit at a time. Bann-Je needed to make sure every room he started on was spotless before he could move on. He started on the main floor and slowly worked his way towards the top. He did not even want to consider what the bottom floors looked like and for awhile slept on the main landing. It got more interesting when Sylva showed up. She and Do'Ravier initially recognized each other in shock but then got into an argument about the tower. Sylva was upset that Do'Ravier got to it first when she had been trying to finance and expedition to get there on her own having noticed it being neglected by most scholars. Ever since then, the two were either excitedly making discoveries or bickering endlessly on how they disagreed with each other over some trivial matter.

There were hard times indeed but they were able to secure a constant source of fresh water from one of the machines underground. Food was easily foraged from the scorpions and other desert wildlife. They were also able to get some of the underground produce farms cultivating again. When the bedouins became curious they quickly had to negotiate the countless different tribes among them. Soon, they were trading supplies with the passing caravans, offering water and shelter for the tired while occasionally granting healing aide to those who were wounded or suffering dehydration. They had to make an initial sacrifice of some of the Dwemer relics, a sacrifice Do'Ravier felt more than Bann-Je but after establishing an initial monetary base, there were able to pick themselves off their feet. Do'Ravier had plenty of Dwemer relics to examine and study, Bann-Je always had plenty to clean.

With money to be made in helping the caravans, the group starting running a small in of sorts. With the sprawling ruins just further networking underground and showing no signs of stopping, any financial tight spots were quickly paid off by throwing artifacts for cash. With Bann-Je the constant face for arriving caravaners, Do'Ravier too busy studying to be bothered with every visitor, he started to take on the title of lord of the tower.

"Wait, so the only reason you became lord of this tower is because no one else wanted to take it and you were the one everyone saw?" Sibylla sputtered, flabbergasted.

"Hm? Yes. That would be the case. Not like it's an official title but the Bedouins respect it and in turn, the caravaners just go with what the Bedouins say. Must clean this stain off the counter." Bann-Je murmured, rubbing at a blemish that neither Claudia nor Sibylla saw.

"Of course these two would be the only ones crazy enough to actually try and do it." Claudia shrugged when the Nord looked at her.

"You are all probably tired. It is getting late. Will have to clean this stain later. It upsets the great clean one. Follow Bann-Je, he will show you your quarters.

"Where do all of the caravaners stay when they arrive?" Claudia asked as they followed the Argonian up the stairs that spiraled upwards along the tower walls.

"They stay on the main floor. They know better than to steal from us, to hurt us would be to hurt them as we both depend on each other to stay alive. They often sleep on bed sheets or makeshift cots. We do not care. You probably met the blacksmith? His name is Muraat. He and his wife live in the little shelter by the tower and the caravaners often pay him to create things or sharpen their weapons. In return, he expects supplies from them. Those who help us maintain the tower sleep in the rooms along here on the first floor above the bottom landing." Bann-Je explained, motioning towards a set of closed door.

"But there are always extra. These two will be yours." he added, pointing to a pair that were opened and seemingly undisturbed.

"What's further up the tower?" Sibylla asked curiously.

"The next two floors are libraries. Most of the books are ancient relics written in the Dwarven script that Do'Ravier hopes to one day translate. He never will. Sylva stays in a small room off to the side of one of them. Do'Ravier has the highest floor to himself. It was decided that in in the likely event he explodes something, it would be be less disastrous if only the top blew up and not somewhere in the middle of the tower that could bring the higher floors crashing down towards the bottom."

"And you sleep on the bottom?"

"First floor below the main landing is mine. Everything below that are the ruins and floors for cultivating produce and cheese making. It is very good to see you two but more questions tomorrow. I am tired." Bann-Je yawned before promptly walking towards the lower floors.

"I think they've honestly had the most fun out of all of us this last year." Sibylla observed.

"Think? I'm pretty sure they did."

Back in Sentinel, Sticky scrutinized the three hooded figures before him. All three were Bosmer, two females, one male. The clothes they wore did not seem to be armored and their robes were plain. Still, something in Sticky's gut told him to be wary of them. It was not because he thought they meant him harm, he still had Magar and a handful of guards all watching them as they sat before him. Nonetheless, the Redguard was quite certain that something somewhere was amiss with these three. His gut often did not steer him wrong in choosing which food to get and usually steered him right when it came time to business deals.

"We have come to you for information." the male announced. Sticky decided he was probably the spokesperson.

"Ah very good. Sticky is a very good man to find information from. What kind of information are you seeking?" the Redguard replied, more cordially than he actually felt. Something told him he wanted them out of here as quickly as possible.

"We are looking for a woman. Her name is Claudia and we have reason to believe she has recently left this city. Do you know where she went? She's an Imperial and is said to be good with a bow. She also carries a sword of delicate make though she is also skilled with it." the Bosmer pressed.

"Hmmmm...let me think on this." Sticky murmured weighing on exactly what she should do.

One of the women dropped a leather pouch onto the table which bumped heavily against the wood. Sticky could see that it was laden down with coin.

"Ahh, well, while a down payment is nice it does not guarantee quick results. Please let Sticky consult some of his sources first just to double check his hunches. You would not want to be sent the wrong direction now? Sticky would not like that for you." Another leather bag thumped onto his table.

"Very well, if you want to expedite the information, Sticky remembers of a shepherd woman leaving the city bound to go through the Alik'r. This shepherd womans fits your description down to the name." Sticky replied calmly.

"Thank you." the Bosmer spoke and the three left in eerie unison.

Unsettled, Sticky opened the bags and found that they did indeed contain gold, all of it in good condition. His mind started to race for a bit as he considered everything he had seen and tried to sort out a few more hunches. He was not entirely sure on what to make of this meeting. He scratched his chin and wondered what exactly he had done and what exactly he should do in response to it. Sadly, gold has a way of numbing a good conscience.