It was a few hours spent relaxing in the abandoned inn before the groups collective hearing came back. In that time, a group of Windhelm guards had stopped by, alerted by the towns folk. Not wanting to deal with them, I informed them we had heard sounds of battle up the hill, and had taken shelter. They left after informing me that the inn keeper Iddra, would be returning as soon as the garrison reported the area safe. Until then, we had the place to ourselves.

I had stopped my rant some time ago, content to stoke the fire. We had helped ourselves to some food, making sure to leave a note and some gold as compensation.

Not much to do other than wait. That, and plan out my options. Where did we go from here? We could follow some of the major quest lines, sure. But those ended with Daedric artifacts.

Now, you might be thinking, 'Whats wrongs with Daedric artifacts? They're some of the best parts of Skyrim.' Well let me tell you then, you short sited fool. Daedric artifacts came with Daedric attention. Now sure, you may be all happy and shit to sell your soul to every deadra in the game for their favor. But I'm not. Because one, this isn't a game. If I pledge my soul to a dark god, they're getting my soul. And I like my soul. I've become rather attached to it.

The second reason I personally wouldn't go artifact hunting, was because I wasn't the dragonborn. No, seriously, that was a reason. The Dragonborn's soul couldn't be claimed, as it was the soul of Sheor in mortal flesh. Hense why Sheor's throne was empty in Sovngarde. How that factored into Aerana being a woman, and an elf, I didn't know. But lore was lore.

The Dragonborn could have as many patrons as she wanted. So it was all up to her. We still needed to get strong enough to deal with the three major threats of this world. Alduin, Miirak, and Harkon.

The one who would Devour, The one who would Claim, and the one who would leave the world Desolated.

I stared into the fire, thinking about it. If I was honest with myself, the one who scared me most wasn't Alduin. Or Harkon for that matter. It was Miirak. Or, specifically, Hermaous Mora.

He was known to horde knowledge of the unknown, and I was about as unknown as one could get. I shuttered at the idea of his tentacles. I was no hentai protagonist damnit!

It went on like that for a time. Just the fire and it's crackle.

Finally, Delphine spoke up. "I guess I owe you some answers don't I. Well, ask away " She said resigned.

I shot my hand up and started waving it around. My companions stared at me in confusion.

"Me! Me! Pick me!" I said excited.

"Um. Yes?" she asked hesitantly.

"How do you feel about Argonians? I mean on one hand, there is the famous Lusty Argonian Maid. And I know for a fact that Joric of Morthal spanks one out to that shit every once and a while. Unless your into that. Now that I think about it, you do give off a sexually oppressed lesbian vibe. Are you in the closet? You can come out of the closet. We won't judge. Ok, I might, but not for the lesbianism. But back to Argonians. I'm not a scaly, so I don't find that shit attractive. In fact, and excuse my bias, but the whole thing feels a little too much like beastiality. Is that racist? Probably. I guess my question is Argonians: Tap or nap?"

We all sat in silence. The fire casting odd shadows over our faces. I'm not really sure what expression was on Delphine's face. It went from shock, to anger, to mortification, to disgust, and settled on blank. Noticably, her eye twitched every few seconds.

Lydia's hand was just rubbing at her brows, and Aerana was giving a thoughtful look. As if contemplating the question.

"Allow me to amend my statement. Ask me anything about my past." Delphine breathed out.

I opened my mouth, intent to ask if she had ever slept with an Argonian, but she glared at me fiercely. "Not you. The Dragonborn." She bit out. I snapped my jaw shut. Damn, some mysteries would have to remain so.

Delphine then went on to explain who she was, as well as her plan to infiltrate the Thalmor embassy. I tuned out mostly. I wasn't planning on having Aerana visit the embassy. Too much effort. I would just tell her. Soon, we were left alone as Delphine had headed home. We contented ourselves to a restful stay at the inn.

Later that night, the inn keeper came back. She was grateful for us leaving her compensation for the food, and as thanks gave us a piece of pie each. It was setting up to be a nice evening. That should have been the first sign looking back.

It happened as Aerana was laughing in conversation with Lydia that I slipped away.

I felt the call of nature, and the outhouse was outside. If anything, this was one of the things I hated most about a medieval setting. The lack of plumbing. And heat. I had just gotten it out of my armor, and Fuck was it cold.

So there I was, dick out, reassuring myself it was just the cold making the little guy shy, when someone ripped the door to the outhouse open. I had just enough time to experience panic when a piece of cloth was thrown over my mouth. Instinctually, I inhaled, my body taking oxygen in as it prepared to fight or flight. That was a mistake. I fell limp into the arms of an armored chest.

I had just enough time to wonder if they would at least preserve my dignity before I knew nothing else.

Undisclosed Location.

I was woken to the startling feeling of ice cold water being thrown on my flesh. I screamed incoherently, jerking on reflex. But I was quick to notice my hands and feet were bound. I was tied to a chair of some kind.

"Where am I? Let me go!" I panicked as I struggled to break free. I looked around, and saw I was in a dungeon. Or I assumed it was a dungeon. The walls and ceiling were stone. The floor was brick, and the door was solid iron. There were also strange markings on the walls. Runes? Maybe. Before I could think anymore about it, I was slapped hard in the face.

Any cloudiness that was left over from the drugs my captures had used faded from my system. I wasn't alone in my cell. My pupils focused, and with me was what I assumed was…a vigilant of Stendarr? "Silent Daedra! We will be the ones asking the questions!"

I squinted at him. He was a redguard, bald, and very angry. He was dressed in the robe armor combo that was popular for his faction. The only difference being he had his hood down.

Why did they kidnap me? I thought. But then decided it was better to ask. "Why have you captured me? I'm not a Daedra! I was assisting the Dragonborn in her quest to save the world!" I tried stressing that I was with the Dragonborn. Aerana didn't have much of a reputation at the moment, but straining against my bonds, I was grasping at options.

I was met with another strike to the cheek. It stung, this time he had used his plated knuckles. I felt blood blister in my mouth.

"Quiet! Your trickery will do you no good here! You will answer only when questioned! Understand?"

I raised my head to look at him, and then spit the blood collecting under my tongue into his eye. I grinned at the look of disgust he made. But, in hind site, it wasn't my brightest idea.

He summoned another vigilant, who must have been waiting right outside the cell, and that vigilant held me down while the man I had dubbed 'Baldy' did his best to give me internal bleeding. It went on for a few minutes. It hurt so bad. I could feel the skin getting more sensitive to pain with every strike. That's the thing nobody talks about when they talk about torture. It gets worse as time goes on.

Now, I'm sure your asking 'Sheo! Why haven't you fried Them yet?' and the answer to that is, I tried. I tried as soon as I felt myself bound. But my magic just wouldn't manifest. It felt like when you tie off an arm to draw blood. A constriction of the natural flow. I hated it. I hated everything about it.

Finally, when I was on the verge of passing out, they stopped.

"Had enough?" Baldy said. And I hated him. I hated him like I had never hated someone before. He saw that in my eyes too, and he kept beating me. It went on for a while. He stopped with my abdomen and started on my face at one point. Then, when I was certain I was bleeding internally, and I had ruptured an organ, I sighed in relief as death was about to come. For most, that would mean the end of their will, but for me it was just another chance. Then I felt healing magic be used on me. It soothed like warm water. Flesh nit, organs put themselves back together, and the icor that had escaped internally disappeared.

But what was supposed to be a blessing was perverted by what happened next. It began anew. Twice more. Gods, how did he have the stamina for this?

"Done already?" he taunted. "Answer me monster!" But despite that, I couldn't muster the effort to bring that up to my eyes. "Looks like he needs a bit more."

My slightly swollen eyes widened. "No!" I said. I was so ashamed. I had experienced worse than this. This should have been nothing. But fear is such a powerful thing. And at the moment, I felt so powerless.

I hadn't known how much I had come to love Magic in the short time I had used it. It was like gaining super powers. It was super powers. To have that stripped away, it left me feeling vulnerable.

"Ready to talk?" Baldy asked, the promise of more pain on his lips. I nodded. And I felt tears gather. I hated him. For this shame. We all think that we could last under torture.

But torture will break anyone eventually. I would know. But it was so much worse when you were brought to the brink of death through beating, then taken away from the edge, just to start anew.

"How did you get on this plane Daedra!?" he demanded.

I coughed, my lungs hurt. "I don't know. I'm not a Daedra."

My voice was weak. It could barely be heard. His response was to hit me again. "Fuck!" I croaked. Maybe I shouldn't have spit in his face.

"Do not lie to us. You reek of Oblivion. Someone summoned you! Who's realm do you fall under. Tell us!"

I reeked of Oblivion? That was news to me. "Nobody summoned me. I just appeared in a cart on my way to be executed." I tried to deny again, but I was met with predicted results.

"We will find your master fiend. Once you give us their name, you will be allowed to return to Oblivion. Now I ask again, and for the last time. WHO IS YOUR SUMMONER!?"

I grit my teeth. I was telling the truth! Why wasn't he listening. I tried again and again. Over and over. But he would listen. It must have been hours. Eventually, baldy was sweating heavily, and I guess his partner had grown tired as well.

"We will continue this in the morning, fiend. Until then, enjoy the hospitality of Stendarr's mercy." And with that, I was left alone. They had healed me one final time. Presumably to prevent me from dying in the night. Gods, it was night. It was night when I had been kidnapped as well. So at least a full day had passed. Probably more with how far they must have traveled.

The chair was uncomfortable. Stupid thing to complain about, I know. But I had been forced to remain in the same bound position for hours. Blood covered my torso. They had taken my armor when I had been imprisoned. I was left in this cold cell with nothing but a pair of trousers.

I laughed to myself as the blood on my chest grew cold, along with the sweat that covered me. At least they had put my dick away. Cold comfort it was.

Time passed, and I felt myself start to nod from exhaustion. Then I heard a voice. "Hey buddy. You alright in there?" It sounded like it was from the cell beside me. I perked up at it.

"I'm alive. So it could be worse." I said scratchily. I coughed roughly. My lungs hurt.

"I'm glad. They really went all out on you. What'd you do? If ya don't mind me asking?"

I chuckled, amused. It felt nice to have a bit of human contact. "Nothing. I was taking a piss and got grabbed. You?" I asked.

I heard shuffling, along with what sounded like a chain. "They don't like my kind. Wasn't hurting nobody. Just a researcher, really. Found some information that was valuable, and with my condition, they didn't need any other excuse."

That told me a lot about him. I was curious though. "So are you a leech? Or a furry?" I joked.

"Ha! I've heard the first, but never the second. That's funny."

"Thanks, it's a term from my Homeland." I said back. The dungeon was empty. Only the crackle of the torches could be heard when we lapsed into silence.

Then my new friend spoke. "To answer your question, I'm one of those 'Leeches' you mentioned. Funny fact is, I never hurt nobody. Well, nobody that didn't deserve it. Between the fauna and the bandits, I'm spoiled for choice. Didn't matter to the vigilant's though. All this nonsense for a tad of information. Knew I shouldn't have trusted that Lokil guy. Had sketchy written all over it."

I had no idea who that was. "Why did you" I asked.

"For the gold of course! Why else? You have any idea how hard it is to find work outside Wet work for someone who only operates at night? Times are tough. Dragon's only make it worse. And my condition isn't all it's cracked up to be. I've been around a while. But I have to live secluded. Or, I had to anyway."

Hmmm. That made sense. Why wouldn't there be vampires who didn't want to hurt people. Sybille was the mage for solitude. And she was a mostly peaceful member of society.

"I must rest now. Your 'interrogation' was long, but mine will be doubtlessly more painful. I've already broken, but I imagine they will continue until my death just to hear me suffer."

That was a sad and sobering thought. Maybe I could get us both out of here. It would depend. I would wait and see. I could always fall back on return by death.

I rested for a bit, but I wasn't tired or comfortable enough to sleep anymore. I wanted to escape. I looked at the enchanting script. Probably to bind Daedra. I could only guess, but it gave off a sort of mental impression. Was that what was restricting my magic? Why didn't it restrict the other Vigilant's magic? If he could use it, why was it stopping me? Then a thought came to me. A dumb one that should have been dismissed, but lingered in the silence. I was a human…wasn't I? No. I dismissed the thought. That made no sense. I was confident I would know if I came from Oblivion. They probably just had a talisman of some kind to become immune. That made sense. Occam's Razor and all that.

Maybe if I could get out of the circle I would have access to magic. My chair wasn't bolted to the ground or anything. That was why they needed the other vigilant to hold me down. Well, that and to prolong the torture with said magic. They better pray they never found themselves at my 'Mercy'.

I started rocking to see how easy it would be to trying to hop. It kind of worked, to my surprise. Inch by inch I was hopping out of the center of the circle. As I moved outward towards the wall, I felt my magic being loosened. This confirmed my hypothesis. The binding was based in the center of the circle.

Finally I got to the edge of the wall. I felt it. Like the trickle of a leaky faucet, droplets of magic were accessible. I could understand how a Daedra would have trouble here, and why my captors felt so comfortable leaving me in here even with this obvious weakness. Because it was around .01% Magicka regeneration. Barely enough to stabilize a regular Daedra on Nirn. Not to a healthy state though. But when your reserves are as large as mine, .01% was a lot.

The runic array must have been math based, which made sense. It was like a programing language. It dealt in absolutes. But if my Magicka value was something like 2000, then a .01% regeneration rate gave me around 20 Magicka.

What I'm trying to say, is I had just enough power to make a small flame on the tip of my finger. It sputtered out, but I had enough to start the fibers of rope binding my hands.

Now, I had to wait. It was as the flames grew that I realized my mistake. "Shit! Shit! Fuck! Why am I dumb!"

I squirmed as the heat made my binding extra uncomfortable, boarding on painful.

Yeah the bindings we're burning me. Fire is hot. Who knew. I gave them an experimental tug, and they came apart easily.

I vigorously rubbed the first degree burns on my wrists. They hurt, but not as much as the last few hours. Not even close. Now however, I had another problem. I was free, yes. But I was still locked in a cell.

A crash was heard up above, followed by screams. I froze. Something was happening. Sounds of battle.

More screams, of agony this time. Time to get out of here. I put my hands on the cell bars, and felt my magic come forth like a pipe past my wrists. It was a bit painful. But everything seemed to hurt right now, so I barely felt it.

Then the dungeon entrance door was ripped off it's hinges so fast it blew out the hall torches. It landed with a massive crash. I leapt back, afraid I had set off some kind of magical alarm.

"Where is he, cur!?" a harsh sounding voice spoke.

"Arg! You won't get away with this! We will-" a violent slap was heard, and the voice wailed in pain. He sounded familiar. Tough luck baldy.

"Search the cells. He is in here. The fool would not have guarded this place so zealously if not so." A woosh was heard, and I saw a pair of eyes look upon me from my cell. They glowed Amber in the dark. A vampire. The they went to the next cell.

"Here, my lady" a soft spoken woman said. Another woosh passed my cell.

"Ah. There you are. My sire will be pleased to see you safe. More so when you reveal the fruits of your labor." The woman spoke cooingly.

"I have the location. But I need a map. It's name has undoubtedly changed in the centuries prior, but the stars and their positions have remained the same." My cell mate said.

I edged closer to the cell door. I could see them. Two women, wearing vampire armor. Ah. I knew what had happened. Aerana had become level 10. The events of Dawngaurd had started.

I listened as the cell was opened. "As long as you have its location." She said. I saw the guy, he didn't look too good.

"Say, mind helping a brother out?" I said as he passed. He was about to open his mouth to reply, but I had to jump away as a clawed hand swiped at me.

"Silence, insolent worm!" The servant roared. She was very angry it seemed. A pms joke would fit well here. I could probably relate it to eternal life somehow. But alas, I am above that. Gaining some confidence, or more accurately, a nice cloud of apathy, I tried to pursued them to open my doors.

"Pretty please?" I asked giving my best smile. Gotta give em your best right? Then I was punched in the face. Hard.

My vision was filled with dancing spots and I could barely think straight. I stubbled back, before falling on my ass. "Worth a try." I mumbled as I took a nap on the nice soft floor.

I awake a few hours later. The ground was cold, and my head and back were killing me.

"Fuuuuuuck" I groaned. Turning to my side, I saw light was spilling into my abandoned cell, as well as a steady amount of snow accumulating on the floor.

Stretching to get the kinks out, I reassessed my situation. I could smell ash in the draft. That was the first thing I noticed. After that, I felt I had full access to my magic.

That did bring a smile to my face. I saw that a beam had broken in the floor above and fell down into the cell. It had cracked the Runic configuration, rendering it useless.

What incredible luck that it did so instead of crushing my head like a grape. Otherwise I might have to suffer all that torture over again!

Climbing up the beam, I squeezed my way through the hole in the floor. When I exited out the top, my theory was confirmed. Looking at the charred remains of the hall of the vigilants, I found it very hard to muster up any pity at their desiccated corpses.

They kinda deserved this, if you ask me. But that still left me in the wilderness of the Pale in nothing but a set of bloody trousers. Taking a second to examine the bodies, I decided that there wasn't anything salvageable from any of the bodies. Notably, I found no talismans. Just pendants of stendarr. They did have a few gold coins between them however.

Well that sucked. I needed to plan out my next move, and quickly. I quickly decided that I needed to get to Dawnstar. It was the closet settlement. I didn't have much money on me, but with a little luck, I would be able to get a paper and quill off someone to send a letter.

My course set, I started walking north.

A few hours later

I opened the door to the Windpeek inn, and was immediately the center of attention. I was half frozen, shirtless, and covered in soot and blood.

Suffice to say the Inn keeper, Thoring, was kind enough to offer me an old mining shirt and a pair of dirty boots. I thanked him profusely, trying to offer some coin. But he insisted they were taking up space and would be better off with me.

I bought some food to settle down. I spent a few recovering from my experience by the fire. I began to feel better after that. I hadn't gotten around to writing the letter yet, but I had the supplies. I was just about to buy a room for the night, when someone approached me.

"You look like you've had a rough time. How about you and me share a drink. I'll pay!" a smooth voice said jovially. I turned to see a red haired Nord wearing a black set of robes. I blinked for a few seconds, and then smiled. I knew who this was.

"Ah, Sam. A drink is exactly what I need. But I gotta ask, am I getting a rose on my pillow when the night of fun is done? Or are you just going to leave me alone when the party is over?" I used innuendo to ask my question. I had recovered a bit, and this could be a one in a lifetime opportunity. Sanguine was a Daedra I didn't mind colluding with. He was the Daedric version of an eternal frat boy. But the good kind, not the douche kind.

Sam smiled at me, and if I wasn't certain of my sexuality I might have sworn I saw a sexy twinkle in his eye. "Now, now. A rose is supposed to be given to someone special. But have a few drinks with me, and I'm sure you'll come out better for it. It's certain to be a Night to Remember." He winked at me, and my god, I wasn't ready for the existential crisis over my sexuality he was causing. Still, he said I would be better for it. No rose, but something. Something from a Daedric prince.

"Give me just a second." And I scurried off to write a note. After asking the barkeep to mail it for me, and handing him the last of my coin. Tip included. I sat down to have a drink with old Sam.

"On the count of three!" he said jovially.

"One!" I said lifting the shot.

"Two!" he said with a toast.

"Three!" we both said and downed our shots. I coughed. It was strong. Did I mention I couldn't hold my liquor? I don't remember much after that. Suffice to say, Nobody must ever know. And also I'm married? Maybe? Honestly, there were some communication issues, but that's the impression I got.

What I'm trying to say, is that alcoholism is not a solution to your problems. Usually. And you often end up with an even larger headache once it's over.