Another long wait is over, but at least I have it for Christmas. Sorry, I really have a lot on my plate in this year.

theuone - Of course it's still going on. It's just that I'm on the third year of my studies, meaning I have to write a... what is it called in English, thesis? I'm not sure.

Shadowpawzzz - Happy to brighten your day.

Hitler's Mustache - Certainly, kind sir. Here's your order.

Guest - Good to know I'm doing this right, at first I wasn't sure I could pull off two protagonists without making one of them uninteresting.

Jaxius Tharn - You are right only about one of those things.

Guest - Update? Sure I'll update. But soon? Er... Well, the next chapter is kind off almost ready, but I honestly have no idea when I'll be able to publish it.

InsidiousAgent - Oh, stop it, you're making me blush...

Agastopia - YUS!

NoSkillzOnlyHax - Well, I just couldn't avoid that joke forever.

Accursius - It's not just yet time for Azirra to meet Ashlanders, but that day is coming. And yes, the entire Tribunal is still around and they definitely won't sit idly during this entire mess.

Welp, go ahead and have fun. Again, chapter without beta-reader - I'm still in the middle of looking for one, as the previous one has even less time this year than me.UPDATE: Not anymore! New proofreader, JDLENL, just went through the chapter, so it got a few fixes.

Ted grunted as he landed without much grace. He glared at his wing as Manirai slowly left his back—she could cast spells as well as any other two-hundred-year-old mage, but even the best traditional Ashlander rituals can only do so much when it comes to preserving physical strength and endurance, so, while the dragon was grumpy about his injury, she did her best not to join him in his misery.

The muscles on the base of his wing were no longer uncovered, yes, but that didn't mean he had fully recovered. Originally Ted would be able to circle the entirety of Vvardenfell in a few hours without breaking a sweat, but their trip from the Ghostgate to the Urshilaku camp, extended slightly by the necessity to avoid Red Mountain and its trigger-happy host, took almost an entire day. True, he was still faster than any other mount or traveling method save for teleportation, but his inability to painlessly flap his wings with full strength was starting to piss him off. They also had to make two stops along the way so he wouldn't damage the wing further. The first stop happened to be just north-west of Ald'ruhn, while the second was on some nameless small mountain. The panicked shouts and screams of both the townsfolk and the legionaries at the nearby fort as he flew right over them only slightly raised his spirits.

"I still don't understand why you had to cause so much chaos in the city," grumbled Manirai as they both started walking/crawling north, where, according to both Ted's gaming memories and Wise Woman's friends from the Ghostgate camp, they would find the camp of the Urshilaku tribe.

"Because any dragon worth his qah would do at least that," Ted stated casually. "Dovahhe are the strongest beings in the lein and the only reason we don't rule it is due to our lack of teamwork. I wanted to remind them of that." He remained silent for a few seconds. "Also, I really wanted to see how Dunmer look when they are so scared they might crap themselves...but your people really do seem to have only one expression. Rinik tiiraaz..."

"Fool. Now both settled elves and outlanders will know of you and maybe even expect the worst. Also, please, stop calling us Dunmer. The Houses may think this curse that twisted us was a blessing of Tribunal, but we Ashlanders know better and we never accepted this name. We're may not be Chimer anymore, but we are still Velothi."

"Getting exposed was kind of unavoidable. We made quite a ruckus at the Ghostgate and it's not only your reyliik that goes there. This way, I could at least present myself the way I wanted to, not in whatever way Vivec would cook up. They know I'm strong and not afraid to use said mulaag, but I won't attack without a reason. That will do for now."

By the time he had finished speaking, the duo had finished climbing up the long slope. With the terrain no longer limiting their sight, they were able to spot a rather big camp a few hundred meters away...as well as a row of Ashlanders with their bows aimed at them.

"Come no closer!" shouted one of the archers, obviously the leader. Sadly, Ted was unable to even tell them apart—except for the Wise Women and Khans everyone always looked the same in tribe to an outsider. "State your names and quest."

"I am Manirai, Wise Woman of Erabenimsun. I came to speak with the Wise Woman of your tribe."

"Aww, you didn't ask about the weight of an unloaded swallow, shame on you." His words, or maybe rather the ability of speech, shocked the tribals so much that one of them even accidently released his arrow, which bounced off of one of Ted's horns, not even making him flinch...much. "Watch it! You might hurt someone with that flying toothpick. Anyway, I am Rotheimaak, Dovah Do Sahqo Strunmah, which in your language means..."

"...Dragon of Red Mountain."

"Rinik...wait, you speak Dovahzul?" A Dunmer that could speak his language? Now that was a shocker.

"We know of you, Rotheimaak...and what your return means to our land." The leader lowered his weapon and the others followed his example. The corners of the Dunmer's mouth lifted, which was as close to smiling as possible for him. "I can hardly believe it. Legendary dragon...but you look just like the statue, so it must be you."

If Ted didn't knew any better, he would think the guy just met a deity of his religion, or maybe even better—a real comic superhero.

"What statue? I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about."

A look of conflict appeared on the Ashlander's face.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I should be the one to explain everything to you. That would be the honor of our Khan and Wise Woman. By now they are both resting, though. I'm afraid you will have to wait until they can speak with you."

"Dude, you are cruel. You drop an information nuke on me and then tell me to wait until I finally get an explanation? What are you, a fanfic writer?" The dragon glanced to the left.

"...What?"

"Oh, don't mind me. I just act like that from time to time to make any potential observers from behind the fourth wall think I can actually see them."

"…"

"Here we are."

Azirra nodded to an old gondolier and stepped off the boat into the shallow water, barely reaching past her knees. She glanced at the shore of the island. It was nothing special - a few sharp rocks as a reminder of the volcanic activity, some ordinary plants and some less ordinary, but perfectly at home in the province of Morrowind, to her bemusement - even if the massive mushrooms didn't give her as serious an allergic reaction as normal ones.

However, there was one problem.

"I do not see Gih-Deesei anywhere."

"Not my problem," grumbled the old Dunmer. "As promised, I'll be here at dawn. If you aren't here at that time, you will have to return to the city on your own."

The Khajiit nodded as the boat set sail for Vivec. The mage once again looked over the island, but again no Argonian assassin was spotted. She wasn't amused.

"The old goat said she told him she'd already be here. Where's she?"

"Right behind you."

The secret agent yelped and jumped, losing her balance and falling face-first into the mud. As soon as she lifted herself above the surface, spitting sand and water everywhere and cursing in a manner that would make a drunk Nord sailor blush, the first sound that greeted her was the loud laughter of her temporary companion.

"You idiot! How did you even...?!"

"I'm an Argonian, remember? I was just waiting underwater and observing."

Azirra finally removed what mud was covering her eyes and glared at her partner in crime, only to stiffen and look away.

"You are naked. Why are you naked?"

"I put all my belonging into a waterproof bag—no need to get them wet. Besides, it's not like I'm really naked. It doesn't work like that for Argonians."

"Just...just put something on."

The Khajiit was completely sure the Morag Tong assassin was grinning.

"You know, I was actually planning to do the entire attack like that. Makes every male combatant much less focused."

"NO."

Her only response was a few more chuckles. After a few awkward seconds the Argonian nudged her in the side, now once more in full gear.

"Let's get going. And remember, try to be stealthy. Leave the sentinel to me, we can't afford to alert our enemies. The fewer we have to face at once, the better."

She nodded and followed her as Gih-Deesei lied down and started crawling across the shore, approaching the edge of the natural stone barrier that shielded them from the center of the island. The assassin slowly peeked out and grabbed a bamboo cane from her belt with one hand, while putting a green dart inside with the other. She lifted the weapon to her mouth and blew. Right after that she stood up and waved at Azirra to do the same.

Nestled between rocks at the center of the island was a wooden door leading into the hideout and in front of it lied a twitching Dunmer. Gih-Deesei dashed at him and with one slash of her dagger finished him off. The mage approached right as she was wiping the blood from her blade on the victim's vest.

"Some sort of paralysis enchantment?"

"A poison, actually. No need to enchant something that might be damaged with one use. Always carry something you can paralyze your enemy with, this way you can beat even a much stronger opponent."

I think I know what kind of spell I should learn next.

"So, what's the plan?" asked Azirra. "Unless you just want to rush inside and start hitting people."

"What do you think I am, a Dark Brotherhood recruit? No, we'll sneak in. I'll silently take down as many hostiles as possible. If we are discovered or if there are at least two thugs in the same place, we'll both attack. Do you know any poison spells?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Both distance and touch variants."

"Great, stick mostly to those. They won't affect me that much in case of friendly fire."

The inside of the cavern was underwhelming at best. After following the twisting tunnel they encountered a bridge over a short chasm. So far there were no enemies in sight. Gih-Deesei stepped on the first plank.

And then the entire plan went to Oblivion.

"Intruder on the bridge!" came a cry from the chasm—at the bottom stood a female Dunmer archer. She attempted to hit the vulnerable Argonian, but the assassin crossed the bridge in one second, just to face a Nord barbarian that was alerted by the shout.

Azirra glanced at her friend, locked in combat just outside of archer's range and at the gap between them. She wouldn't dare to close it with a ranger waiting just below to pepper someone with arrows.

Ugh, what was it that Amiulusus said I need to do when fighting archers? Oh, right. Get in their face.

She pulled out her sword and jumped into the chasm. Her landing wasn't graceful by any means, but her unexpected appearance surprised the Dunmer enough to allow the Khajiit to give her a serious cut on the wrist. The woman dropped the bow with a scream and fell over, clutching her wound.

An ice projectile that struck the wall above her head alerted her to the presence of more hostiles. She ducked behind a rock and assessed the situation.

There were two more Dunmer in a small cavern to the right, which judging by the presence of crates and barrels was one of the slavers' storerooms. One enemy was wearing long robes and trying to hide himself behind one of the obstacles to attack with spells from a safe position, while the other fighter, who was the only one with any sort of protection (in form of a chitin cuirass), charged at her with an enchanted dagger in hand.

In situations like those Azirra usually ended up doing something that no other sane person would do. Now it wasn't any different—she chucked her sword at the incoming combatant and, when he barely avoided the unexpected projectile, followed it up with a Greater Shockball, for a moment delaying him.

And that's when the other Dunmer managed to hit her in the chest with a spell.

Azirra gasped and collapsed. It wasn't exactly very painful, no, it was barely enough to make her fall. Most weaker frost spells only slow down the enemy and weaken their defenses, leaving them open to more damaging attacks, but it was exactly what the spellcaster was aiming for. The attack covered her cuirass in a thin layer of frost, which thankfully saved her from the brunt of the attack, leaving the mage only with a momentary problem with movement and breathing. In those short three seconds each intake of air felt like gulping down ice cubes, while her moves were sluggish at best.

A dagger stabbing right at her head proved to be excellent motivation to try harder—she rolled aside and grabbed the Dunmer by the wrist. He growled in pain and anger as her claws sunk into his hand, drawing blood.

A kick struck her stomach, making her squirm, but not let go of the weapon-holding hand. As far as she was concerned, the slaver would have better luck freeing himself if he cut off his own arm—she certainly wasn't going to just give him back full reign of the only object he had that could trump her claws in a direct fight.

The other mage, being the idiot he was, launched another spell, this time one of the fire type, that shot right between them, making them both recoil back. The Dunmer hissed as ther claws made scarlet lines in his skin.

"Stupid fetcher! Don't do that, I'm too close!"

Suddenly, Azirra realized something. As sturdy as the fighter was (he casually shrugged off her spell and immediately jumped back to attack, for Divines' sake!), he couldn't at the moment get away from her.

Mages are known for being a pain in the ass before you close the distance. And when you do...make sure you don't close it all the way. Enough wizards had perished because of this for others to came up with countermeasures.

She channeled her magicka and sent a Poisonous Touch spell right through the hand into the enemy, immediately following it with another...and another...and so on, until she exhausted her magicka pool and the enemy faltered, with disturbing, greenish liquid dripping from his mouth. Before he collapsed, however, a scaly arm found its way around his neck. A second later the Dunmer fell, with a stab wound on his back and Gih-Deesei standing over him with a smug smirk.

"Need a hand?"

"...I was doing just fine, he was already done for," mumbled Azirra, finally letting go of the wrist. A spell hitting the rock that up until now was shielding her from most magical attacks reminded both of them of one more enemy. Without thinking much she wrestled the dagger from the hand of the corpse and chucked it...only to see it fall short and slightly sideways from the mage, who was already laying in a pool of his own blood with the even-more-smug Argonian standing over him.

"Some advice for future reference: one, only some knives are for throwing, not daggers—they weren't designed for that. Two, you are doing it wrong—don't swing your arm as if you're holding a mace. Three, you suck, so don't suck."

"Wha...?! But, you were just right here before!"

"And now I'm here. That's what three rounds around Vivec each morning can do to you after three years."

"Around...but, it's not just land, but also sea!"

"Well, duh. I can breathe underwater, remember?"

"But there are slaughterfishes everywhere."

"Meaning I get to do some combat training, pest control, and obtain my breakfast at the same time."

At this point Azirra, too shocked to focus on what was truly important, pointed out one fatal flaw in the Argonian's training regime.

"Where do you think the water from Vivec's sewers ends up?"

Gih-Deesei first blinked in confusion and then her eyes bulged out as she connected the dots.

"By the Hist...ew, ew, ew!" The Argonian gagged. She glanced in terror at her still-wet armor and then at Azirra in resentment. "You civilized people are disgusting. Back in Black Marsh no one ever just shat into the water."

"We civilized people don't feel the need to swim in every body of water possible," said the secret agent, finally calming down. "How many enemies have you encountered? Were there any other corridors?"

"Nah, it was just a tunnel with two small chambers including this one. I'm pretty sure we took down all of them..." She smirked. "Well...I took down all of them."

"Har har. Funny, but wrong. The archer would have shot you in the ass if I hadn't struck him down first and gotten myself into this mess over here."

"Fine, if it makes you feel better...now help me search their pockets; one of them must have the key to the slave pen."

The subject of slavery in Morrowind is more complicated than it may seem. Is it legal? Of course it is, anyone can tell you that much. Anyone, even outlanders, can obtain a slave. What not everyone can tell you, however, is that the problem of transporting said slaves and the limits of ownership isn't solved the same way in all parts of the province.

Of all the Great Houses that own territory on Vvardenfell, the Telvanni are the most liberal when it comes to the usage of slaves. It is not surprising—this Great House is a bit of an anomaly, since its members actually never aimed to be a clan unified by a cause, but a large group of individuals that above anything else wants to protect their right to do anything they want to do, from both members of other Houses and each other. Telvanni live by the rule that their freedom officially ends only where the freedom of another Telvanni begins—everyone else is of no importance. Because of this, a high-ranking member of the House is almost independent, especially if he/she owns their own mushroom tower—those that actually can afford them are free to set rules in the area controlled by them and nothing except for the Common Principles, a set of simple rules that every member has to follow, has greater strength. As such, slaves are very common on the eastern coast of Vvardenfell, since most Telvanni lords are very traditional and thus not afraid to condemn thousands of 'lesser creatures' to work in their mines and plantations just so they can stay independent of the other Houses without working themselves. Of course, the liberty celebrated by this House also means that some areas have a different approach. Lord Gothren, the current Archmagister, had a massive slave market right beneath his tower of Tel Aruhn, while the ownership and transport of slaves in Vos and Tel Vos is firmly controlled by Lord Aryon, who in his reforms goes as far as to punish those that excessively torment them.

House Redoran doesn't use slaves as commonly as the other Great Houses. While they own a rather big chunk of northwestern Vvardenfell, they never focus that much on land ownership. To a Redoran, the greatest honor lies in combat prowess and battle achievements. As such, most of them focus entirely on becoming a skilled combatant, a knight in one of the orders, or at least a guard. When someone attacks some insignificant Ashlander group, wipes out a rogue member of any House, or conquers anything by brute force, you can safely assume it was performed by this faction of warriors (although as of late there were more and more instances of Ordinators doing so). Those few that for any reason cannot pursue this path usually have to take care of the field work—not that it pays off that much, the winds sadly carry the cursed ashes of Red Mountain mostly into their territory. In order to not take away the source of income of less-capable members, the usage of slaves has several restrictions, but is still well protected by the councilors, if only for the sake of tradition.

Of all three Great Houses operating in Vvardenfell, the Hlaalu reap the most benefits from slavery. Their plantations are legendary, surpassed in scale only by those owned by House Dres on the mainland. It is quite ironic when we consider this faction has the biggest number of outlanders, who in theory should be against slavery, but the reason behind it is both simple and sad —race becomes obsolete not because of some higher morals, but because all Hlaalu see money as the greatest value. If in order to get more of it they need to invite outlander scum into their House, they will do it. If they also need to enslave countless people, often captured by illegal means, they won't hesitate either. As such, there are no restrictions on the number of slaves one can own or any laws that protect them from abuse, but, in order to maintain some sort of standard, a very costly permit is required to work as a slave trader.

Of course, where there are restrictions, there are those who want to get rich by breaking them. While Vivec itself is owned by the Temple, most of the surrounding lands belong to House Hlaalu, not counting some of the towns and forts directly controlled by the Imperial administration. Because of the trading restriction there is an entire network of smugglers focused on transporting slaves for less fastidious buyers in the area. Vivec, as the biggest city on Vvardenfell, is a very tempting target for both the selling and acquiring of slaves (who cares if some Argonian or Khajiit disappears on a stroll in the middle of the night? Certainly not the Ordinators, that's for sure). Sadly, its proximity to Hlaalu territory and the Imperial seat of power in Ebonheart makes it a very hazardous occupation - legionnaires and Hlaalu guards gladly shoot down any unsanctioned slaver den not protected by law or bribes, along with those responsible for them.

Tonight, the incredibly efficient and fearsome fighters of the Twin Lamps, numbering one shy Khajiit mage-in-training and one not-shy-enough Argonian assassin, added their own contribution to make this job even more dangerous. The results of their hard work were six dead slavers and four free Argonians: J'Ram-Dar, Cheesh-Meeus, Heir-Zish and Tasha. After giving them directions to the Argonian Mission in Ebonheart, to which they could easily and quickly get by swimming, the slaves didn't even waste time to take anything and immediately left the cave, willing to put this part of their life behind them. Both abolitionists remained for a bit longer to find and take anything of value, which wasn't much—except for the personal belongings of the slavers, locations serving this purpose tended to be free of greater amounts of loot. What they found was divided between them, with an occasional discussion when it came to more valuable objects. By four in the morning both adventurers had finished ransacking the hideout and hiding the bodies (just in case other slavers investigated the place—it wouldn't do to alert others that someone was targeting them) and had sat down on one of the boulders on the edge of the island. Gih-Deesei originally planned to swim back to the city once she was done, however she decided to stay with Azirra for the gondolier that would take them back at dawn. The Khajiit's remarks on the quality of the water from earlier obviously refused to depart from the assassin's memory.

"So, where will you be staying tonight, or rather, in the morning?" asked Gih-Deesei. "I know all Twin Lamps members that live in Vivec, so you can't be from around here."

"I guess I will stay at the inn in Ebonheart, like the last time I was in Vivec. At this hour the guild halls are closed and it will be several hours before they open. I would rather get some rest in before returning to Balmora."

"So, you operate in the seat of power of both House Hlaalu and the Cammona Tong? Damn. You sure have guts to work right under their noses."

Azirra shrugged.

"Not really. That would be my second task for the Twin Lamps. I'm not really actively working for them, I'm just someone that may help from time to time if I can do so. Im-Kilaya gave me the password after I brought him a Khajiit used for drug smuggling."

"Drug smuggling? You mean...?"

"Forced to swallow packs of moon sugar and then meant to be cut open by the buyer, yes."

Whatever Gih-Deesei blurted out in the language of Argonians, it obviously wasn't nice.

"Those bastards are the worst right after Telvanni wizards. Once a slave becomes their property, they have a few days left to live at most." The assassin took a pebble and tossed it, making it sink as soon as it touched the water. "I will never understand how Huleeya can make the stone bounce a few times, it doesn't make sense...anyway, it's a bit of a shame you only do that much. The Twin Lamps are in dire need of new agents... though I can hardly blame you for not being more active. You fight like my granny."

"Hey! I will have you know I have taken down quite a lot of enemies since I arrived to Morrowind!"

"Maybe, but how often have you relied on luck rather than skill? I saw how you fight. Sure, your aim isn't bad and it's nothing out of the ordinary that as a mage you are rather squishy when someone gets close to you, but all it would take are two melee fighters at close distance or even just one fairly good one, and you're finished. You need some serious training if you want to survive out there."

Azirra sighed.

"You think I don't know? All I can do is cast a few spells and maybe stab someone with a spear. I still can't believe I survived that one raid on a big smuggler den a few days ago."

"Look, if all of that is too hard for you, then why won't you find a partner for your adventures? Sure, you would have to share the loot, but that's better than dying in some forgotten hole."

The mage only smiled weakly. For some reason she found it easy to speak to Gih-Deesei about this subject, despite the secrecy involved. For too long she was burdened by her knowledge, with no one to talk to. Caius was the one giving the orders, so he was out. Ajira was a trusted friend, but she didn't want her to worry. And Rotheimaak was...well, Rotheimaak. Let's leave it at that.

"Most of the time it's not an option. I have a...duty, one that I must do alone, since I can't really trust any others with it. So far there's only one...person...that knows, and while he says he's on my side, the only support I get are some mysterious, vague hints. So no, I don't think that's an option. Looks like I just have to start tossing money at professionals so that they will teach me."

It's a good thing that money is the one thing that I don't lack these days.

"Sorry to hear that. I wish I could point you towards some good trainers, but those I know are members of the Morag Tong, so they won't train outsiders."

"Alright, let's stop pitying me, I'm sure there are better subjects one can speak about with an assassin after four in the morning. You said something about the condition of the Twin Lamps?"

"Yes, the Twin Lamps have a rather serious problem. You see, our presence in Ebonheart and Vivec is secured thanks to the Argonian Mission, Jobasha, Ilmeni Dren and me, but that's pretty much it—we don't have a solid foothold in other locations. I mean, sure, we have someone far up north in Ald Velothi as well as an agent near Suran, but that's it. No one in Ald'ruhn or Balmora and not a single trusted person on the entire east coast, where slavery is at its strongest. It's so hard to find someone that can be trusted with the sort of work we do. We can't just look for someone that speaks about how bad slavery is, we need people that can actually do something, but are subtle enough to stay in the shadows... thus making it hard for us to find them. And not everyone who wants to help is in position to do so."

"True. Even if I wasn't busy with my other tasks, I don't own a place of my own, so I can hardly aid any escaped slaves." Azirra glanced towards the sky. It was slightly lighter, but it was far from dawn, so they still had a lot of time to burn. "Say, what is the most dangerous thing you've ever done? Just curious."

"The most dangerous...? Oh, sorry, can't tell you that, it concerns the Morag Tong. I can, however, tell you about the second most dangerous thing, since it's about my other job and I'm sure Im-Kilaya wouldn't mind. It involves Lord Dren of House Hlaalu, a Khajiit slave, a yo-yo and a pineapple..."

The talk continued until dawn, when the grumpy gondolier finally arrived to take them back to Vivec. Now, after over twenty hours of hard work, Azirra's plans could be summarised in one sentence: find an inn and sleep for just as long.

Manirai and Ted's meeting with Sul-Matuul and Nibani Maesa took place on the shore, which was distant enough from the camp for others to not overhear them. While the Ash Khan didn't think there was any need for secrecy, he complied with Ted's request.

Speaking of Sul-Matuul...if Ted had to guess, he would say he is the 'old sensei' type of warrior, one of those you only see in movies. He had everything to match that description except for a long beard: wrinkles, a rough manner of speaking, wisdom and hidden strength way above what his age would suggest. On his body were proudly-shining enchanted artifacts of the Urshilaku tribe, passed on from one Khan to another for thousands of years. His pride as a warrior made him appear very unfriendly to those who didn't know him. Ted wasn't fooled though—he played Morrowind enough times to fully appreciate each important character and now it paid off in his ability to figure out what makes them tick. For Sul-Matuul it was respect—as long as he shows him courtesy and takes a humble approach, the Khan should aid him.

Nibani Maesa was a bit tougher to crack, but not really that hard. She was perhaps a decade or two younger than Manirai, but her hair was still gray. Unlike the chief, she had no magical items and Ted vaguely remembered that her list of spells focused mostly on Restoration, making her rather weak in a fight, even though she had a high level. She didn't have to fight, though—if the leader of the Nerevarine cult was ever in danger, the warriors of Urshilaku would splatter the cause all over the desert. In order to gain her aid for future challanges, he simply needed to convince her Azirra was indeed Nerevar reborn. In the game, this Wise Woman appeared to be free of prejudice against outlanders, willingly guiding the Nerevarine no matter the race.

Even if he didn't get involved, chances are Azirra would still complete her mission. That much he knew. He acted because others wouldn't be so fortunate—people always died around heroes, either because of them or because the hero couldn't save them. Sooner or later, after his umpteenth playthrough of Morrowind, Oblivion, or Skyrim, he always gave himself an additional challenge—save every possible NPC. Needless to say, such gameplay was much, much more difficult. Here, it wasn't just about giving himself a secondary objective. The death of an NPC wouldn't just be limited to breaking some quest, possibly losing another trader you can sell your junk off to or a short, unoriginal sentence looking roughly like 'My friend/wife/father/daughter/hamster died. Things won't be the same without him/her'. No. Here, if someone were to die, some child might no longer be able to sit on his grandfather's knee and listen to stories from his adventuring days. A man might suddenly find himself visiting the cemetery instead of his wife. It was rough, it was real. Rotheimaak understood all of that as soon as he managed to get rid of that poor bandit that found his way into his stomach during the events at Arkngthand.

It didn't turn him into a grim dragon unable to appreciate the world he found himself in, but it made him (mostly) serious in moments like this one. Now it wasn't a game, not anymore. Now, when lives were at stake, it was a duty.

The Erabenimsun Wise Woman was the first one to speak. She told her hosts about the recent events at her tribe's camp—of the sudden arrival of Rotheimaak, his forced removal of their war-loving chief and his allies, and finally of the promise he gave to them.

As soon as she was finished, he decided to earn a few points with the Urshilaku leaders.

"Khan Sul-Matuul, Wise Woman Nibani Maesa. First, before I get to the most important part, I wish to thank you for your willingness to not only meet us, but to also do so the way I wished. I realize that you might question it, but I believe it is for the best if the two of you learn what I have discovered about the Nerevarine first, so that you can find the best way to inform your fellow tribesmen."

"I see. Meaning that it's something they wouldn't take well..." the Wise Woman of Urshilaku correctly guessed. "But whatever you have to say about this person is only second to the confirmation that they are the Nerevarine. How are you so certain?"

"There are several reasons. First of all, much like Ashl...the Velothi, I know that prophetic dreams aren't just a myth." Whoa, I almost stepped into a pit full of shit. The locals are really sensitive when you compare the color of their skin to ash...no surprise there. "Dragons are always capable of viewing Tiid, time, from a...different perspective than mortals, and we can foresee many events. I pride myself in being one of those that can see even further than most, qolaas. I know of the prophecy of the Nerevarine...and I don't just mean THE STRANGER, but also those prophecies that were either hidden or forgotten. The Seven Visions, the Seven Curses, even The Lost Prophecy..." The only reason Ted noticed the subtle change of expressions among his listeners was because he was expecting it. "The one I have found doesn't fit all requirements that the prophecies list...yet. They are a challenge, a series of untte, trials, that only Nerevar reborn can survive. Time will show that I am right. For now, not even she herself knows. But not for long."

"You said that your candidate doesn't fit all criteria yet. If that is the case, how are you so sure she is the one?" asked Sul-Matuul.

"I understand your doubts, but know that I have none, not anymore. The first time I met her I thought I was wrong, that this cannot be the one this land was waiting for." Ted decided to leave it at that. He wanted the others to give Azirra some slack, to not doubt her even more because of her less-than-inspiring performance after the 'Flying Bosmer Episode'. "I am not certain how much you know of my kind, so I feel it necessary to inform you that I am, just like all other dovahhe, a son to Akatosh, Dragon of Time. I do not mean some mystic talk about being a distant descendant of a god or even a symbolic one, no, it's quite literal. Dragons are half-immortal pieces of his being that he left behind in the creation of fin lein, the world. We do not age, we do not multiply, we do not even completely die when one of our souls is absorbed by another dovah." He glanced at both leaders, who didn't seem shaken by this revelation. "If I were to walk up to a priest of the Nine Divines and tell him what I told you, he would call me a heretic...assuming he would still be conscious after seeing me, that is." This did raise a chuckle out of the Khan. "I do know, however, that it is of no difference to you since it's not your religion and while you know of The Nine, you don't consider them gods deserving of worship. The point is, as a son of the God of Time, I can feel a certain...pressure when an extraordinary mortal comes close to me. The pressure of their destiny. We dovahhe call this pressure Qalos. An emperor creates more than a soldier, who in turn creates more than a farmer...but heroes, ho, those best all others. And that mortal I met? I've never met anyone with so much potential for world-changing events."

Nibani Maesa slowly nodded.

"I understand. Now, is there anything more you wish to say to convince us, or would you rather rely on telling us something that you might have just fabricated? If you know the other prophecies, why don't you just say them so that I can check how valid they are?"

Damn. She's good.

"I can't do that for one simple reason—in order for the Nerevarine to fulfill her destiny, she must discover the lost prophecies on her own. It is part of the task. I can, however, confirm that I am indeed a seer by telling you of the Seven Trials...which I know weren't lost, but just hidden and guarded by you and your predecessors."

Ha! Take that, thought Ted as the Wise Woman flinched. Ted began calmly:

"Seven trials. What he puts his hand to, that shall be done. What is left undone, that shall be done. First trial: On a certain day to uncertain parents incarnate moon and star reborn. Second trial: Neither blight nor age can harm him. The Curse-of-Flesh before him flies. Third trial: In caverns dark Azura's eye sees and makes shine the moon and star." Oh please, please don't say I'm remembering it wrong... "Fourth trial: A stranger's voice unites the Houses. Three Halls call him Hortator. Fifth Trial: A stranger's hand unites the Velothi. Four Tribes call him Nerevarine." He stopped and smiled. "Do I need to go on?"

God, please, don't let her ask for more, that's all I remember in detail...

"No, it's fine. I can see you aren't lying; you do know the prophecies."

Ask and you shall receive.

"Now that I have proven that I indeed know what I'm talking about, I guess it is time that I tell you the reason behind my involvement. You see, I am certain that the Nerevarine, sooner or later, will come to your tribe seeking aak, guidance. The problem is that if we are not careful enough she might not be able to do it."

"Why would that be?" questioned Sul-Matuul. "What could possibly be stronger than a prophecy-driven hero?"

"Prejudice."

Ted said nothing more, giving the others a chance to figure this out on their own. Manirai, on the other hand, had no desire to prolong his games.

"She's a Khajiit."

The other two seemed crushed by this news...just not in the way the Erabenimsun Wise Woman expected.

"A Khajiit? No...how can the Nerevarine become Hortator of three Houses if their members won't even see her as an equal?" Nibani Maesa muttered.

"That is troubling news indeed. Even other tribes would have their doubts about naming an outlander Nerevarine. The task, incredibly difficult all on its own, has now gotten ten times worse."

"Do not despair just yet," reassured Ted. "My name isn't Word-Forging-Guide for nothing. I know what to say to save her a lot of trouble in that trial...but that is a worry for future me. For now, I only need you to break the news in the gentlest way possible, so that there will be no problems on your end."

The Ash Khan only glanced at him with doubt.

"You do realize that your words won't be enough to make us sure she's the one?"

"No one would be able to call you a responsible kinbok if you believed a story told by a total stranger without any proof, even if said stranger was a mythical beast with prophetic powers." Rotheimaak shrugged as best as a dragon could. "Give her a test in which she could prove she has the skills. Nothing too time consuming—I do what I can to make sure she fulfills her destiny as soon as possible, so that less jorre will suffer from Dagoth's madness and the Tribunal's misguided attempts to help." He smirked at the Khan. "I believe you already might have something in mind. Yes, the retrieval of that bow might be indeed a good choice."

Now that finally made Sul-Matuul imitate a fish, with how he kept on opening and closing his mouth, with no sound coming from it—clearly his timing was so perfect he pretty much said aloud what the Dunmer was thinking at the moment. Ted counted surprising him like that as his so-far greatest achievement. He chuckled, which finally made the chief put his surprise aside.

"And you say you want to make it easy for her?" asked Sul-Matuul without emotion before showing his own amusement the same way. "Truly, the only more difficult task I could give her in close proximity to the camp would be sending her to one of the daedric shrines." His look turned a bit more serious as he added: "You are rather big, but the burial caverns of our tribe are rather spacious, so in theory you could get in there. Of course, you won't accompany her?"

"On your trial? Perish the thought, that would defeat the purpose of this task. I will stay in the camp for the entirety of her mission. After that, though? Once she proves herself to the tribe, I'll be able to finally offer her my full support." At their questioning glances, he gave further explanation. "I already know she is a hun, Heroine, but she doesn't. If I were to offer help now, she would be very suspicious of me, which would hinder her in ending untte as soon as possible. If I did that after she knew what's going on, but before the trials, she would keep thinking she doesn't deserve my help nor that I am sane for putting so much trust in her. After your task though I can claim that any doubt I had was proven unjustified by her newest feat of power, so that she will no longer doubt my sincerity. The fact her spirits will be high after such victory will help as well."

Nibani Maesa smiled.

"And then the two of you will be reunited as brothers in arms...or rather now a brother and sister in arms."

Ted blinked. He waited for a moment for some sort of realization or maybe a follow-up, but that was all. Finally he decided to simply ask.

"What do you mean by that?"

She looked at him in confusion.

"What is it that perplexed you? I believe my words were simple enough. Nerevar was a male, his reincarnation is a female. What is hard to understand about that?"

"That's not what seems strange to me." Ted narrowed his eyes in focus while also lowering his head so that it's on the level of the Dunmer. "What do you mean by 'reunited'?"

Sul-Matuul also was surprised by his reaction.

"You mean you don't remember?"

"Remember what?" growled Ted, annoyed at how slow they were to explain this to him.

"He doesn't...!" gasped Nibani Maesa. "He really doesn't remember!"

He looked at Manirai, hoping to get some answers from the other Wise Woman, but she seemed as confused as him.

"Rotheimaak," started Sul-Matuul, for the first time using his name. "Do you really not remember the Battle of Red Mountain?"

Ted frowned.

"Why would I remember that at all?" he asked and then followed with the excuse that worked just fine so far. "When the last of the dragons were being hunted down by the Bronne back in the Merethic Era, I burrowed myself at Sahqo Strunmah and slept there for millennia. I wasn't even active during the war with the Dwemer in the First Era, even if I was technically very close to the battlefield. Why should I remember the final battle?"

"But...our stories and legends speak of you. They speak of Nerevar Indoril, a leader of both the Tribes and the Houses, and of Rotheimaak the Thunder-Lizard, who assisted him in the final battle and even tried to save him from Tribunal's betrayal. You are the final sign, the one whose return were to mark the time of the Nerevarine by your own words, repeated from one Wise Woman of Urshilaku to another to this very day. 'Fear not, followers of Veloth! My part in this era is done, but I'll be back...and with me Nerevar reborn!'."

Ted's jaw joined his wings on the ground.

"You mean you really don't remember?"

Guys, guys. Listen. You know, I suddenly had this great idea just how to insert Ted into the very main quest without making it look suspicious to other people connected to the Nerevarine and the prophecy. When I came up with it I actually had to sit down, that's how shocked I was at my own sudden genius. I will use the one thing that, based on lore, we know should exist for each Hero, but doesn't actually show up in TES III... It's gonna be awesome, but it will take many chapters to fully explain, leaving you slightly confused until it happens.

I believe this is the last chapter before Ald'ruhn part of the story. Yep, that's right - Azirra at last changes her surroundings. Until then. Merry Christmas everyone!