Half a year. Again. And the two reasons behind it are so very simple.

One: writer's block. Simple as that. I've written Rotheimaak's part and a bit of Azirra's and then I was stuck. I wasn't joking when I said in earlier chapters that we are in the moment of a story where my ideas are few and I'm looking for inspiration. Originally Azirra's detour before meeting Ted again was meant to be much, much longer than I currently plan to - but recently I realized that this, despite my best wishes, might actually kill this fanfiction. I just don't have much for Rotheimaak to do until he once more butts in into the main quest and I can't really simply skip him for a longer period of time, he's one of the two main characters. So, yeah. I cut some content for Azirra and shifted the rest of it for later, when Rotheimaak's presence would affect it anyway.

The other reason? Give your thanks to Skyrim - I finally have a laptop that can actually run 'mod until it crashes' version of fifth installment. So I modded it... and modded it... and modded it... Until I noticed that half a year passed again and I was still stuck at 4k words out of necessary 6k.

And my Skyrim still hasn't crashed. Damn.

Anyway, let's get to reviews.

dorumon - A spell that summons a slaughterfish? That should be put in Geneva convention.

deathcombo99 - It took way more time than it should but yes, the show must go on. I fully intend to see this through.

HermitWitch - Yes, I went with showing the Morrowind from the perspective of a gamer with plenty of knowledge on lore while contrasting it with a shy, native to that world fuzzball that must put in a lot of work just to feel good about herself. The more I write about the two, the more life they gain - I can at this point easily picture how each would react to a situation. Sometimes it forces me to alter previously planned events to keep them in character and I love that.

Accursius - I actually have a few ideas on how Roth could take trolling to the next level, but it requires time. First he must become Azirra's companion before I can really get started. As for backstory, it won't be easy - one chieftain and two Wise Women already know he has no memories of his friendship with Nerevar, so anything he cames up with must factor in this contradiction. Won't be easy to explain.

Cheesecake244351 - I will tell only this: Ted isn't lucky enough to be completely free of Jerry. As for if that daedra was Jerry... I dunno, to be honest. Wasn't planning for him to be, but it would fit with how he acted. It can go either way, I might make it canon or not. I suppose it's up to you readers to decide.

Some Guy In An Ambulance - I shit you not, there really will be a moment when Roth will get a top hat. Maybe not this particular story (I gotta save something for sequels, I still have two games to go), but he will. And then M'aiq in his colovian fur helmet will lose his position on the throne of trolls.

With reviews replies done, let's get back to action, shall we?

EDIT: My beta-reader didn't reply to my message, so this chapter is potentially angry-grammar-Nazi-mob inducing. JDLENL most likely simply didn't check his mail/message box. If so and you are reading this, no hard feelings - I'm guilty of doing so myself.

"GOD DAMN IT! HOW MANY FUCKING CAMPS ARE IN SHEOGORAD?!"

There's one problem with being stuck in an expansive world that you used to see on your computer's screen and acting on the knowledge you gained this way: sometimes you just don't remember something that wasn't really a big deal back then, but now is of importance. Since there's no convenient wiki accessible on the phone so that you don't even have to turn off the game (and inflict on yourself the Curse of the Loading Screen), you must do everything the old fashioned way and just find all needed shit yourself. Rotheimaak vaguely recalled the quest to kill a murderous Ashlander for a trader of Urshilaku tribe and that the killer was somewhere in the Sheogorad region in a camp, but that's all. He didn't even remember the names involved, to say nothing about a reward - which was apparently so unimportant to his character that he probably pawned it back to the quest giver and immediately forgot about it.

Now the lack of a perfect memory was biting him in the ass. After all, in case you didn't know, there was A LOT of islands in Sheogorad. And the camp could be on almost any that was bigger than himself. AND he had to find the right camp too, meaning that his initial plan of just landing on the tent and killing the outcast Ashlander inside was out of the question.

He was fairly certain that in the original game there weren't this many camps in the area. Either it was a camping season and Sheogorad was the best spot, or...

Rotheimaak scowled as he figured out the most likely cause.

"Fucking mods. Can't find anything anymore..." he grumbled as he dived towards another camp. "Well, at least this cloud has a silver lining too: the chances of encountering the precious cinnamon roll that is Julan are now more than zero. I should pay another visit to Ghostgate when I'm done with this Hitman business just to make sure."

Speaking of Hitman business...

"Hey, grounded twats!" he bellowed when hovering over yet another camp. "Come outside and hope that the guy I'm looking for is not amongst you! Because if he is I will set more things on fire than just the fire pit!"

A feminine shriek came from the tent and a group of scantily clad Dunmers jumped outside. Scantily clad female Dunmers. Only female Dunmers.

"Crap, another wrong camp... but I don't mind the results that much."

A fireball flew past his head. Correction: Scantily clad witches.

After several hours of nothing but flying all over the western Sheogorad and scaring random campers, Rotheimaak slowly realized he was getting both fatigued and hungry. Once he checked two more camps for anyone fitting a description given to him by Kurapli and once more ending up disappointed, the dragon decided to give himself a break and hunt down a dinner.

It was then that a truly massive beast came within his eyesight.

"Oh ho!" he shouted as the animal majestically levitated with all it's tentacles right above the ground. "This netch looks even bigger than others... And I haven't eaten one just yet, right? Not to mention eating so much would keep me going for days without any more hunts..."

It didn't however take long to spot three problems with the idea.

"One, it has strange colors. Two, I can't identify even half of its parts. And three, it's bigger than my head. That makes it three out of three in the List of Things You Should Be Wary Of Eating."

...

"Who am I kidding, I always ignored that list. And pizza is still great despite breaking all rules. A netch it is!"

Without any further ado the dragon jumped and his fangs sinked into what he could only guess was the head of the netch. Given just how much it thrashed before it finally succumbed to a massive lizard on it's back, either he was right or he bit its privates.

"NOOOO! WHY?!"

Rotheimaak jumped back at the scream, which came from no visible source.

"Huh?! Who's there?! Show yourself!"

"Why did you have to do that?! Now I have to search for a new netch! Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find something this resistant, but also flying, so that you can't just walk up to it and stab it in the eye with a kitchen utensil?!"

Now, that the sentence was longer and he was expecting it, the dragon could recognize the voice. He frowned.

"...Sheogorath?"

"No, Humpty Dumpty! Of course it is me! Why did you do that?! OH, I know! You were just jealous, weren't you? Afraid that Steve the Netch was going to take over as the most maddening agent of mine once some mortal finally tried to kill it with my little toy!"

"...Ah. Now it makes sense."

I remember that fucking quest. Who the hell came up with it? Killing a creature with a decent health bar with a weapon that dealt one point of damage? I threw my keyboard outside when I found out you could just use a timed spell on a netch and then equip the weapon before it died for it to work...

"How shameful! Can't stand a bit of fair opposition, can you? Bad doggie! No cookies for you and you sleep on the couch today!"

"Couch would be an improvement from the solid ground, my lord," pointed out another voice, one that Rotheimaak was certain belonged to Haskill, the Mad God's chamberlain.

"Is it? But is it really?! I have slept on the ground after the last Graymarch leveled the palace, you know! It was nice, there was even a rain of vinegar in the morning! Buuuut that was after I tried to crush on Nocturnal's couch. I... we shall not speak of that night."

Rotheimaak decided it was time to address the overbearing prince.

"Um..."

"Oh well, it's nothing new to have my followers kill each other for no reason. You aren't learning from Mazken, dragon boy? That is one influence you do not want to accept unless you like your insides on the outside. But I wouldn't blame you, it IS quite refreshing to do so once in a while, just for the novelty of change."

"Sheogorath, I..."

"Oh my, look at the time! It is time for my dinner. Do come in, Rothy, when you are nearby! There's always a spot for you near my table and a nice, juicy bone to chew on! Ta ta, doggie! Ha ha!"

...

"He was so much more bearable in games."

A soft sigh of relief escaped Azirra's lips as, after walking all the way from the Ebonheart castle to the docks and then searching through the offer of many local merchants, she was finally allowed to take a rest on a bench at the plaza od Foreign Quarters canton in Vivec. The distance wasn't normally so trying, but with her wounds it was far from pleasant. Still, she wasn't doing so bad for a person who was run over by a daedra just the other day.

It never ceased to amaze her how fast worked medical help given by the Imperial Cult, which just happened to have its main headquarters and the only hospital on Vvardenfell in the city (the only hospital for civilians owned by the imperial administration, that is). Another bonus was the cost - that is, to say, none. Azirra wasn't very religious, but she sure was happy there were some people who happened to have both faith and lots of money to donate, so that the Cult could provide free services. The only drawback was that it wasn't as effective or fast as it could be if help was provided by a private healer - priests had access only to cheaper alchemical ingredients.

The priests were nice enough, but the one in charge of her recovery, Noluntius Cadullus, had given her a serious chewing out after she decided to pay a visit to Vivec and sort out a few problems she had yet to resolve.

Now, as she glanced at a door to the nearest building, she was having second thoughts about this whole trip, given that it resulted in a small throb in her chest where only a few hours before Cadullus performed a little bit of bone moving. Magic or not, the body remembered its strain.

At this point she already took care of most of her minor tasks in the city, that is replacing some of what she lost in her unfortunate encounter yesterday - three sets of robes and dry rations for travels. She didn't bother to replace some items - at this stage scrolls were useless to her anyway. Instead she bought something advertised as Adventurer's Basic Kit, which contained all sorts of small items useful in her line of work, like rope or, gods be praised, air-tight containers. Any potential notes, books and scrolls she would acquire in the future won't end up useless after one unplanned bath.

Since her day was going to be quite bad no matter what, she decided she might as well take care of her somewhat unpleasant duties, namely investigating the disposition of the members at Vivec Mages Guild. It counted as unpleasant since it involved one rather loopy archmage.

The staff of this particular guild hall consisted of seven mages. Teleportation services were provided by Imperial named Flacassia Fauseius. Her fellow Imperial, Craetia Jullalian was their alchemist. Another wizard, a Breton called Janand Maulinie, added to their income by selling and creating enchanted goods. This hall had two people willing to sell spell tomes: a Dunmer Malven Romori and an Altmer Sirilonwe. The last two were the archmage himself and his chief advisor, a Dunmer Tiram Gadar.

All those highly skilled mages, with one obvious exception, thought Trebonius Artorius was a total crackpot. One very willing to share his bizarre worldview with anyone willing to listen.

"...And so, as you can see, young mage, it is of the highest priority for our Guild to create a new underground passage between Vvardenfell and the rest of Tamriel. Only this way can we become completely free from Telvanni influence."

Azirra had absolutely no idea how making a travel route not requiring usage of ships could seriously affect any of the Great Houses, isolationist Telvanni in particular (and so did Tiram Gadar, judging by his bored and exasperated expression), but she sure welcomed the opportunity to change the subject for the one she wanted to discuss the most.

"Speaking of Telvanni, what do you think about them, Archmage? Are they a threat to our organization?"

At this question surprisingly Trebonius paused, as if unsure what should he say. Given his lack of care in discussing various and, in his opinion, dire problems, it was more than just a bit strange.

"Ah. Em... You see, guild member, I believe that... um. Could you remind me again your rank?"

"I'm an Apprentice."

"...I see... Well then, Apprentice, I believe that Telvanni wizards are indeed a great threat to our guild. After Armistice restricted their options in offering services, we have become their biggest rival. I have no doubt they just wait for the right moment to strike and remove our Morrowind chapter. At times I fear for my life, knowing those Telvanni lords in their mushroom towers in the east might plot our demise. One day I hope to do something about this... alas, I've yet to find someone capable of solving this problem permanently. But that is a concern for future me, I suppose."

The tip of Azirra's tail swished violently to the side.

Ditching the loopy archmage wasn't particularly difficult - while he was happy to talk about anything Guild-related for hours on end, his advisor was merciful enough to interrupt them under pretense of financial matter that had to be discussed. As soon as she was liberated from talking with a wizard that was obviously scheming to go all stabby stabby on Telvanni councilors, she directed her steps towards the exit from the hall. After a few seconds however she paused.

Actually... why not? The guild hall in Sadrith Mora is the only one left that I must look into. Might as well go there right now. I might not be in any position to do work, but Sadrith Mora is only one teleportation away. I'm trying to cut back on costs, but I've never had an intention of actually going there by foot or even silt strider - there is an entire wasteland of Molag Amur between here and there, no way I'm navigating through sandstorms and rivers of lava.

Our favourite Khajiit knew little about the geography of Morrowind, but what she read was enough to give her an idea how each region looked. Bitter Coast = swamp full of stinking, sneezing-inducing mushrooms. Ascadian Isles and West Gash = coast somewhat similar to those in Cyrodiil, but, again, stinking mushrooms. Sheogorad and Azura's Coast = many little isles... and mushrooms.

...

Actually, everything except Ashlands, Molag Amur and Red Mountain had an overabundance of mushrooms. She should totally go to Dagoth Ur and ask him if she could move in as long as she paid rent.

What was it that I wanted to do? Oh, right. Off to Sadrith Mora then.

Netch was... okay. Not good enough to hunt unless other options consisted of ash spawns of Dagoth-Ur (since, no surprise, they indeed tasted a lot like ash), but they could fill the spot if it was necessary.

Rotheimaak's mood improved only in the evening, when he finally found the bastard Ashlander hiding on the south-western shore of the main island of Sheogorad, along with two other delinquents thirsty for blood of Outlanders. That fight was unworthy of even mentioning, since in this case he was free to battle however he pleased and the thugs were not even half as good warriors as Erabenimsun he fought not so long ago. One of the outcasts didn't even die because of him, but tripped and landed on his own sword.

"So this is what that one guy at work meant when he said some people are too stupid to deserve to live," guessed Rotheimaak before slapping the last Dunmer aside with his tail and cracking his skull in the process. "Makes me wonder if Nords were OP in Skyrim, if a village's worth of farmers and a handful of guards were enough to beat the crap out of weaker dragons."

The only reason we mention this event is not the fight itself, but the idea Rotheimaak got right after he took out the thrash.

"Wait a minute. Should I really leave all of this," he glanced at small camp. "Until some random pesky adventurer comes around to get richer thanks to me? I think not."

He may have been an Elder Scrolls kind of dragon, not Middle Earth type, but Ted, back in his gaming days, was a hoarder. He disliked just letting something go to waste even if it could be acquired without much effort. In Skyrim he figured out the trick with a couldron and a shopkeeper all on his own, before it even become widely known - that is something that tells a lot about a player. Every time he did any roleplaying, he simply had to include kleptomania in character's backstory just for his gameplay to make sense. Leaving so much loot behind simply wasn't in his nature.

Once Dagoth kicks the bucket, thought Rotheimaak, I should take over his volcano stronghold and make a nest there, with a hoard worthy of Smaug. No, wait! That's stupid. The Red Mountain will erupt in several years and take a big chunk of Morrowind with it, I can't even be in the province when it happens. When the Oblivion Crisis comes near I should relocate to Cyrodiil and stay there for two centuries, until time comes to face Alduin-senpai. If I find a way to befriend the Blades I could stay near Cloud Ruler Temple and keep an eye on both provinces. Without that bitch Delphine it shouldn't be so hard, Blades of third era care about protecting the Empire, not butchering dragons.

He made a few calculations, which included sticking his head into the small tent. He nodded a few times.

"I could move everything of worth back to Urshilaku in one course when it comes to weight alone, but there's only so much I can grab without hands. I will need some help. Maybe a tribal or two... yes, that would work. And payment would be an item of their choice from the gathered loot. Problem solved."

Rotheimaak took to the air, grabbing the body of Zallay Subaddamael (whose murderous actions caused this very quest) with his feet in order to settle the deal with Kurapli. The dragon sighed as he realized how he will most likely spend most of the time before Nerevarine's arrival.

Grinding for experience and gold... The more things change, the more they stay the same.

As soon as time-space continuum stabilized around her after the teleportation, Azirra found herself standing in a tightly packed room. Architecture was thoroughly different than other halls - rather than clay the walls consisted of boring, grey bricks. Decor also made her think of home, Kvatch - nothing about this place said it was located in Sadrith Mora rather than Cyrodiil. With several tables taking up the middle there was very little space for more than a few people.

Azirra glanced at the Altmer standing next to teleportation circle, no doubt the mage responsible for maintaining it.

"Hello. Name's Azirra."

The tall woman evaluated her for a second.

"Ah, a fellow member, correct?"

It were simple moments like this that actually made her glad for being released from prison the way she was - never before that particular mess had someone looked at her and said that she was anything but a street urchin. Now? An experienced mage can tell she actually belongs here.

Yes, that was it, wasn't it? She never really belonged. Once she had a home, maybe not one with her real family, but she had one none the less. It wasn't for long, so she barely remembered it. After that the streets of Kvatch were her only home. Now she could actually tell there was some place that accepted her and had a bed that was hers and no one else. She had to contribute to keep it, but that's just common sense. She was finally starting to feel as if she was living, not merely surviving.

Azirra nodded her head.

"Yes, I'm an Apprentice. Not exactly impressive, but I did join less than two weeks ago."

That answer resulted in not one, but two raised eyebrows.

"And you advanced already? I'm pretty sure it's some sort of record... at least in Morrowind chapter. Divines only know how many were advanced through first three or four ranks in a single month back in Cyrodiil just because someone had an uncle on Arcane University." After a second though, a little rectification was made. "Not that I'm implying anything, of course! As much as mages in other provinces like to belittle us, at the very least OUR branch leaders for all their shortcomings do not promote anyone just on the basis of connections."

Azirra's sensitive ears caught a barely audible comment given by the only Dunmer in the room.

"Not with the archmage in Cyrodiil breathing down Trebonius' neck..."

If people here are so open about their opinions, I'll be done in no time.

"Ah, but I didn't introduce myself, didn't I? I am Iniel, also an Apprentice. I'm in charge of teleportation network in Sadrith Mora. Welcome to our guild hall. Are you perhaps here for work? If so, I'm sorry to say Master Wizard Skink-in-Tree's-Shade doesn't right now have any tasks for people with rank lower than Evoker. Believe me, I checked."

"You wouldn't be able to do them anyway, Iniel. With you being a guild guide you are pretty much stuck in the hall during the day until that contract expires. No time to go into the countryside to perform tasks." The same woman that commented earlier upon her colleague's remark decided to butt in. She looked rather old - while her wrinkles were nowhere near as surreal as those of her current healer, there was no doubt she definitely beat him in age given her race. "Greetings, darling. I am Uleni Heleran, resident spellmaker."

'Darling'? If she starts to offer me cookies...

"Ugh, I know that Uleni. But I won't get anywhere in the hierarchy just teleporting people around."

"We both know it's not impossible to advance on the contract of guild guide. I was there, you know, that's how I was promoted. Patience is the key, that's something you young lady seem to forget."

The Altmer rolled her eyes.

"It's one thing to be patient and it's another to be ineffective. You heard Azirra, didn't you? The same promotion from Associate to Apprentice that took you two years of working as a guide she handled in two weeks of most likely difficult work."

Azirra wisely decided to not mention it required her only to collect some flora, buy a ceramic bowl in a shop next door and steal a soul gem in the same building as Ajira. Yes, there was a bit of a danger when collecting the mushrooms in the swamp, but the point still stands - the guild jobs were simply unbalanced. Or maybe Ranis Athrys was.

"Is that so... Am I right to assume those were the jobs out there, in the terrain?" asked aged mage. "I heard those can be quite dangerous."

No, on the first quest I was literally sent to frolic in the grass to collect flowers.

"Er, quite." As an afterthought she added, "On one of the quests I did get attacked by a criminal in the middle of nowhere." Nevermind he had nothing to do with my job. "You said the leader in your hall has no tasks right now?"

"Pretty much," confirmed Uleni. "Skink is a credit to this institution - he actually does what one would expect from an experienced wizard rather than to play politics. I don't know how much truth is there to it, but I heard two other hall leaders, Edwinna Elbert and Folms Mirel have a deal going between the three of them to back up each other in their studies. Elbert studies Dwemer, Mirel studies Chimer and ancient Dunmer, while Skink studies more esoteric matters, like vampirism, Ashlander rituals and mysticism."

"Huh. I already do some jobs for both of them, but this is first time I've heard they work together."

Iniel waved her hand dismissively.

"'Work together' is a bit much if you ask me. They simply occasionally send over some scroll, potion or potentially useful piece of information that might interest the other two. They don't even talk to each other that much, us lower ranks run all errands in exchange for a few points towards advancement. Not that I mind. Or would mind, if I actually could do these tasks."

The secret agent of the Emperor filed the information away.

Skink-in-Tree's-Shade is a scholar just like Mirel and Elbert, none of them cares about politics. So it's not as bad as I thought - only Trebonius and Athrys are potential sources of trouble... but one of them is an Archmage searching for someone to take down Telvanni councilors and the other tries to send new members to other House Telvanni members with a join-or-die mission. That's hardly a good news.

Caius must hear about this. The sooner, the better.

Despite all her rush in the end Azirra had to admit that in her current condition taking a hike across the entire city of Balmora to get from the Mages Guild to Cosades' house was a bit too much for her still recovering ribs. As such it was only the next day, after a solid ten hours of sleep aided by restoration spells, that she acquired the services of a silt strider caravaner.

As such it was already afternoon when she approached the house of her superior. After being granted access by the paranoid owner (not that his paranoia wasn't justified, given his job), Azirra almost immediately dropped on a chair.

Caius did not earn his rank by being imperceptive. Nor by being subtle when it wasn't necessary.

"Tell me who beat you up and if it will cause trouble for the others."

Azirra's ears flattened against her head at this jab.

"No worries," she murmured. "Just an unplanned run in with a daedra." She shoot him a look. "Don't even think about pointing out I met one on my own while you said you wouldn't send me to face them on my tasks."

"I wasn't going to. But thank you for mentioning it nonetheless."

Her fur bristled. What's this, Caius making an actual joke at her expense?

The Spymaster continued.

"If you say it wasn't connected to your service and won't be traced back to me, then that's all I need to know. But please, be more cautious in the future."

...I really hope the pun in that sentence was unintended.

"With that settled, let's get to the main subject. What do you have to report, agent?"

"I did what you asked for. I've conferred with our friend in Ald'ruhn and checked all guild halls for possible issues." She sighed. "And oh boy, we do have a serious one on our hands."

"Ald'ruhn or the Guild?"

"Ald'ruhn is fine, the mission went without a hitch. The problem is with the Guild. Most leaders are unlikely to cause trouble, since they focus on research first and foremost... with two exceptions. You already know Ranis Athrys instigates conflicts with Telvanni. Well... turns out if nothing is done about it, archmage Trebonius might turn this into a real war. When I talked with him, he implied, in not so subtle way, that he was looking for a hitman to kill Telvanni council since he worries they will attack him first."

She gave her superior a few seconds for that to fully sink in. Cosades slowly sat down on his bed, covered face with both hands and sighed very deeply.

"Children," grumbled older agent. "This land is ruled by children."

Azirra patiently waited for the moment to pass. Eventually Caius settled his palms on his knees.

"I'm getting too old for this... But you haven't come here to witness how I crack under the weight of foolishness that is Morrowind political scene. You came for your orders. Since this turn of events should not be treaded lightly, for now you will leave the worries about the Guild to me, I'll eventually come up with something. You will be returning to your main mission, but keep your ears open for any significant actions done by Athrys or archmage."

Khajiit nodded.

"Fine by me. What do you have for me this time?"

"Take a guess."

"...Intel?"

"You're learning. Yes, intel. Depending on how much your contact knows it might be the last research job for a while, meaning you'll probably get some action after this."

Gulp.

"This time it's going to be a little different - you are meeting not with someone I know, but a stranger. Unfortunately I've never predicted I would need a friend in those particular circles. We need an Ashlander informant. I have heard of a fellow in Ald'ruhn named Hassour Zainsubani, an Ashlander who left the Wastes to become a wealthy trader. I don't know where exactly he is, so you will have to start looking on your own. I'd start the search in Ald Skar Inn - the only two other places of similar function are the Rat in the Pot and the Council Club. They are... useful to people like us, but a respected trader won't appear in places like those regularly." Caius pulled out two coinpurses from a chest and handed both to her. "They say the Ashlanders like to give and receive presents. Take these 100 drakes. Find out what Zainsubani likes, and get him a gift. Then give him the gift, and see if he will tell you about the Ashlanders and the Nerevarine cult. Then report back to me."

"And the rest of the money?"

"Ashlanders might like gifts, but so do the agents of the Emperor," Caius smiled. "Treat yourself to something nice, maybe a spell or two. We aren't working for free, you know."

As Azirra put new funds in her backpack, she braced yourself for a conversation that had a potential of turning out very bad for herself.

"So. A dragon," started Azirra.

"A dragon," agreed Caius. "I assume you know why I didn't mention it when I directed you to Ald'ruhn. I still hardly believe it, even though pretty much an entire city and an imperial fort saw it."

She smiled wryly.

"Yes... If there's one thing he can do well besides surprising people, it's putting on a show."

Imperial visibly tensed.

"Is there something you aren't telling me, Azirra?"

"There might be a liiiitle something, yes... Don't give me that look, I didn't mention him only because you would simply think I'm mad!"

Her boss didn't relax. At all.

"Start from the beginning."

"Alright... I met him first time..."

"'First' time?"

"Don't interrupt, please. I'll get to this. Here it is: I met him for the first time shortly after the soldiers dumped me in Seyda Neen with a package for you. I decided to collect some alchemy ingredients in the swamp in order to have more than just a handful of septims before setting out for Balmora. Just as I was about done, suddenly a corpse of a wizard landed right in front of me, even though there were no cliffs or tress for it to fall from. I look up and there's that dragon, looking right at me and talking."

Caius furrowed his brows at the description of a bizarre meeting.

"What did he say?"

"Um... I... don't really know." She lowered her head. Azirra was all too aware of her burning cheeks. Hopefully her fur would hide that fact. "I caught a few words, but I was too panicked for them to make sense."

"Hmm. And the second meeting."

"I saw him outside the dwemer ruins, where I was searching for that item Hasphat wanted in exchange for his help. And here's where it gets stranger. Hasphat said I would find this dwemer puzzle box of his somewhere inside, probably quite close to the entrance. I didn't. I cut my way through several smugglers and almost died several times in the process, but in the end all I found was a strange door deep in the ruins that was shredding my lockpicks like..." She stopped under Caius' stare. "Right, the dragon. Turns out he had the box from the very beginning. He appeared after I left the ruins and dropped the device at my feet saying I was probably looking for this. Just like that. He also implied having some prophetic abilities."

"Is that so? I assume you didn't run away this time."

Her tail swished angrily to the side.

"Mhm. The dragon, Rotheimaak, claimed that I saved him some trouble by taking down the bandits and this was my payment. The way he said it makes me think he planned to stay there. I think he mentioned a nest or something."

"I see, so we have a trail to follow if we ever need to find him. Anything else?"

"Rotheimaak was quite chatty and suspiciously friendly. He even cracked a terrible joke or two. That was pretty much it. The third and last time I met him... ugh, I still don't know how he did that, but he managed to crawl down to the very bottom of a dunmer tomb."

Cosades' arms, previously tensed, went loose and hung at his sides.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"It was on that job where I had to get a skull with ritual markings. I found him in the same room as the skull. He somehow always knows where I'll be, even though he has no way of learning it. I'm certain Sharn kept the entire deal secret, exposing herself could potentially cost her life. And I'm pretty sure I'd notice if a creature the size of a small house was stalking me. So, as strange as that sounds, I actually believe his claim to be a seer. In any case, after I left the tomb he eventually caught up to me and we had a small talk. Caius... he knows. He somehow knows I am a Blade. He even mentioned you."

The Spymaster sprung up to his feet and this sudden action made Azirra move backwards and fall off the chair, hitting the floor. With a wince she stood up, massaging the elbow on which she landed. When she looked up to her boss...

This was a first time ever she saw him afraid.

"Caius, calm down! He seems to keep those matters to himself, I don't think he is a danger!"

"'Seems to', 'think'... Azirra, don't you understand?! We've been compromised! That dragon, which appeared out of nowhere, knows the names of at least two agents, one of them being the Spymaster! We have no idea how much he knows and with whom he shared this knowledge. Add to that the fact that our order, the Blades, before becoming Emperor's secret service, was dedicated to slaying dragons and we have a potential disaster that could unmake all our progress in the eastern Tamriel! If you were tailed long enough, this unknown opponent knows the identities and locations of every single Blade on Vvardenfell, I did gave you a rundown on our operatives and you met some of them! Even if he is alone, all it would take for him to get rid of us or at least to break our network would be to talk with a councilor of House Dren or House Telvanni and we would be swarmed with assassins, or maybe exposed to the humiliation of the Emperor if it was the Temple he turned to. And you... tell me... to calm down." He paused. "Forget Nerevarine prophecies, forget stupid archmage. This is the most pressing threat. I'll try to find out just how much damage was caused. Not that we are off to a good start, we are far behind..." The Spymaster glared at her. "...because SOMEONE didn't report anything as soon as something suspicious turned up on a mission. Leave."

Azirra was just about to get him to listen, but the older agent cut her off again as soon as she opened her mouth.

"That was an order, Journeyman, not a suggestion. Leave." Some of the anger in his eyes diminished, if only slightly. "...I still need a full report to decide on this situation, so come here tomorrow at seven. For now, though, I have to quickly contact the other agents... and make sure your hesitation hadn't cost my friends their lives."

Azirra clenched her fists... when he put it like this... it really made her look stupid. In the end she really knew nothing about Rotheimaak.

She barely noticed the fact she bit into her bottom lip to the point of drawing blood. Without any further words she stood up, opened all four locks in the front door and left. Once outside, she took a turn right and walked into a small alleyway. From her previous visits she knew it led nowhere - it was just a tiny spot between Caius' house, another nearby building and the city wall, left without purpose. Here Azirra sat down against the wall and, with her chin resting on her knees, she started to wonder just why she took the actions that earned her this dressing down.

She knew nothing about Rotheimaak. And yet... and yet she trusted his word for no logical reason. She had doubts and she convinced herself that Caius wouldn't believe her, however she should go with it anyway - even if he remained sceptical, eventually Cosades would probably still admit she wouldn't tell him an outrageous lie like this. So no, that wasn't an excuse. The truth is... for some reason she simply trusted Rotheimaak where it counts. Even though he didn't earn it and she never met him before.

She didn't... right?

For those that disagree with my portrayal of Caius, since they find it unlikely a spymaster would explode like that: refresh your knowledge about this character. If you go crazy and kill one of the people affecting the main quest, he will explode on you and kick you out of his house while effectively firing you by refusing to ever speak to you again. So yeah, I can easily see him freaking out like that when faced with an unknown person getting intel about his entire Blades branch.

Poor Azirra. She's so confused about her trusting this random stranger. Maybe she knew him in the past life...?

Nah, the wanker probably just bumped up his Speechcraft to 100. See you next time!