Chapter 11

Rumors

XxXxXx

Vivec City, Morrowind – 3E 427

This was the first time Nevano had ever gotten a good look at the palace of Vivec. He had been in the area before, even been right next to the building, but never before had he had the luxury to just stand and stare for a moment without worrying about Ordinators chasing him for one thing or another. It was a massive structure, constructed in the shape of a step pyramid with six levels. At the top he knew was where Vivec himself resided. The rest was called the puzzle canal. It really wasn't something he felt like exploring. It was just something with the name that turned him off.

Looking up at the incredibly long flight of steps Nevano felt exhausted suddenly. Not physically exhausted, though that had plagued him from the moment he had arrived in Morrowind, but mentally worn out. He had done nothing but run and fight the whole time, covering the entirety of Vvardenfell at least three times over, doing his best to suck up (or bribe or kill) just about every person worth noting in just about every city, town, village, camp, mud squat and hole in the ground. He had been fairly hated by everyone and not through his own doing for once. Now, suddenly, at the whim of one being, he was allowed to walk freely without fear of persecution. It was confusing, frustrating and, above all, maddening.

Nevano blinked and realized he was already halfway up the stairs, his body moving automatically. Something was pushing him onward with a determination he certainly didn't feel in his heart. It carried him up the rest of the stairs and up to the oddly plain and heavily locked door to Vivec's abode. It wouldn't let him turn away when his courage faltered, instead pushing him to unlock the door and shoved him on through. He felt a bit like a puppet and someone else was moving his strings. He didn't necessarily like it but he had no time to fully mull this over as he found himself in the presence of the Chimeri God.

Nevano took an instant dislike to Vivec. Well, dislike wasn't quite the word. He had taken one look at the golden Chimer god and a rage had erupted in his belly like the volcano he had died on. Wait…died? Nevano did a mental double take. The rage he felt was…disconnected. It was there, he could definitely feel it but it was as if he was watching it in a cage like a wild animal. It wasn't his. Like the determined force that had carried him up the stairs, the puppet master, it just wasn't HIS.

"I expected you. We have business, you and I."

Nevano had been told Vivec was very direct and to the point but still, it was a bit of a shock when the god barely allowed him to shut the door behind him before launching into it.

"When I was young like you, I was very impatient. So I will keep our business short. Then, later, there may be time for other things. First, I propose to remove my curse upon the Nerevarine, end the persecution of the Dissident Priests, and proclaim to all Morrowind that Nevano is the Incarnate and Nerevarine, the prophesied savior of Morrowind, and the last hope to withstand the menace of Dagoth Ur and the Sixth House. These things I will do, whether you wish or not."

Nevano blinked.

"Next, I propose to surrender to you the power and responsibility of defeating Dagoth Ur. You may choose to refuse; I will not compel you. You will receive the power as a gift, in the form of an artifact called 'Wraithguard." You may accept the gift, then do with it as you will. You will receive the responsibility as an oath. You may give your oath, then keep it or break it as you like. First, will you accept Wraithguard as a gift?"

Nevano watched him warily, still not over the shock, "Yes…" Honestly, what else could he say at this point? Vivec did not smile, did not change his expression from anything other than the bored, impassive look as he passed over a heavy dwemer gauntlet over to the thoroughly confused mer in front of him.

"Good. Sensible of you. And now, will you give your oath, before all gods and men, before all spirits visible and invisible, before my honor and your honor, to dedicate yourself and Wraithguard to the defeat and destruction of Dagoth Ur, and the preservation of Morrowind and its people?"

'Do it.' A small voice instructed in the back of his head, tight with annoyance and agitation. Nevano wanted to squirm in discomfort. He didn't know if he was finally going mad or if there was truly someone else in his head. "I swear…"

"Not very sensible. But very good. I was hoping for someone who would have no hesitations about making such an oath. You will now have a brief, momentary sensation of time passing. Don't be alarmed. You are being taken out of time in order to avoid the unpleasant experience of learning how to use Wraithguard. It will be over before..."

Nevano had no time to be alarmed. He felt as if he had been plunged into a black ocean, the water closing over his head, completely suspended…

"...you know it. Now. I will notify the Temple that you are our champion. There shall be no more persecution of the Dissident Priests, and I hope both sides shall swiftly be reconciled. We have time for questions, if you like. Or you may leave, as you wish. But I think there are at least two things you ought to know before you leave: how to use Wraithguard, and how to defeat Dagoth Ur."

"I think I can figure it out…"

Vivec raised an eyebrow. "You are curious…what really happened at Red Mountain? What really happened to the Dwemer? What was the Dwemer's sin? What is it like to be a god? Do I remember being mortal? How do I feel about the people of Morrowind? Or do you wish to hear my council? Or bitter recriminations?"

"Bitter recriminations? What does Vivec, the warrior poet, the god who lives amongst mortals, have bitter recriminations about?"

"You want to chide me…why did I murder Nerevar? Why did I break my oath to Azura not to use Kagrenac's tools? Why did I cause others to suffer? Well we did not murder Nerevar…"

"LIE!" The mounting irritation that Nevano had been feeling in the back of his mind exploded. SOMETHING seemed to suddenly slip into his skin like someone putting on a coat. His own consciousness was shoved harshly into a corner of his own mind. He became a mere bystander in his own body, watching all the motions yet dimly feeling all that the same time. It was not a pleasant sensation, especially when the foreign presence was so ANGRY.

"You betrayed me, Vivec!" This voice was definitely NOT Nevano's. It was deeper, laced heavily with an accent that had long since been lost to the Dunmer. Suddenly Nevano understood. And, judging by the look of astonishment (and was that a twinkle of fear?) on Vivec's normally impassive face, he understood too. "The ones I counted on the most, my own queen, and I ended up dead on the mountain side. Don't you dare try to deny it. In the darkness Azura's eyes see all and you know, you KNOW, that your stolen immortality will be taken from you and you will have to answer to the prince of dawn and dusk."

Nevano felt the presence leave his body, allowing him to regain control. He was left feeling drained and sick. His hands shook like crazy. Nerevar had used a lot of his energy to maintain his spirit in this body for that long, especially with that little speech. Ghosts normally couldn't invade a body with a soul already occupying it like that…was he really Nerevar? Was Nerevar actually IN him? He looked up at Vivec, who was starting to open his mouth to reply.

"Don't. Just…don't. I refuse to be used as the middle ground between a dead general and a god who stole his immortality and the deadra prince who calls me her champion. I'll defeat Dagoth Ur…and to hell with the rest of you. The people of Morrowind have suffered enough from your stupidity. At this point, I don't care who killed who thousands of years ago. I don't care about the Temple, I don't care about the Great Houses…I just care about the innocents who are out there clinging to a small hope that SOMEONE will save them, even as friends and family drop dead around them and monsters plague their dreams. Assuming you have a plan and a map written out somewhere, I'll take them and be on my way."

Vive wordlessly nodded towards a dais with several sheaths of paper on it. Nevano grabbed them, glanced quickly over them and shoved them in his pack. Now the anger growing in him was his own, but instead of the blinding rage of Nerevar, this one was filled with determination. This land was filled with greedy politicians who claimed to care, but in reality couldn't see beyond their own noses. Nevano intended to change that, starting with Dagoth Ur. But there was one last thing he needed to do before he left…

"The Ordinator Jorun Veleth." Nevano frowned, turning back to the god, "I want him reassigned. The Ordinators didn't know what they had but I think the Buoyant Armigers would appreciate his skills far more."

The god raised an eyebrow, "You think I would presume to extend my influence to one mer who clearly defied his oath?"

Once again Nevano felt Nerevar's anger rise up in him, mingling with his own. He refused to be blinded by it though and shoved it back into its corner. "You'll do it because you want to win against Dagoth Ur and that's the mer who will help me accomplish that. I'll inform him myself, escort his family to Balmora if need be…you just need to inform Ghost Gate that he'll be there. And a good position too. If I find out he's been assigned to clean up someone else's shit I WILL come back and you and I WILL have business to conduct. But I highly doubt you want to face me again after I permanently destroy your immortality. He served you loyally…now he will serve me."

Vivec stared at Nevano a long moment before finally nodding. Nevano noted the finality he added to it. A dismissal. Very well then. He left, Nerevar finally going quiet in the back corner of his mind. It was time to end this insanity.

XxXxXx

4E 201 Rain's Hand – Blacklight, Morrowind

Father and son made their way through the streets of Blacklight, neither speaking to the other. It wasn't that they didn't want to but that it wasn't safe to. There were unfriendly ears all over the city, not all necessarily Thalmor. It was a sad state of affair when they had to be wary of their own people but there were many of the disgraced house Hlaalu who would do anything to see Redoran fall, even at the cost of the people of Morrowind. Such was the bitter rage of those who felt betrayed. It was a giant twisted game of intrigue but in both Veleths' minds the stakes were far too high for this to be a mere game.

It didn't take them long to navigate back through the city, through the residential areas, through the market district, back to the Rootspire district. By now the sun was fully up and the city was crowded with people going about their business. That made it easier to blend in…but also harder to pinpoint anyone trying to tail them. It was a nerve-wracking journey, one that Veleth was glad to be through with once they reached Rootspire.

Rootspire was just that, a giant spiraling tower made up of the roots of a giant mushroom whose cap cast shadows over the city. It had been grown long ago by Telvanni wizards whose names had been lost to even the long memories of the Dunmer. Like most Telvanni dwellings the interior of the trunk had been carved into twisted hallways, opulent rooms and more than one secret passage. Unlike most Telvanni mushroom buildings however there was no need for levitation. Over the centuries stairs had been added in for those who either couldn't or didn't want to have magical aid in moving about the structure.

Councilor Morvayn was waiting for them in the entrance hall. He was outwardly calm enough but Veleth could tell he was getting impatient. He knew he was still within the time given to him but Archmaster Ramoran was a very punctual mer and hated tardiness. The councilor couldn't afford to be late even by a few moments, especially not with Raven Rock in its precarious position.

"Oh good, you're both here." He said upon seeing them, "Take the side staircase up to the observation room. If you find a Thalmor on your way there…well, no one will miss them. Go go, the council meeting will start in a few moments."

That statement would prove to be the ONLY highlight in the younger Veleth's day. Sadly he never got the chance to act on it. No Thalmor stood in their way as Jorun led his son up a smaller staircase hidden behind a small door. At the end of the staircase was a small room that was partially hidden from the massive council room below. By leaning against the wall and slightly craning his neck he could see the councilors filing in, the archmaster already seated at the front of the room.

Hlaren Ramoran was an ancient Dunmer who had been on House Redoran's council longer than anyone could remember. He had survived Ald-ruhn being overrun by deadra, survived the Red Year and was now the closest thing to a ruling figure Morrowind had. Despite his very advanced age, the archmaster still was sharp of mind and a powerful force to be reckoned with.

Varvur Sarethi and Nartise Arobar had, like Lleril Morvayn, inherited their positions from their parents after they had passed. Both were also from Vvardenfell, their fathers had actually been on the council that had named the Nerevarine the Hortator of House Redoran. Councilor Sarethi had left for Blacklight shortly before the Oblivion Crisis and Councilor Arobar had followed before the mountain had erupted. Veleth didn't particularly like Sarethi; he was a bit too cautious, more willing to follow along with the majority than take a stand on his own. Arobar, on the other hand, was a tough mer. She was outspoken, clever and had a razor sharp tongue that was sharper than any sword. She was far more willing than Sarethi to get things done. Her biggest flaw was that the methods she chose were often morally questionable. Often she either couldn't, or wouldn't, see that her plans were unethical. Suggestions made to help improve her ideas often made her snappish and defensive, making dealings with her rather difficult.

Veleth didn't really know much of the final two, Teleri Llervu and Saryn Andavel. Llervu was a very common Dunmeri surname and he wasn't sure just which family she came from. Not that it mattered really; Teleri Llervu was a very non-descript mer. She rarely spoke at meetings and never seemed to apply herself too much of anything. The captain was fairly certain she was plopped on the council to fill the final seat when they couldn't find anyone willing to be in the room with Arobar without breaking down in hysterics. Saryn Andavel was from the far eastern region of the mainland. He was young in comparison to the rest of the councilors and had served in the militia for a time. He was a good mer but usually was over-ruled by his elders on the council. Other than that Veleth didn't know much about him.

"We do not have much time so I will skip the formalities." The archmaster said, "We have discussed the matter of the Thalmor to death. We know that we stay with the empire because of our weakened state and that our people gain some sort of prosperity, as well as a small peace of mind, from them. It's a dying empire; one we can't rely on forever. But that is not why I called you all here today."

A clerk brought out a scroll and handed it to Archmaster Ramoran. It was obviously a foreign made scroll: instead of a more fibrous paper that reflected Morrowind's tough flora, it was a paper pulp, indicative of Imperial or Nordic make. He unrolled it to reveal a detailed drawing of two swords.

"We received this along with a note from the Thalmor Embassy in Skyrim three months ago. The Thalmor are claiming that these two swords that they… recovered are the legendary Truefire and Hopesflame, the swords that belonged once to Lord Nerevar and Lady Almalexia, most recently in the possession of the Nerevarine. They are offering them back to us, as a token of good will, IF we sign a concordant with them stating that we secede from the Empire…and agree to join the Aldmeri Dominion."

Instantly the room erupted. Every councilor was on his feet shouting in indignant outrage, even the more timid ones. Veleth felt like joining them. Join the Aldmeri Dominion…JOIN the ALDMERI DOMINION?!

"Easy boy." Jorun said, frowning at the council meeting below.

"SILENCE!"

The sheer power of the bellowed command forced every councilor back into their seats and silenced them instantly.

"Enough of that. No, we are not going to just hand everything over on a whim." Ramoran sat back down and steepled his fingers together, "However, I would like some confirmation of the validity of this claim on the swords. Councilor Andavel, I believe you have some men stationed at the ready at Dunmeth Pass?"

"Yessir. They keep tabs on…"

"Good, spare some men and have them go to Skyrim and check on this claim. Councilor Arobar has a few spies she will lend to the mission. I want them to leave at once."

Nartise Arobar blinked but didn't protest. She heard the command given and only a fool would argue with the archmaster when he was in this mood.

"Now about…" The archmaster trailed off, glaring at the door. Everyone turned in their seats, following his gaze to the door as it flew open. Up in the observation deck, Veleth started to turn to look but his father dragged him back towards the door, motioning for him to be silent. Several sets of footsteps marched into the room. Veleth heard the military sharpness as they marched in and then the swish of them turning on their toes into position. Then a solitary set walking into the room. Judging by the cold silence below, the intruder was not welcome in the slightest.

"Archmaster Ramoran I am surprised at you." An oily voice echoed through the room, "You called a little meeting and didn't invite me."

"First Emissary Calindil…" Ramoran said icily, contempt dripping in his voice, "I don't recall having to inform you of every meeting House Redoran conducts."

"We are simply here to uphold…"

"Yes yes, so you've been repeating since the moment you decided to take up space in our city. Same as the last dithering fool before you." The ancient Dunmer spat, giving up all pretense of being polite to the Thalmor emissary, "That doesn't give you permission to just walk in on any meeting you please without sending word ahead at the very least."

"Oh I think you'll find that I can."

Veleth dared to take a few steps forward to get a better look. Four Thalmor Justiciars were standing at attention at the door. The Redoran soldiers at attention around the room had moved into a more aggressive position, ready to force the intruders out of the room should the council give the order. He glanced back at his father, raising an eyebrow in a question.

"Newly arrived here in Blacklight and even less well loved than the last fetcher." Jorun whispered so quietly his son had to step closer to hear, "The last emissary went…missing one day. This one is a bit wilier. No relaxing walk in the swamps for this one…"

"Hear me, you arse-kissing n'wah." Ramoran stood up, quaking in fury, "I don't care WHAT you claim in Cyrodiil. This is Morrowind. This is MY city. You will abide by MY rules. I will not have a horde of snotty gold elves thinking they own us running wild in MY city, harassing MY people and tracking us like we're some prizes won in a drinking match!"

"Oh but you are prizes. We won you in a war, or did you forget?" the emissary grinned nastily, "I understand if you did. Old age does that even to the best of us. So I shall remind you; The empire, the empire that Morrowind still belongs to, lost the war to us, the Aldmeri Dominion. Thus you, the Dunmer, became spoils of war. We can do whatever we want, including listening in to your little…meeting."

"Guards! Escort our Thalmor visitors out. At sword point if you please. I won't say anything if they walk out of Rootspire with a few extra holes in them." Instantly the well-armed soldiers leaped to attention, swords and pikes brandished. The four justiciars bristled but the emissary held out a hand to stop them. He wasn't dumb enough to incite a fight when he was badly outnumbered.

"Oh Archmaster Ramoran, this isn't over."

"Oh I believe it is. Now get out of my meeting."

The air was thick was tension as the Thalmor were escorted out. Veleth found that he was clenching his hands into fists, his fingernails cutting crescents into his palm.

"If only we were back in the time of the Nerevarine…we need a champion." Councilor Sarethi murmured as soon as the doors shut behind the Thalmor.

The younger Veleth nearly groaned out loud as he sat down heavily. The Nerevarine. Again.

"Something the matter, son?"

"You and everyone else...the Nerevarine is gone. He's been gone a long time." Veleth growled, "What was said? He went to Akavir? Either way he's gone. Gone or dead. The swords the Thalmor claim to have are probably something they had someone draw from something they saw in a book. I doubt they even HAVE a pair of swords. It's a ruse. They are simply trying to control us. From the sound of things it's working."

"Hmmm, I see." Jorun nodded, not bothered in the least at his son's outburst, "And you raise several very valid points. However, I'm going to blow a good portion of that out of the water. The Nerevarine is still around and, I firmly believe, very much alive. He's a hard bastard to kill."

"And how, pray tell, do you know THAT?"

"Because I'm the one who started the rumor that he went to Akavir." Jorun said with a smile. "And, quite simply, I lied."

The younger mer, for the second time that day, was pretty certain his jaw had just bounced on the floor somewhere.

"I know you know the story of how your mother and I met the Nerevarine. You grew up on those stories. But there's a fair few I didn't tell you." Jorun explained patiently, "About 6 years after Red Mountain, right before the Oblivion Crisis, he came to visit. It was so painfully apparent how bad the stress of trying to help Morrowind back on its feet was affecting him. So I spread that rumor so he could break away from all that. He had worked hard enough to break us free...we couldn't continue to rely on him like that. As for your theory that those swords are NOT Truefire and Hopesflame, you could very well be right. However if it IS them, then their rightful owner won't be too long behind to claim them, if it hasn't happened already. The Thalmor are holding fire in their hands."

"What if..." Veleth couldn't believe he was suggesting this, "What if they think he's back as well? What if it was a ruse to bring the Nerevarine out of hiding? To use him against us as well."

"Then they'll die."

"Simple as that..."

"Simple as that." Jorun looked at his son, "The Nerevarine wouldn't allow himself to be used in such a way…especially not against his own people."

The younger captain didn't push for more information. He had heard enough and somehow, after finally hearing the truth, it just didn't seem enough

"Go back to Raven Rock. If the Thalmor come there, do your best to keep them in the dark." The elder Veleth turned his attention back to the council meeting below, which had turned to more mundane things now that the interruption was over, "Currently the Thalmor are preoccupied with watching things in Skyrim. When this whole thing with the dragons and the civil war die down, they'll turn their full attention to us. Things will come to a head. I'm just not sure how. For right now, things will be difficult just holding ourselves together in the face of this."

Captain Veleth nodded, his face stony as he watched the politicians below.

XxXxXx

Winterhold, Skyrim - Second Seed 4E 201

Nevano leaned back against the wall, eyes closed and arms crossed, only half listening to Arniel babble on. He was used to listening to mages babble. Usually only the first and last sentence was pertinent. Everything else was nonsensical babble that didn't pertain to him. He had only been at the College of Winterhold for a week, he had taken his time getting to Winterhold, helping people along the way. It felt good getting back to his old lifestyle, the life of the adventurer. He was starting to see what Kodlak meant, that no matter how far he wandered, he could not escape who he was, what he was. He had been so out of sorts running from himself and now, being what he was meant to be, just felt right.

But feeling right didn't make dealing with mages any easier. Almost 200 years ago, the Mages Guild had dissolved, thanks to widespread paranoia after the Oblivion Crisis. It had splintered into two separate factions; the Synod and the College of Whispers. Now instead of there being one well behaved faction, there were two rival factions pushing the limits of public tolerance and the laws of nature in order to win favor of the favor of the Elder Council. The College of Winterhold, he had discovered, was an independent university altogether. They were not affiliated with either faction, though both factions were certainly vying for their support. Like a bad love story, the College of Winterhold wanted nothing to do with the annoying suitors. But being independent like they were meant they abided only by their rules, and, to Nevano, mages had really strange rules.

Which was how he found himself leaning against a wall, listening to Arniel Gane go on about a project to learn about the disappearance of the dwarves. When Nevano had initially heard that he had mentally rolled his eyes. Yet another mage trying to uncover the mysterious disappearance of the dwarves. Again. Emphasis on again. Nevano himself had met the last living dwarf and even HE had no idea what had happened. They magicked themselves away. That was the closest explanation that sounded even slightly plausible. But no one could fully accept anything less than a truth they could see and touch and so mages continued to conduct experiments to try to figure it out. At least it kept them occupied and away from far worse experiments.

"I got the cogs, I got the charged soul gem…" Arniel murmured, going over his check list nervously, "All we need is…drat!"

"What are you missing this time?" Nevano yawned, idly wondering just what weird powder or spore might be in the air in this magical place and what it might do to him now that he inhaled a lungful of it.

"I ordered a package through Enthir…"

"Say no more…" Nevano sighed, pushing himself off the wall. Enthir was the local…black market of sorts. He officially proclaimed himself to be a sorcerer of the college but Nevano called foul on that. The shady Bosmer was simply using that title as a cover-up to run a back street market of magical items, especially since he never seemed to catch the mer actually DOING anything at the college other than make bad deals with the mages who were often too distracted or too naïve to do more than go along with it. Nevano already had a run-in with Enthir within a few days of arriving, when the sole Nord in the college had begged for help in getting his family amulet back from Enthir after he traded it. Nevano had had a "talk" with the Bosmer. Fifteen minutes later he delivered the amulet back to its rightful owner. Now it seemed he would have to have another talk with the underhanded dealer.

Of course "talk" meant grabbing the annoying mer by the collar of his robes, pinning him to a wall and worrying him like a dog with a rat.

"What do you want you insane Dunmer?!" he squawked when Nevano slammed him against the wall.

"I'm getting real sick of having to deal with you." Nevano glared, "Where's Arniel's delivery?"

"Look I'm not holding out on him, I swear!" Enthir waved his hands plaintively, "I have no idea what it is…or where it is. I was simply asked to find someone to get it here from Morrowind! Last I heard there was bandit activity around Lost Knife Hideout. It's south of here, down by the Throat of the World. When you see Fort Amol you'll know you're close."

"Answer me this…WHY would a package from MORROWIND get lost that far SOUTH when it's nearly a direct route from Winterhold to Dunmeth Pass?" Nevano narrowed his eyes, punctuating his words by giving the increasingly terrified mer a quick shake, "And WHY do you know so much about this place?"

"I don't know! Maybe there was an ambush? Look I just know it's a good place to look!"

"If I find out you have ANYTHING to do with this package going missing, there is not a hole in this frozen hell that you can crawl into to hide from me, understand?"

"Yes I do and no I didn't!"

Nevano dropped the smaller mer to the ground and strode off to his rented room at the Frozen Hearth to grab his pack. It was time to go dungeon diving.

XxXxXx

Lost Knife Hideout turned out to be a cold damp cave partially hidden by a waterfall. Nevano strode in, keeping his weapons holstered for the time being. He was finally well equipped to deal with whatever the cave would hold and his confidence was bolstered.

Right away he came upon two bandits sitting around a fire. Bonebiter quickly took care of them and he strode on, coming into the biggest cavern he had ever seen. He had stop and take it all in; waterfalls fell all around the room into a small lake below. A giant column of natural rock rose up in the center of the cavern. Wooden walkways had been constructed along the upper ledge to the right while a natural bridge went off to the left. Several bandits were walking around up on the ledges and around the center column. Nevano grinned and twirled an arrow around his fingers.

A few minutes later he strode through the rocky halls, twin swords drawn. He wouldn't allow himself to be trapped by the thought that this was easy but…he was thoroughly enjoying himself. With Bonebiter at his back and Hopesfire and Trueflame back at his side, he was making quick work of the bandits.

He meandered through the halls, taking care of whatever obstacles that he came across. He walked quickly through a larder, stopping momentarily to help himself to a slice of roast rabbit the bandits had just left on the table. As a general rule he usually didn't eat while on missions. Either time was of the essence or there was simply too much danger to be distracted for a moment. But in bandit dens he usually allowed himself that indulgence. Bandits, by and large, usually had really decent food stores. Their greed stretched beyond monetary wealth and in addition to stealing coin and valuables, they cleared out the pantries and larders. Nevano had known more than one bandit group that stole only livestock and produce. They made a decent living off of it too. In fact, some of the best meals he ever had been from bandit stores. And it was free, after he killed the bandits that is. If he didn't have a pressing deadline, he'd go back and clear out the food stores so he could eat like a king on the way back home.

He went down another hallway, across a bridge, shooting another bandit along the way and came into a big cavern with several levels, cages lining the level directly below him. A wall had been built along the lip down to the next level. From his vantage point Nevano couldn't see into the chasm below the wall. The bad thing about that was that he couldn't get an accurate count over how many bandits were actually in the cave. From where he was he could only see one off to his right. He could go along the edge to his left to see better but it was well lit and he didn't want to lose the element of surprise just yet.

The mer carefully crept to the ramp to his right. Azura granted him good luck as he quickly sent an arrow into the neck of the one bandit to the right. It was a quick kill, a silent one, and no one came running to investigate. He darted down the ramp and over to the barrels on the small rise, ducking down behind them. This wasn't a good spot to be, as backlit as he was with the fire pit next to him. Anyone glancing up would see him. Sucking in a big gulp of air he slid around the barrels and down the ledge to the darkened tables below.

"Is an'one man enough t'take me on?!" a slurred voice bellowed through the cave, nearly making Nevano jump clean out of his skin. He hunkered down under the table, his heart beating wildly. The twin swords heated up on his hips in reaction to his distress, begging to be loose. "No one? How 'bout you?"

Slowly Nevano angled his head up. A drunk bandit was wildly swinging a great sword around, dangerously close to removing his own head once or twice. Around him lay a dead cave bear and 3 other bandits who had been wildly hacked to bits.

Nevano sighed. He knew what he needed to do. He pulled out Truefire and Hopesflame, mentally commanding them to stay unlit, and carefully leaned them against the makeshift wall. Then he pulled out Bonebiter. Shooting the drunk idiot would completely blow his cover, but he would rather face a cave full of bandits with his twin swords than that one drunk fool waving a massive sword around. That was just asking to leave with missing body parts and he didn't feel much like begging a healer to reattach an ear. He wasn't even going to think about the "or worse" part. With a resigned sigh, he aimed and let loose an arrow that hit the drunk bandit right in the face. At least it shut the drunken yelling up. His sensitive ears couldn't take much more of that.

"Oh shit the chief!"

"Who's there?!"

"There! Up on the ledge!"

Really? The drunk moron killing his own people was the chief? It was so absurd that Nevano could feel a headache threatening to rise up. Of all the stupid…

Four bandits came charging up to him, one hanging back and pulling out a bow. Quickly Nevano fired off an arrow at her, not really aiming and hoping that it would at least distract her long enough for him to deal with the other three. He dropped Bonebiter and scooped up the twin swords, who immediately lit up at his mental command. Of the three charging in, two immediately quailed at the sight of the swords at their full fury, but the third never even slowed his charge, swinging a great axe. The bandit was sloppy. Truefire sliced his gut open and left him on the ground desperately trying to shove his own intestines back in his ruined belly before he finally bled out.. The other two looked at each other and then charged in at the same time, trying to flank the mer. One bandit had simple hide armor on, if it could be called armor, and wielded a hand axe. The other was in slightly sturdier armor and carried a shield in addition to his sword. In other words, nothing to weigh them down, making them fast and dangerous.

Truefire struck against the wooden hide-covered shield. The shield was made of weathered wood and the hide was well cured and hardened to an almost shell-like quality. None of that mattered against Truefire's powerful flame enchantment. The shield erupted in flames, causing the bandit to cry out and throw it down. He didn't pay attention to where he was throwing it though and threw it against a bale of hay. The dried grass instantly erupted in flames, catching the unfortunate bandit's clothing on fire as well. Nevano wrinkled his nose as the smell of burning flesh accompanied the screams of burning bandit.

Hopesflame hooked under the head of the hand axe coming in on his left. With a twist of his wrist, the axe flew out of the bandit's hand and across the cavern. Nevano was just about to bring Truefire around when a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. The archer had recovered and was aiming at him, arrow pulled back to her cheek. Instead of ducking for cover and leaving the bandit in front of him free to arm himself again, Nevano dove for him, wrapping an arm around his neck and swinging him around just in time to take an arrow to the chest. Now that was taking care of two birds with one stone! Not to mention the look on the archer's face when she realized she had just killed her fellow thief was priceless.

Taking advantage of the moment, Nevano quickly scooped up Bonebiter and knocked an arrow. The bandit archer was scrambling for an arrow but she was shaken. Her hands were shaking too much to grab the arrow and knock it. By the time she managed to grab one, her chest was completely caved in by the powerful chitin bow.

Nevano let out a sigh of relief as the cavern went silent, save for the crackling of fire. He rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen his stiff left shoulder. It was being stubborn as of late, especially in this colder climate. Sadly there wasn't much he could do about it. Slowly he looked around, pretty certain he would find the missing courier in here.

Sure enough, in one of the cages Nevano found the messanger, "Poor fetcher…" he murmured as he picked the lock. Judging by the wounds he had fought for his life against the wolf that lay dead in the cage next to him, also covered in grievous wounds. No one deserved a death like this, not even the poor wolf. Strangely enough, his delivery was in the cage with him, still partially wrapped. That was more than a little odd. No doubt the whole reason the courier was even IN this cage was because of the package he carried but the bandits showed little interest. Strange…he didn't get the feeling that these bandits were the kind to kidnap people purely for bloodsport. He swung the gate open and reached for the package

'DON'T!'

Nevano fell back, clutching at his head. "Dammit Nerevar!" he growled. He hadn't heard from that fetcher in a while though he was pretty certain he had been interfering quite a bit lately. Not that he was ungrateful, especially for the assistance in Dustman's Cairn, but by Azura the mer needed a bell or something. A warning growl echoed from the recesses of his mind. "Alright, alright. No touching. I get it." Nevano pulled out Truefire and flipped the cloth over with the point of the blade.

There, illuminated by flickering firelight, was the last thing Nevano ever expected to see: the Dwemer made blade Keening, one of the legendary tools of Kagrenac. Again Nevano fell back, his chest tightening. He felt sick. No…there was no way. Keening…he had hidden Keening away! The mer felt a cold sweat break out on his body, a roaring, rushing noise filled his ears. He never wanted that damn weapon to be used ever again and he had made certain that it would stay hidden and unusable…no no no this wasn't right!

His chest was tightening more, making it hard to breath. He grabbed at his chest as pain exploded from a small point by his heart. He clawed at the ground with his other hand. Nevano had a fairly high pain tolerance but this was pain even he couldn't manage. Just like last time it pulsed through him in waves, the agony increasing with each new pulse. His vision blurred in a white-hot agony. He might have screamed, he didn't know. His world had coalesced into this burning agonizing hell.

Finally, mercifully, the blackness rose up to claim him and he willingly allowed himself to be swallowed by it.

XxXxXx

A/N: I didn't get much written on my trip so I made a nice long chapter by way of apology, especially since I made y'all wait so long. I got a LOT of follows and favs while I was gone, thank you so much!

*Note* - After reviewing my personal notes and comparing to what I posted, I realized I completely screwed up my dates. I have gone back in and fixed them a bit but from now on, I got my dates will be far more accurate. I realize that in-game you can cross the continent in 2 days but I prefer to be a bit more realistic. Nevano is a DUNMER crossing through SNOW. He ain't going very fast...I don't blame him.