Aryon smiled regally and nodded his assent as a wave of excited conversation rippled over the arena.

Winterbell turned and strode out by the same door she had arrived, finding her little cell and collapsing into a chair. She slugged back a couple potions and divested herself of the various staffs with some relief. She had instructed Gaydar to inform the rest of the Guild that she would not be taking up any duties as Archmage until she was also Archmagister, as a sign of her good intentions.

There was no point in hanging around, so Winterbell recalled back to her house in Balmora, leaving it to everyone else to clean up the mess. When she arrived back there was a note of congratulations from Baladas and she wondered how he'd found out so fast – he certainly hadn't been in the audience.

Winterbell tried to nap, but afternoon sunlight was streaming in her window, and for the first time she felt less than secure in her little town house. She was tempted to retreat to her Telvanni Tower, which she had yet to visit, and once again cursed the planner who had assigned her land in the middle of nowhere. She had a shrewd idea that Gotheren had a hand in the inconvenient location.

The knowledge that Eddie could reappear in her house at any time was not exactly conductive to relaxation either, and Winterbell gathered an armload of goods and went out to sell them, for a hugely reduced price. Her house was now starting to look decidedly empty; she hadn't had time to go collecting ingredients in quite a while, and the majority of her eclectic collection had been sold.

"I suppose it would be rather undignified for an Archmage to continue living here," Winterbell muttered, and started throwing everything she didn't need out. She took one last look at the Dwemmer books and carefully packaged them up, with the intention of eventually presenting them to Baladas, since he was still the only one who could read them.

Early the next morning Eddie returned while Winterbell was mid-breakfast. She handed him a kwana egg as he produced the spoils of his travels, including quite an impressive amount of gold. She gave him only a couple hours to recover, before traveling to Sadrith Mora, her sights firmly set on Nelos's tower.

Winterbell wandered in the front doors alone, and spoke to no one as she levitated the central hole that the tower was constructed around. It was possible to levitate outside and enter via one of the aerial doors, but Winterbell wanted Nelos to know she was coming.

In a scene reminiscent of the one in the Vivec Mage's Guild only a day earlier, Nelos had his best subordinates paying very close attention as Winterbell floated up and landed lightly before him.

"Congratulations, Archmage," he said sarcastically. "I'm so pleased you've found a position that so suits your lack of ability."
Winterbell smiled faintly, although she wasn't looking quite at Nelos, but at the wall behind him.
"Master Nelos, I have little desire to kill you; finding a replacement will be tiresome, so I will give you one last chance."
"We've had this conversation before," Nelos said dismissively. "Either fight or don't, but I will not be bluffed."
"I'm not bluffing, and I think it might be time to prove it. Do you know who the commander of the watch is in Ald'rhun? Probably not, but it matters little. If you ask Master Demnivanni he will tell you that this man believes that Edwinna Elbert was killed by something like this." Winterbell held up her hand, and between her fingers was an ebony dart, a cylinder of ominous grey with a needlelike tip. Nelos frowned slightly as he eyed the tiny weapon in Winterbell's grasp.
"Nelos, why don't you try thinking for yourself occasionally? How could I, an outlander and a mage, be standing before you in circumstances like these if I hadn't had a certain amount of help?"
"Just what are you implying?"
Winterbell smiled, "That if I don't get your vote my friend will drill a hole in your neck."

Behind Nelos materialized a figure, dressed head to toe in Dark Brotherhood armor; a dart identical to the one in Winterbell's hand held against Nelos's neck. The guards stiffened and groped for their weapons, but Nelos held up his hand, stilling them. The end of the dart just brushed his skin.

"You- you're Dark Brotherhood?" his voice went up a couple octaves.
"I am many things," Winterbell said. "Now, I'm only going to ask you this once more; do I have your vote?"

Winterbell waited in stony silence while Nelos made up his mind. The assassin waited too, not moving a muscle. One of the guards made a move towards Winterbell, but she stilled him with a glare.
"Wait for your orders," she hissed.
Eventually Nelos's shoulders sagged in defeat. "Yes, Winterbell, you have my vote. But if you think I'm going to let you walk all over the Council-" He might have sounded more impressive if he hadn't flinched when the silent assassin moved back.
"You do as you see fit," Winterbell said, and with a nod at the dark figure she stepped backwards and made a swift exit as the assassin swallowed a potion and vanished.

Winterbell was on the boat to Tel Aruhn, pulling out of Sadrith Mora harbor when Eddie reappeared and tore off the Dark Brotherhood helm.
"I can't believe that worked," he said, struggling out of the rest of the armour, which was more than a bit too small for him. "Oh, my feet hurt."
"You did well," Winterbell said, carefully measuring out her praise.
"Don't ask me to do anything like that ever again," he pleaded, gulping down sujamma. "I didn't have any poison."
"Well of course not. If I'd sent you to Mournhold for poison as well as darts you would have gotten some – in your neck."
"But if you sent me to Mournhold so I could pretend to be Dark Brotherhood," Eddie frowned, "that means you didn't kill Edwinna. So who did?"
"The Dark Brotherhood, of course," Winterbell replied promptly.
"But why?"
Winterbell shrugged and Eddie lapsed into silence for a while.
"So you're going to kill Gotheren now?" Winterbell looked mildly irritated as Eddie restarted the conversation.
"I'm going to try. But don't worry, I won't need your help – I can't ask for help. That is the way these things work."
"And if you die?"
"I dare say Aryon will find you something to do. You have proved both loyal and useful, in a way," Winterbell said grudgingly, less than interested. "Now be quiet, I have to prepare."

Winterbell still carried the Staff of Magus, although she'd left the other two at home. She was wearing some of her most powerful enchantments, but even so she felt rather apprehensive. There had to be a reason why Gotheren had all of the other councillors, bar Baladas, intimidated.

Winterbell arrived at Tel Aruhn and told Eddie to remain on the boat. If she did fail she didn't know what would happen to her Mouth, and until she'd come along Eddie had been all but exiled from Telvanni.

Tel Aruhn was a slaving port, a tower, and little else. And it seemed people knew she was coming, as the streets were rather empty. When Telvanni mages fight the collateral damage could sometimes be considerable.

There were people stationed inside the tower, but no one challenged her, and the guard was most polite. There was always a chance that the challenger would win, after all.

Gotheren did not have any subordinates around him. He resided in solitary splendor on his own floor. What he did have, however, were a couple of dremora flanking him, their faces impassive and incapable of expression.

Gotheren heard her out with a kind of studied politeness and when she'd finished he nodded regally and said he'd think about stepping down. Winterbell was stunned into speechlessness for a few seconds, and wondered if all her preparations had been for nothing.
"How long will you need to think?" she asked.
"A few days," he said with a shrug. Winterbell narrowed her eyes as he apparently decided the audience was over.
"Why can't you decide now?"
"I need a few days to think."

Winterbell frowned and wandered back out onto the stairs. Gotheren was apparently not going to fight her, but she had to admit he wasn't likely to step down either. He was so irritating. He wanted her to make the first move, she realized, and that once she had there would be no mercy from the Telvanni leader.
"So that's the way it's going to be," she said, and began to cast her enchantments.

She decided her best bet was to ignore the dremora, as Gotheren was by far the most dangerous of the three. If she took a few hits, then so be it; she had Trebonius's amulet constantly leeching healing magic through her body, a feeling that was as disconcerting as it was reassuring.

She didn't give any warning, instead turning and flinging her most powerful frost spell into the room. All three staggered back, and the two dremora pulled their weapons and broke into a run. No guards came to interfere, even as Gotheren raised his voice to cast a spell. Winterbell frowned, trying to recognize the words.

She found out what the spell was soon enough, it tore through her magical defenses and she found herself paralyzed as a searing mixture of magic ripped into her. As the spell wore off the dremora attacked and Winterbell stumbled forward, twitching and bleeding, but still casting. Her magic had done Gotheren some damage, and his hands were frostbitten as he raised them again.

This time Winterbell resisted the spell, as a dremora drove its spiked club into her back. Winterbell ignored it. She kept coming forward towards Gotheren, casting as fast as she possibly could, even as she felt blood running down her shredded back. The wall hangings were encrusted with frost, and their feet crunched on frozen carpet.

Winterbell expected to be attacked from behind again, but to her surprise one of the dremora groaned and fell dead at her feet. Winterbell didn't dare look behind her, but this piece of good fortune was enough to hearten her. She pressed forward the attack, even as she heard lightning crackle from somewhere behind her.

Gotheren was failing, even as lightning arced over Winterbell's shoulder to attack the Archmagister. He wasn't even looking at her any longer, his gazed fixed instead on someone behind her.
"Baladas!" he snarled raising his hands.
"I am your opponent," Winterbell growled, interrupting his casting by swinging the staff.

Lighting arced and Winterbell cast, and even then, Gotheren did not look at her. Even as he fell to his knees and then to the floor. Winterbell bared her teeth in frustration and kicked him, but he was already dead.

"You!" She whirled around and stabbed at the air with an accusing finger, even as she staggered, dizzy from loss of blood.Baladas held up his hands, "I did nothing. I swear to you. I just returned your rightful property." He indicated the shock centurion, who was sporting some charring around its electric claw and some deep gouges in its metalwork. Winterbell sat gingerly in Gotheren's chair, feeling Trebonius's amulet start putting her back together.
"So you weren't casting the lighting, the centurion was," she said wearily.
"I'm not allowed to help," he said, with a measure of smugness.
"So you just returned my property, right, right. How very clever of you," Winterbell said sourly.
"You'd be dead if I hadn't."
"He didn't even look at me," Winterbell glared at Gotheren's remains.
"He knew all along that I was the one who wanted him dead, and that I was working through you. Don't worry you're the one with the title now, Archmagister."
"I thought you said you weren't going to come and gloat," Winterbell said with a faintly accusing tone.
Baladas shrugged, "I was wrong, wasn't I? Anyway, the point is, the old bastard is dead," he grinned, "And you're in charge. So, what are you going to do now, friend Winterbell?"
"I'm going to make a new base," she said, "somewhere much nicer and more central than Uvirith's Grave."
Baladas narrowed his eyes knowingly, "Got any ideas?" he asked.
Winterbell smiled, "As a matter of fact I do. Lovely little place. I think I'll call it Tel Balmora."