It's good that I have a forum to go to in order to have this story as straightened up as possible before posting. And it's good for you guys that xTRESTWHOx is there to ensure the quality of this story is top-notch.
Upon leaving Ivarstead, it quickly became very apparent that Maurice, while a traveler, was not a fighter. Or even a good lookout for that matter. Every other member of their traveling party had superior senses. Blake had excellent vision, especially at night, and great hearing thanks to her array of ears. Weiss's sense of smell was extremely acute, more so when blood was involved, which most predators carried the scent of to some degree. And all of the Khajiits were good at each sense, and unlike Weiss had them their whole lives. Maurice, on the other hand, had almost walked into a bear trap one time. Luckily, they were able to keep him alive.
Nevertheless, they were able to keep their party in one piece. Continuing northward through Eastmarch, they encountered a few scattered wildlife, but outside of wolves and a sabercat nothing of note hit them during the day. As dusk neared, however, they heard a dragon in the distance. Everyone but Maurice had halted in their steps, but Blake had caught him by the shoulder. To their east, at a place called Northwind Mountain on the map, a dragon was circling around its summit. It made three circles and roared again before seeming to land, disappearing from most of their views. Blake and the Khajiits could just barely see it roosting atop a large wall of stone. If they had been noticed, the dragon seemed content to leave them be.
"…Gods that scared me half to death," Weiss complained. Blake couldn't help but note the irony in that, but felt a little bad about it.
"Dragons are becoming a bit too common a sight, this one thinks," Jo'nir voiced. "Perhaps we should move on before the dragon decides to find a bedtime snack."
"Right..." Weiss quickly agreed, pulling out the map. "There's a fortress ahead called Mistwatch. I'd rather not go in there in case of bandits or other such miscreants taking over. But, with a dragon nearby, I'd like to have a fortress between us and it."
The others agreed to that sentiment and pushed on, stopping to camp near the bridge that continued the road, the four towers of Mistwatch just between them and Northwind. A watch was set, but nothing bothered them throughout the night, thankfully. They began again the next morning, heading straight north and off of the road. The sanctuary wasn't much further, and they reached it well before noon. The girls were a little dubious about going into a cavern, but decided that they had to in the end, and went in first to make sure everything was safe. Past a few turns, they emerged into a grove, streams flowing through, birds singing as they fluttered about the trees, and a beautiful, pink and red leafed tree sitting above the rest, directly under a skylight with sunshine pouring down upon it. The group stopped in awe for a moment as they took in the scenery.
"The Eldergleam," Maurice admired. "It's as beautiful as I had imagined."
Weiss and Blake nodded to one another, both in agreement with Maurice and in understanding of their purpose here, and moved up ahead. Maurice and the Khajiits went to speak with a Nord man and woman who seemed to be visiting as well. While the others became preoccupied with conversation, the two huntresses looked for a way up to the tree, but couldn't find a straight path. Blake attempted to leap over a root in the way, only for a smaller one to smack her back. The faunus landed with an 'ooph', and Weiss looked down at her with concern.
"Well… Feistiest plant I've had to deal with since those chilies," Blake joked as she stood up and dusted herself off.
"Well how are we supposed to get the sap?" Weiss placed her hands on her hips in annoyance.
Blake took the dagger from her side and unsheathed it. She glared at the evil looking dagger before wielding it and trying to tap the root itself. The root suddenly shot away, like an arm being pricked. The creaking of wood echoed and Blake looked to the dagger.
"Well, guess we know how to get to it."
"This…doesn't feel good," Weiss admitted. "I'm getting a bad vibe all of the sudden from this place where it used to feel so…calming."
"She doesn't trust in your mission."
'Shut up!'
"We're just going to tap it for a little sap. Trees have it happen all the time. I'm sure the oldest tree in the world can take it."
A few more roots lay across their pathway, but a single prick of the Nettlebane sent them reeling out of the way. The two soon stood just across from the Eldergleam, but they both could feel the dark aura in the air clearly now. Blake gulped and looked at the dagger again.
"It'll be fine," she reasoned. "The tree just thinks we're out to hurt it. Everything will go back when we leave."
She started walking forward when a voice stopped her.
"I had no idea you were such violent women!" The two turned to see Maurice standing just behind them, and expression of rage written across the normally tranquil man's face. "Just what are you trying to do here, hurting the Eldergleam's roots like this?"
"Look, Danica asked us to gather sap from the Eldergleam in order to heal the Gildergeen," Blake explained.
"You would… would… Violate this marvel of Kynareth's glory for that half-breed…stump in Whiterun!?" Blake was shocked by his words. "Abominable! Barbaric! Why didn't you say something about this?"
"He's getting in your way," the voice whispered.
"We… I didn't think it was that big of a deal," Blake admitted. "I was just trying to help the temple. I didn't want to hurt the tree. But, without the Gildergreen to bring pilgrims around to Whiterun, what can the temple do? What would you do?"
"What would I do?" His expression calmed some and he sighed. "What would I do? I certainly…wouldn't go to these lengths, but…" He looked over at the ancient tree. "I do have an idea. Wait for a moment."
The man walked over to the Eldergleam and kneeled before it, holding his arms out as if to accept an offering. Blake and Weiss watched as they felt the dark tension in the air slowly evaporate, until the previous serenity that once filled the place returned once again. In front of the tree, a sprout emerged from the ground and grew rapidly, branches splitting from the tiny trunk, and leaves forming at their ends. The two girls watched in awe as this miracle happened right before their eyes. The tiny sapling's roots seemed to pull themselves from the earth and wrapped about a chunk of dirt beneath it. Maurice took a cloth from his own pack and tied it around the roots of the new tree, and lifted it up above him as he revered it.
"The Eldergleam has blessed us with a sapling," he announced with his returned tranquility. He gingerly handed the newborn tree to Weiss, who looked it over curiously and carefully. "Have it taken to Whiterun. Danica should see that the true blessings of nature lie in renewal, not a slavish maintenance."
"Thank you," Blake uttered, still in awe of what just occurred. "This is…better than I'd hoped."
"You are very welcome, friend. Please, try to keep your mind open always for the less violent approach to such problems." He looked back to the Eldergleam, a serene smile on his face. "Please, feel no need to wait for me. I believe I'll stay here and bask in Eldergleam's warmth a while longer. Good luck on your travels. May Kynareth's winds only carry the sweetest scents."
Blake nodded, and looked once again at the Nettlebane in her hand. She took a few steps over to the Eldergleam and held the wicked looking blade across her palms as she considered what she'd nearly done.
"I'm…really sorry," she offered, not knowing if the tree could understand her or not. She bent down and laid the dagger before the trunk. "Hopefully, no one will ever harm you again."
A single root came up from the ground and dragged the dagger below, amazing Blake once again. The sounds of creaking wood echoed out once more, but this time when Blake looked back, she saw that the roots had rearranged themselves. Now, rather than looking like they'd been scared away from the path, the roots lined themselves with it, showing an inviting picture, as though the tree welcomed visitors with its boughs. She felt a light smile crawl across her face.
"K-khajiit will make sure the priestess receives the sapling," M'thri stuttered out as Blake handed the little tree over to him.
'Oh god, Weiss was right! Still, kinda adorable, in a sort of kitten with a favorite kind of way.'
"I trust you. You're all sure you'll be fine?"
"The road is always easier on the second trek," Jo'nir explained. "We'll be back at the camp at Whiterun before you reach the gates of Windhelm. Of course, we may leave soon after. Up to Solitude this time. Jo'nir will see to it that word is given to other caravans about you and your friends. For such a small favor as a ride, you have shown our families much kindness."
"Thank you so much," Weiss said as she began reaching over, but stopped herself when she realized that she'd almost pet a person. She pulled back and began stammering an apology, but Jo'nir simply turned his head.
"Behind the left ear if you must."
"Father, don't solicit the young man girls," S'dir scolded the smaller Khajiit. "Please, forgive him, girls. He's losing his inhibitions in his old age."
"Forty-four is hardly old," Jo'nir argued with a nip at his son's paw.
"May as well be to me, old cat," he teased back with a pat at his father's head. The two began pawing back and forth in a mock-up of clawing at each other, and M'thri sighed in exasperation.
"This one is so sorry about this."
"It… It's fine," Blake got out while trying to holding back her laughter. Weiss just watched on with joviality.
The monochrome Huntresses continued on their journey soon after entrusting the sapling to the family, heading north along the nearby river rather than going back to the road, figuring they could cross at a small place marked as Mixwater. Weiss noted that they were almost there when a small trip sent her careening down a canyon.
"Weiss!" Blake yelled as she looked over.
"I'm fine," the heiress said as she straightened up her cloak. "It's steep, but not…" She paused when she noticed just across from her was an old stone building. The location was a strange one, and so she checked the map to see if it was labelled.
"Not here…" she muttered in interest. Blake slid down next to her, kicking several stones and dirt into the river below.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I'm fine. Of interest though, that old building there isn't on the map."
"Well, it looks like it's been abandoned," Blake admitted.
"Which means that there could be things of value left inside. We should check it out!"
"Weiss, seriously? I don't think…" The heiress hopped over the canyon and onto the ledge in front of the old, nearly rotted wooden door. Blake sighed and jumped after her. "We'll go in, look for your loot, and leave."
"It's not looting. It's salvaging," Weiss argued as she entered.
"And if someone still lives here, it's robbery," Blake muttered under her breath.
Within they could hear the sounds of running and dripping water. Weiss immediately began searching every nook and cranny for septims or small things of value. Blake went down the stairs and glanced around, noticing a battleaxe sticking out of a chest too small to hold it in a mostly flooded room that was likely draining from somewhere seeing as water still poured in from a hole in the wall.
"I don't like this," Blake complained. "The whole place looks like it could collapse at any time."
"Oh, get a hold of yourself. We've been in older structures that stayed together. Come on, let's see about below."
Blake groaned and followed the vampire down the stairs into a room with a table pushed against a wall and a set of elk antlers mounted above it. There was an old, dirty plate set atop it, probably meaning that someone had to leave their meal behind. To the left was a storeroom, where Weiss picked up a bag of coins with a glint in her eye, but also happened to notice an old piece of paper. She looked at it from where she was, not wanting to risk it falling apart from age by picking it up.
"'We can't let the prisoners out, so either kill them or let them drown'," she read aloud before sneering. "Barbarians. 'Either way, all guards must evacuate as soon as possible. The storm is about to wash this whole fort into the river, and I'll be damned if I have to report one Legion death while under my watch. You have your orders!' What a horrid response to disaster! Leaving people to drown!"
"It could have been a prison solely for the worst criminals. But I do agree. That's just cruel."
"Well, any compunctions I had with taking everything of value here is gone."
"Wait, you had a compunction about it?"
"Oh hush," Weiss playfully responded.
The next room down held some armor pieces, a few weapons, and ingots of iron. One of the hallways connected to it had collapsed, but there was still a way downstairs even further. Here the girls could see a few prison cells, as well as a skeleton with rotted, rusty armor lying next to a rusty, old sword and rotten shield. Weiss didn't feel any sympathy for whoever it had been, and Blake only stopped long enough to look at another piece of paper beneath one of its bony hands. The paper hadn't aged well, but the writing on it was only slightly smudged.
"'The storm is coming, I can tell'," she read aloud. "'The water leaking in has become stronger. There's no better time than now.
"'When the storm hits, the guards will be scrambling to figure out what to do with us. Amidst the confusion we need to overpower the few that will be standing guard outside our cells and hold off the cell block entrance. We need only hold off until I can get one of their swords and break open the drainage gate in the corner of my cell. That's where we'll make our escape. Everyone move down river and we'll try to find shelter there until the storm passes.'"
"So the warden planned to murder them all while the prisoners planned an escape?" Weiss deduced. "Sounds like one of those thrillers Yang would love to watch. Hm, but the intrigue behind it would make for a good story. I… What is that?"
Weiss suddenly pointed over to a glowing form that had risen from the floor. It bore a human shape, but was translucent and seemed weightless. The figure pulled a weapon made of the same substance as it and began running at them, passing straight through the bars of the cell it was within.
"You're not welcome here!" it shouted in an echoing tone while swinging for them. Weiss pulled out her rapier and parried the strike, and Blake made to stab at it, only for her weapon to pass through it harmlessly.
"Wh- what!?"
"Fools! The living should not be among the dead!"
"It's a ghost!" Weiss cried out as she blocked another strike from its mace.
"What do we do?!"
Weiss's response was to suddenly grab at the ghost as her hand funneled electrical magic through it. The electricity managed to actually affect the ghost, and it lost its cohesion with a cry, melting into a puddle on the floor.
"Right, I recall now. Silver, daedric, or magic. That includes enchanted weaponry. Unfortunately, all I have is a dagger." She pulled out a steel dagger and handed it over to Blake. "Careful, it's frost enchanted."
"So..." Blake paused to look at the pool of what she could only describe as ectoplasm, "this will hurt them?"
"The enchantment more than the weapon. Essentially, it's like you're stabbing them with an icicle."
"Good to know. I think I hear another one."
A ghost appeared from the opposite side of the cell block and pulled out a hammer. "There are living here!" it shouted. Weiss aimed Myrtenaster at the ghost and channeled her lightning spell through it. A bolt of electric magic slammed into the ghost and caused it to practically explode.
"Death…"
"So, these ghosts seem to be…bitter." A glance around let the two see that the cells were mostly filled with skeletons. "I can imagine why."
"But why are there ghosts in the first place?"
"I have no idea. The research into the causation of ghosts varies, but the basis of it is that sometimes souls feel unfulfilled and either end up staying behind, or imprinting their emotions onto the world, causing magicka to congeal around them into ectoplasm. Wish I had a jar with me. This stuff isn't exactly easy to find, and that makes it rare and expensive."
"You're still on with getting money out of this?"
"Well, at worst we just hurt some things that are already dead. At best we're freeing them from their chains to this world and releasing them into the afterlife. Or these ghosts have no souls at all and are just the impressions of hatred left behind."
Weiss walked over to a table at the end of the block and plucked a key from its surface. Looking into the cells, she found one with a broken wall and opened it up, leading to a conjoining cell block where another ghost resided. It charged her, only to be met halfway with a fireball.
"I will return!" it yelled as it melted.
"Sure, whatever."
She and Blake traveled up the stair from this room, discovering that it was the section closed off from the collapsed hallway, as well as it being the guards' sleeping barracks with another storage room, this one seemingly more dedicated to books. Luckily, the room had remained dry and the book were in rather good condition.
"Biography of Barenziah," Blake read the title as she picked up and packed away a book before grabbing and packing another. "The Real Barenziah. The Adabala-a. Journey of the Heroes. Song of Hromir. Huh, The Champion's Pinning. Looks like a side-story to Journey of the Heroes."
"Didn't expect to find a library in here. Suppose doing naught but guarding prisoners can get boring." Weiss went over to a chest and used the key to unlock it, finding herself giddy at the number of scattered coins of nearly every type. After looting the rooms for all they were worth, the two headed back and found the drain in the corner cell. Weiss was the first to look down, and for the first time seemed hesitant in continuing. Blake followed her in and she both peered down to see a couple of small skeevers looking around at the bottom before seeing them and running.
"Uh, after you," Weiss indicated. Blake sighed and hopped down into the drain and ducked into it. It was short, and emerged into what seemed to be another hall, though she had to push a skeleton out of the way at the end of the drain. Weiss came in right behind her and yelped when she accidentally stepped on and crunched the skull.
At a left turn the girls found themselves at a flodded room with a rickety ladder at the end. Deciding to risk it, Blake climbed up the ladder and came up to the sound of rushing water. Weiss followed her and the two could see that they were under a bridge just before a waterfall.
"Well, bridge means path," Blake reasoned. "At least we're on the right track."
"And we're now two-hundred and thirty nine septims and sixteen cents richer than before," Weiss happily pointed out.
"That many?" Blake asked with a raised eyebrow.
"There was a denar and several malks. Of course I'm not carrying almost three hundred gold coins."
The heiress and faunus began walking along the edge of the water, hoping to find a place to climb up onto the bridge. Blake began finding some handholds, but when she was ready to pull herself over, an elf in black and red suddenly leapt at her from above with a green dagger. Blake immediately called up her Aura defense and caught the Dunmer's wrist, but was pushed over the edge with him and into the water.
"Blake!" she heard Weiss scream before she went under. The faunus struggled against the Dunmer as he tried to somehow stab her while they wrestled with each other and the current. Blake felt the river suddenly change direction, and expected the worst before she and her assailant were tossed out of the water and onto a stone ledge at the far side of the falls. She was able to pull in a breath, but then the attacker was at her again, almost desperately trying to drive his dagger into her. Blake fought against him and tried to push him off, but when he rolled off of her he dragged her along, and rather than reverse their positions, they rolled right off the ledge.
The dark elf shouted, and Blake kicked him away from her, knocking them both in opposite directions. She was certain that she saw her life flash before her eyes, and then watched as the Dunmer hit a stone with a muffled splatting noise while she hit water. Her breath was knocked out of her for a long moment, but she began regain her sense and tried to swim upwards. Suddenly, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her and drag her up and out of the river, pulling her up the shore and away from the water. She started coughing and hacking, and looked up at her savior to see a scantily clad, violet-skinned woman. Weiss was hopping down from above on self-made platform glyphs until she hit the ground and ran over to Blake, the Sanguine Rose in her left hand.
"Blake! Are you all right? Are you hurt? Where does it hurt?" She frantically asked while checking over her teammate.
"I'm fine. Weiss-" a few coughs interrupted her and she cleared her throat. "I'm fine. Just wet and cold. Way better than the other guy."
They looked and saw the corpse of her attacker, bleeding on the stone he landed on and into the river.
"Mazken, thank you for rescuing my fried. Could you please retrieve the corpse over there, and try not to get it too wet."
"Will be done." The summoned daedra turned and dived into the river before swimming up against the current as though it was no obstacle. Blake stood up and shivered in the cold air.
"We'll get you warmed up, even if we have to burn down… Wait, I think that's Mixwater right up there." Weiss indicated a mill just down the river from them. "Well, we can warm you up there. First, let's-"
The body landed on the ground next to them with a thud, and the two turned to see that the Mazken was still at the spot where he died, apparently having thrown him all the way to where they were several meters down and across the river.
"Right. Let's search him, and see if we can find what that was all about." Weiss began opening pockets and pouches and searching them. Several vials labeled as poison were found, as well as two extra daggers of differing materials. Blake pulled a piece of paper from a thankfully watertight pocket and unfolded it.
"'As you were instructed, you are to eliminate the targets, Blake Belladonna and Weiss Schnee, by any means necessary.'" Blake blinked and looked at her teammate, both of them feeling a substantial amount of dread.
"Wh- What?! Why?!"
Blake looked it over and over, but came up empty. "It doesn't say. Just gives…frighteningly good descriptions of us, and it's signed by someone named Astrid, from the Dark Brotherhood."
"Oh… Oh Brothers, you don't think…this has to do with Ruby? What if… What if they sent people after her and Yang? Yang's all on her own!"
"Weiss calm down!"
"Calm?! How can we be calm about this?!"
"Look," Blake began as she looked to the Mazken, who had just returned. "We need you to pass on a message to Sanguine."
"Do I look like a messenger to you?" the daedra patronized as she crossed her arms. Weiss jumped to her feet at that with her eyes glowing yellow.
"You! Are whatever! I! Order!" she yelled as she hefted the Sanguine Rose. "If I demand you to be a pile of dung to spy on the stable boy then that is what you'll do!" At this, the Mazken looked totally in fear of Weiss. "Now, you will tell Sanguine that our friends are possibly in danger and that we need him to warn them as soon as possible that the Dark Brotherhood is after us, or I'll summon you for that very purpose! Understand?!"
"A- At once, ma'am!" And then the daedra disappeared into a swirl of Oblivion energies. Weiss's eyes lost their shine, and she sighed while gripping her forehead.
"This is disastrous. Why is this happening?"
"I don't know," Blake admitted. "But we'll get through it. They can't send assassins after us forever."
'How the heck am I supposed to find a woman who's been missing for a year?' Yang thought as she combed through the forest for the third night in a row. She only needed one more bear for Temba, and that would be it, but on the side she had run into Narfi, a poor man living in the most run-down house in Ivarstead. He was clinically insane just going by how he spoke, but Skyrim, and perhaps Tamriel at large, didn't really have much in the way of mental institutions to take care of people like that.
"With father I said goodbye… With mother I said goodbye. Reyda leaves and Narfi can't say goodbye."
Just the memory of the pure sadness in his voice nearly brought a tear to Yang's eye. She wanted to help him, gods know she did. She could only compare it to the time when Summer disappeared, and she wanted nothing more than for her to come home. And when that didn't seem possible any more, she tried finding her birth mother. She never stopped looking, but she no longer searched for the same reasons as she did before. After a while, it was less about completing her family, and more about just getting closure. And closure seemed to be exactly what Narfi wanted, even though he was sure his sister was still alive. Wilhelm, though, was convinced she had died, and the only advice he could give was to search around the small islands to the east, where she used to pick plants for alchemy. Yang had already looked there, and found nothing of note. She would've tried using clairvoyance, if only she really knew what she was looking for.
'I just don't know what to do for the poor guy,' she thought forlornly.
A sweet scent hit her nose and Yang looked upwards and saw a cave just a little ways away, a broken beehive sitting near it. Two of the bears she had found had similar evidence to their presence, so she figured she was close to finding another. She was ready to be done with this request and get back to Ivarstead with one, final bear corpse. As she approached it though, she heard a more human sound. It sounded almost like a man groaning in pain. As she came closer and angled up, she could see by the light of Masser that there was a man sitting at the mouth of the cave, wearing clothes so ragged that they made Narfi's rag look pristine. He was clutching his stomach and kept doubling over while groaning, obviously in a great amount of pain. Yang wondered if it was hunger or something bad he ate as she approached, keeping in mind the supplies she had with herself.
"Hey!" she called out, catching his attention. Fear was sparking in his eyes, but Yang held out her hands pacifyingly.
"Easy, easy," she whispered. "Are you okay? You need help?"
"Gods…" he muttered. "No, no! You can't- You have to run! Run!" He stumbled up to his feet and began looking around before going into the cave.
"Hey! Hold on! Let me help you!" Yang started chasing after him, but paused to let her eyes adjust to the darkness of the cave. She tried recalling the candlelight spell, and cursed herself for not having practiced it more.
"Get out of here!" the man screamed in fear. "It's…not…safe!"
Giving up on the light spell, Yang just summoned flames above her hand. While not as good for guiding, it was better than nothing. But, before the Huntress could get very deep, she heard the man screaming, followed by something that sounded like crunching bones and squelching flesh.
Terrified of what was happening, Yang rushed deeper into the cave. The man's cries ceased, and the Huntress's boots skidded as she came to a stop. Bloodied, torn rags were scattered about, and standing before her was the biggest bear she'd ever seen. Closer to an Ursa in size and build, this bear stood in a hunched stance as it turned to look at her and growled. There was no sign of the man, but the cloth in the giant bear's claws told Yang enough. Her eyes flickered to red as her fists balled together, and with a cry of rage, she punched forward.
Almost every other bear she faced went down in two or three hits, the toughest thus far taking five before going down, and it had been a superb specimen. Even then, one hit from Yang was enough to send them all reeling. This bear was sent back a step before catching itself and then swinging forward with a roar. Yang blocked, but was sent flying back and out of the cave with a shout. She hit a tree with a yelp and tried to recover, only to see the massive bear charging at her on all fours.
Huntress and bear burst through the tree in a spray of splinters. As the tree fell over, Yang rolled to her feet and tried to get out of the way of another swipe, only to be sent through a thinner tree barely more than a sapling and smack into a third. Yang barely pulled herself out of her daze enough to duck under the incoming claws of the bear, which swiped through the thick trunk behind her like butter. The bear roared again and chomped towards her before clawing at her face. Yang jumped back in a back handspring and readied herself.
"All right, you bastard! Bring it!" she shouted in anger. Her body lit up as her Semblance activated and the bear charged at her again. Yang leapt out of the way as it sped by at the speed of an automobile. As the bear stopped, Yang ran at it and punched out towards its face with a battle cry. The blow connected and sent the bear in a spin, but it recovered and swiped up at her, sending her through the air where she had to adjust for falling to land on her feet. When she came back down the bear was back upon her and smashed downwards. Yang tried to block, but the strength of her foe was far more than its musculature suggested, and it had a lot to begin with. She actually felt herself sink several inches into the ground before she managed to deflect a blow and return it, rewarded with the sound of ribs cracking. Rather than be distracted by pain, the bear simply roared and bit down, catching her head in its jaws.
Yang screamed and tried to pry the bear's mouth from around her skull as it grasped her with its claws and seemed to try to rip her head from her neck. Unable to dislodge its bite, she reared a fist back and felt magicka alight itself at her fist and punched while releasing an explosive fireball. The force of the blow jarred the bear enough to lose her, and Yang punched with another fireball empowered punch. Screaming, Yang summoned all of the arcane energy within her and used it to fuel her next several hits, punching the bear solidly while also burning its hide with fireballs. When her magicka ran out, she continued laying down punishment with just her fists, punching with the maximum amount of strength she could summon until the bear finally fell over. Yang then grasped its muzzle and yanked it around, breaking its neck just to be sure.
With the death of the 'super bear' ensured, Yang began pulling back her Semblance and catching her breath, her eyes fading from red to lavender. After her adrenaline left her system, she let out a shaky breath and leaned against a tree while cradling her head. She recalled the man, and realized that he must have been warning her about that bear, thinking she couldn't handle it. She wasn't sure about his suicidal move, but the fact of the matter was that he was gone. As she went to get the sled she used to drag the other bears back, she made a mental note to ask around and see if anyone knew who he might have been. She'd need to warn them before having the bear skinned.
She dragged the overly large bear into Ivarstead, and the people still about began pointing at her kill and running to get others. She figured killing one of these 'super bears' was a big deal, and she could see why. She, a Huntress-in-training with Aura and enhanced strength, had trouble with it. Temba was one of the villagers to come out and see Yang's newest kill, as well as Yang's disheveled state.
"Got number ten," she quietly cheered to the mill owner. "This one put up a big fight too. What the hell kind of bear is this?"
"Kind of…? Girl, this is a werebear!"
"Werebear? Weird name."
"A werebear's not a bear," Wilhelm interjected as he looked over the creature's singed fur. "It's a man-beast. A child of Hircine."
Yang was utterly lost at that. "Huh?"
"Haven't you ever heard of lycanthropes?" Temba asked. "A werebear is a cursed being, like werewolves and such. It would be a man by day, but then transform within the night, normally during a full moon, into a terrible beast with no mind but to kill. A beast you apparently put down."
Yang's mind seemed to screech to a dead halt and rewound itself.
"A… A man?"
"Aye, this would've been a man earlier in the day," Wilhelm affirmed. "Likely lost his mind when he changed. Werebears pop up from time to time, but this is the first one I've seen this far south in years."
"Oh gods, be sure it didn't scratch you!" Temba warned. "Well, I don't know if scratches will do it, and bites are so-so, but it pays to be safe. Get yourself washed up. Wilhelm, you have some monkshood and wheat germ, right?"
"I'm already on it," the inn keeper said as he headed back to his establishment. "I'll have you a fix-up in just an hour or so, Miss Yang," he called back.
"Fix-up?"
"Just in case. You can make a decent lycanthrope treatment with monkshood, wheat germ, and a sprinkle of silver dust. It'll make you queasy for a few hours, but you won't turn."
"Turn…" She looked back at the corpse and gulped. Her stomach began to churn as her mind began spinning again. "I… I'm going to…"
Temba just patted her on the shoulder and Yang started to stumble forward. Her eyes locked onto the inn as she started trudging towards it, her hands twitching a little. She stopped in her tracks and took in a deep breath before steeling her resolve.
'Slow down,' she reminded herself.
She turned from the inn and headed over to the bridge on the river. She watched the currents flowing by the village as she crossed, and then began walking along the river's bank, listening as her feet crunched sand and silt beneath her. She took in a breath and looked to her hands, focusing magicka into a pale blue light with no real sense of direction. Without a goal in mind, the clairvoyance spell simply twinkled uselessly in her hands. When she exhausted her supply of magicka, she waited and did it again, letting the sight and sound of the spell calm her.
Suddenly, a line of blue leapt from her hands and trailed a little ways away from her. Yang followed the trail with her eyes and spotted what looked like the end of a bone sticking out of the ground. Curious, Yang went over and dug up the bone to find that there was a set of human wrist and finger bones connected. Yang dug through the wet soil with no real goal but unearthing whatever she'd found. Soon she had exhumed a skull, and the top of the spine connected to it. She spied a silver pendant on its neck and decided to pull it out to examine it closer, figuring that this was no consecrated grave she'd discovered.
Yang gently took out the pendant and washed it in the river's water. As she observed it with only the moonlight, she found what seemed to be etching on its face. She angled it in the light and her eyes went wide.
Reyda was the single, solitary word etched upon it in a stylized form. Yang looked back at the skeleton and realized that she'd discovered Narfi's sister's fate.
"Oh god," she muttered as she looked back to the pendant. Tears began to fall freely from her eyes, and then she looked back to the village upriver from her position. Her thoughts spun wildly for a moment, and then, a moment of clarity seemed to flow over her as a stray breeze brought a scent of honey though the air.
"…a terrible beast with no mind but to kill," she recalled.
'He was so scared. He knew what was going to happen. He knew, and he was afraid he'd hurt me.' She looked to her right hand and slowly clenched it, feeling the leather of her glove crease and hearing it squeeze.
'But if I hadn't run into him, he would've been so close to Ivarstead. So close to so many people that couldn't hope to fight him. So many could've died.' She looked back at the skeleton again. 'It's so easy to die here. It's so easy to die…at all. Reyda… I don't even know what happened to her. She could have drowned. She could have been murdered. She could have been killed by a bear, a werebear, or just a large skeever.
'He couldn't…stop himself. I stopped him.' She looked at the pendant once again and clutched it tightly. She pushed the displaced bones into the holed and kicked the soil back over them before heading back towards Ivarstead. She first stopped at Narfi's broken down home and knocked on the wall before walking inside.
"Left. Gone. When will… Oh, hello friend. Did you find her? Is Reyda coming home?"
Yang felt her heart crumble, but put on a smile anyways for the beggar.
"Hey," she started, feeling herself croak up. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I did. I found her." She squatted down and placed the pendant into his hands. The man looked over it with misting eyes and ran a finger over its surface.
"Reyda…"
"You…" she felt her voice nearly crack again. "You need to be strong, for when she comes home." At that, his face lit up. "She said it was going to be a while, probably a long time. But you'll see her again. Until then…you need to take care of yourself. She- Reyda would want to see you doing well, right?"
"She would. She would! Thank you! Thank you friend! You made Narfi very happy! Thank you for finding Reyda! Tell her I'll do it! Narfi will take good care!"
Tears spilled from Yang's eyes for a moment, but the crazed beggar didn't seem to notice. "I will, okay. I'll see you later."
"Thank you friend. Good bye!"
Yang stepped out of the broken down house and sniffled. She looked up at the stars and took in a deep breath before going forward to the inn. When she entered the building, she could smell something bitter coming from a pot boiling over the fire.
"It'll be ready soon," Wilhelm assured her. "Are…you okay? Can I get you anything?"
"I'm fine, yeah," she sniffed with a smile. "I'll…just have some water right now."
Yang awoke the next morning quietly before leaving the inn. Temba was up early to work as usual. Just as Wilhelm had warned, the cure or preventative or whatever didn't sit well with Yang's stomach, but she drank it down all the same. Her muscles ached and her head rang, but it was a small price to pay to not turn into a werebear. She could only imagine the horror of being trapped in one's own body and forced into a savage state against their will. As Yang prepared to leave the small village, the mill owner saw her and gave a light smile.
"Glad to see you up and about. Listen, I think that werebear should count for the request, so I'm going to say you've done your part. Really, you've done far more. Who knows what a werebear could've done to us. Anyways, the Companions have the bulk of your pay, but I've tacked a little something else on." She went over to a table and picked up a war axe. It seemed to be made of a kind of bronze and had a more angular shape to it than most axes she'd seen.
"Is that Dwemer metal?" she asked.
"And Dwemer made. Had a cousin who found it in an old ruin. Apparently he thought I could use it to chop wood. There were several problems with that idea, not the least amongst them is that it's enchanted to set whatever it cuts on fire. And given how fire enchantments seem to work better on Dwemer metal... Anyway, seeing as you're the kind to set things you kill on fire, though, I think it's better in your hands." She handed the axe over to Yang, who held it in her right hand before tossing it between each hand to get a feel for the weight.
"Thanks."
"No problem. Oh, and one of your friends came back from High Hrothgar. She's speaking with the guards at the Foot Bridge."
"One?" Yang immediately headed to the north end of the village. Like Temba said, one of her friends was there. Specifically, Lydia, who was talking to two Rift Guards, their distinctive purple cloth and chainmail standing out. If nothing else, the helmets gave them away as guards. She paused for a moment when she saw a dead body near them, but continued on soon after.
"Hey Lydia."
"Ah, hello Thane Yang. I was about to come and see if you were still here."
"What's…this about?" Yang questioned as she got a good look at the body, a Redguard woman if she had to guess.
"I got word that the Dark Brotherhood have sent assassins. And then I found one. The guards are here to clean up and see if they can't sniff out any more of the murderers."
"Wait, assassins? After who?"
"After you, apparently," one guard said. "Found a note on the corpse. They're after you and a Ruby Rose."
"What?!" Yang shrieked.
"It will be fine," Lydia calmed her. "Trust me. This is one of the main things I've trained for. Are we good here?"
"As good as we can be until Tarl gets that cart."
"Then have a good day, brothers. Talos smile on you." With that, Lydia walked away, Yang right behind her.
"Just what is going on?" the blonde demanded.
"We got a note last night, pinned under a bottle of Argonian Bloodwine. It was from Sanguine. Normally, I'd be wary of notes from Daedric Princes, but it said that he was passing on a message from Weiss and Blake. Why he decided to do so is beyond me, but I am glad he did. Apparently, they were attacked by an assassin yesterday, but managed to fend him off, and they feared you two may be in the same danger. They were right."
"Oh god, this is bad!" Yang muttered as she rubbed her eyes. "Oh, we shouldn't have split up. This is all-"
"Calm down and listen," Lydia said as she grabbed the younger girl's shoulder. "Ruby is in one of the safest places in Skyrim. If Ulfric Stormcloak can Shout an army off walls, then the Greybeards can Shout them into ash and scatter it to the winds with the same breath. I'll also be there, and like I said, I'm trained to handle these things. I'm not one to brag, but Irileth often said I was the second-best housecarl after her. I'm certain she meant it as a compliment."
Yang cracked a laugh at that and sighed. "Okay. So, what do I do?"
"I suggest sticking to the roads and trying to travel in sight of other people. You'll be safe once you reach Whiterun, and either way it may take some time before the Dark Brotherhood realize their assassins have failed. A week at least, a month at the most. After that, try to always have someone by your side outside of the walls."
"I guess I can do that." Yang took in a breath and let it out with a puff. "By the way, how's Ruby doing? She taking to the training well?"
"Well…"
"Fus!" Suddenly dozens of pots were flung all around the monastery main hall. "Wah, I'm sorry!"
"Fus! Ro!" The wave of force knocked Master Borri onto his backside. "Oh cheese and crackers! I'm sorry!"
"Wuld! Wah!"
Ruby bounced off of the grate and the Greybeards looked over her in concern before she sprung back up.
"Okay, that works way different from my Semblance! Still, what a rush!" She noticed a small dent where she'd collided. "I'm so sorry!"
"Well, it could be worse."
"She's actually taken to the meditation aspect much better than expected."
"Let the breath of the world flow through you. Treat each breath as a motion of power. Think of each exhale like you would a swing of your blade. Picture a-"
Einarth tapped Argneir's shoulder and pointed his thumb at Ruby, whose eyes had fallen completely shut and posture had slackened. Her breaths had a slight noise to them, like a soft snore. Argneir made to sigh, but ended up laughing.
"I guess it's…progress?"
"She's only just begun. Still, they made it clear that it's to be a short lesson. Only a few days more and then she'll start setting out. Part of the training is the search for Word Walls, which can help her to better understand the dragon language, and make it easier to learn Shouts."
"Ah, I'll have to keep my eye open for those then." Yang nodded. "Well, it's good to hear from you guys. I hope Blake and Weiss are doing okay too. God knows they're probably scared out of their minds after that attack."
"Thank the gods!" Weiss sighed as they came upon Windhelm around dawn. Blake looked over at a clifftop to see a shrine to Talos overlooking the city. It certainly wasn't a recent construction, but she couldn't help but feel it symbolized defiance against the White-Gold Concordat's ruling to the people of this part of Skyrim. Weiss quickly noticed the shrine as well, and turned towards it.
"Kind of surprised that they would have that shrine that out in the open like that. Even Whiterun had theirs behind their walls," Weiss mused, curious towards the implications.
"Well, we're in rebel territory now," she said to her teammate.
"Yes, but despite that, it doesn't feel like there's a war going on. Though, I suppose dragons suddenly popping up would grind things to a halt. If Windhelm got attacked, they'd probably be reeling from it for a while. And that's if Ulric made it back in one piece. If he'd gotten caught out on the road by something, it could leave a power vacuum in the Stormcloaks and cause in-fighting. That would spell the end of their rebellion right there. Seeing as the city isn't up in flames or smoldering, however, I think it's safe to assume he made it back and there hasn't been a major dragon attack."
They passed by the horse stables and crossed over the bridge leading to the gate. A few guards were patrolling about, but didn't pay them much mind except to look at Blake's ears on occasion. The faunus nearly froze when she realized she hadn't put her bow back on, but when the guards didn't say anything about it, she felt a little calmer. The two stepped through the opening and looked around, glad to see another city that was more stone than wood.
"Has a real rustic feeling to it," Weiss commented. "Almost like the older parts of Mantle."
"Speaking of nostalgia, that guard's glaring at me like the police back home would." Weiss looked over to the guard in question, who was glowering at Blake with a grimace and whispering to another guard, who quickly ran off to the palace.
"Well, if anyone tries to say anything, I have over a dozen lines to put them in their place. Just play along with whatever I say and we'll be fine."
They started heading over to some signs that seemed to be indicating an inn, when they caught sight of two Nords on either side of a Dunmer woman near a stairway. Both girls immediately noticed the uncomfortable expression on the woman's face and stopped as their attention swapped over to them.
"We haven't taken a side because it's not our fight." The Dunmer seemed defensive, her posture tense, and hand near a concealed iron dagger, details the two Huntresses caught onto as they walked over.
"Hey, maybe the reason these gray-skins don't help in the war is because they're Imperial spies," one Nord accused.
"Imperial spies? You can't be serious!"
"Maybe we'll pay you a visit tonight, little spy," the other Nord proposed. Blake felt her teeth clench at that, and Weiss had to resist reaching for her rapier's hilt. "We got ways of-"
"Back off," Blake growled as she shoved the man back. Her eyes focused on his face as her pupils shifted. The man snarled and clenched a fist, but saw Weiss's hand on her sword hilt.
"There are certain ways men should never treat ladies. It could be hazardous to their health."
The man spit and started stumbling away. "Whatever. Filthy foreigners."
"Th- thank you," the woman expressed once the two Nords were out of earshot. "But please, don't get yourselves in trouble on my account. You'll find that the guards aren't up to taking the side of a dark elf against a human."
"We couldn't just stand by and let that man harass you like that," Blake replied. "What was that all about anyways? About being an Imperial spy?"
"Some Nords, in their ignorance, don't know how to differentiate a dark elf from a high elf. They tend to forget that our kind have hated each other since before the first men set foot on Tamriel. So there's no love lost between Dunmer and Thalmor, just most of a continent." She smiled a little and held out her hand in greeting. "I'm Suvaris Atheron. Pleasure to meet you both."
"Weiss Schnee," Weiss greeted as she took her hand.
"Blake Belladonna," her friend met while repeating the handshake.
"Good to meet you both. I should say though that you might not want to stay here too long. Windhelm's a dreary place to be, especially if you're not a Nord."
"We won't be too long. We plan to head up to Winterhold, actually."
"Headed to the college? Must be. It's the only thing of worth up there."
"Yes actually." Weiss beamed a little. "I'm hoping to study planar travel in-depth."
"That…is a rather deep subject to get into. I wish you the best though. May you find what you're looking for."
The Dunmer began heading down the stairway and Blake let go a sigh.
"Everywhere we go," she muttered.
"It could have been worse. Besides, I'm almost certain those were quiet threats. From what I've read, Dunmer aren't exactly the forgiving sort, and if she has even one family…" Weiss trailed off trailed off as she noticed a guard marching over to them, his eyes never leaving the two huntresses. In any other situation, Blake and Weiss would have already had their weapons drawn, but wisely decided against it. Soon enough, the guard had marched up them and stood face to face.
"You have been summoned to the Palace of the Kings by Jarl Ulfric himself. I am to escort you both. Come with me." The man left no room for argument.
"Why? We haven't done anything," Blake argued before receiving a sharp elbow to the rib by Weiss.
"We would be honored to speak to the Jarl," Weiss diplomatically replied, receiving a light glare from Blake.
"Hmph, at least one of you is smart. Not surprised it isn't the Khajiit," the guard huffed before motioning for the girls to follow him, Blake's stare of righteous anger not fazing him in the least. Soon enough, the three walked up to a large set of doors, with a plaque in between them, showing that this was indeed the aforementioned palace.
"Hurry along, then. The Jarl's inside," The guard ordered before setting off again into the city, continuing his previous patrol.
"I swear to the gods...!" Blake was fuming at this point.
"Blake, now is not the time," Weiss cautioned, attempting to calm the angry faunus down.
"When is the right time?!"
"Unfortunately, not right now. I'm angry too, but lashing out is not going to help us," Weiss reasoned to Blake, who began breathing deeply before calming herself.
"Fine. But if that happens again, I'm punching whoever does it, status be damned."
"And I'll join in. Come on, the guards are staring." Indeed they were, some of them with curiosity, others with suspicion, yet none made a move. Deciding to move inside and out of the cold, the two opened the doors to see a group of men and women in Stormcloak garb, but most of them wearing symbols of office like bearskin caps or insignias on their shoulders. Many of them turned their heads when the girls entered, and at the head of the group was a man wearing a long, fur coat over a set of armor.
"Oh, uh, we're sorry," Weiss apologized as she curtsied. "We didn't realize-"
"Come in and shut the door," the man's voice boomed. "The meeting just ended. Everyone, you have your orders. Talos watch you."
The soldiers saluted. "Talos watch you, Jarl Ulfric!" As the crowd began to disperse, either heading into different sections of the building or outside, the girls began to notice that not all of the apparent commanders were Nords. A handful were Bretons, or perhaps Nords with a lot of Breton heritage. Three were, surprisingly, Dunmer, though they stuck close to each other and didn't seem to mingle much with their Nord fellows. The sore thumb in the whole group was a single Argonian with dark blue scales and a white neck. He had no horns, but most of his head was covered in black feathers. His red eyes looked at them for a moment before he went back on his way to the west wing of the building. Seeing as the way was cleared, Weiss and Blake approached. Before they could speak, the Jarl, Ulfric Stormcloak, spoke up.
"So, two of the newest Thanes of Whiterun have come to Windhelm?" Ulfric stated as he sat down, surprising the girls. "Two of the four who gained the title after the slaying of a dragon, an event that likely triggered the Greybeards calling upon the new Dragonborn. It stands to reason then, that the Dragonborn would be amongst those four. Seeing as you two have traveled all the way here, however, it's neither of you. On the other hand, another Thane, the only one given a housecarl, was seen climbing the Seven Thousand Steps. Am I correct in assuming that she is the Dragonborn?"
"You… You know about all of this?" Weiss questioned, alarmed and slightly impressed. "How?"
"I'm a man at war. I don't like cloaks and daggers, but I'd be a fool to refuse their use in this time of strife. I have eyes in every hold, and some spotted a new Thane, reportedly one of the Dragonslayer Four, heading up to High Hrothgar. After that, it's simple deduction.
"I have no quarrel with any of you, of course. I just want you to know that I know who you are. What I don't know is why you're here."
Weiss and Blake looked between each other, trying to gauge whether or not they could trust the man. In the end, Weiss swallowed her suspicions and moved forward. "We only meant to stop for the night on the way to Winterhold, nothing more." Ulfric pondered their words for a moment, thinking them over while staring them down, before nodding.
"I see," Ulfric simply replied, a heavy silence descending upon the group, broken only by the sound of him rising to his feet. "Well, I suppose that makes us your hosts for the evening. I recommend Candlehearth Hall. You'll find the food and mead to be more than satisfactory."
"I... Thank you for the recommendation, Jarl Ulfric," Weiss curtsied, motioning Blake to follow, who slowly complied. Rising, the two made their way out of the palace, feeling the stare of Ulfric Stormcloak at the back of their heads the whole way.
As they left the palace, the Argonian commander came out from a corner.
"Excuse me," he began, his voice deeper than the last Argonian that they met. Both girl's felt a moment of hesitation, but Weiss ended up stepping forward.
"Can I help you?"
"Simply welcoming you both to Windhelm. I am Commander Runs-Through-Storms. You're newcomers here, but more than that, you're growing in fame. Tales of four dragonslaying women are spreading throughout Skyrim. You aren't famous, exactly, but you're getting there. And I'm beginning to see why. I heard about how you pulled Ralof away from Helgen, and how you cut short Rolff's bullying of some dark elf. You're brave, kind, and strong. Those three traits are difficult to find in a single being, let alone four who work together."
"We just try to do what's right," Weiss explained. "Nothing more."
"Funny. I think it's written down that the Divines-Blessed Hero said the same thing many a times." His face didn't change much, but they could see a smile in his eyes. "I hope your experiences in Windhelm haven't turned you off, like some of my people."
"Your people?" Blake asked.
"Argonians," he clarified. "We've never gotten the best when it comes to Skyrim, and many still are bitter over the Dunmer's slaving of our race for centuries." That statement shocked Blake so that her ears went stiff upwards as her eyes widened. Weiss only covered her mouth in concern. "Still, when we work hard, we can accomplish great things, even in a place that prefers its own kind above all others. Don't be too harsh in your judgement of the Jarl over the disparity. He's not anti-Argonian so much as he is pro-Nord. I'm living proof of this. Still, there are things that can tie us down, keeping us from reaching our full potential. Most Dunmer hate us, more than Nords hate either of us. And the rage my people feel against the Dunmer is untellable at times. Still, we get along enough, even if we can't live within the walls with them."
"Wait, your people are segregated from the rest of the city?!" Blake was shocked, even more so when the Argonian nodded not in sadness but something that she couldn't quite pin down.
"We tried. It didn't last the month. Frankly, I'm surprised Ulfric didn't just kick both races out, he had every right to. But he didn't."
"Still! Why do you put up with this injustice?" Blake demanded.
"Because only Ulfric will actually do something against the Thalmor!" the Argonian Commander resolutely declared. "When the Oblivion Crisis hit, Black Marsh, my homeland, was left to fend for ourselves by the Empire. Our armies died by the thousands, but we ultimately prevailed, even leading charges straight into Oblivion itself! But now, we are ruled by the An-Xileel, who are so isolationist that they ignore the threat the Thalmor and the Aldmeri Dominion pose to us all. The Empire is crumbling, unable to defend itself, and now the Thalmor have free reign over the entirety of the Imperial Provinces, abducting people as they please, whether they be men, mer, or beast-folk. I love Skyrim, it is my home, and Ulfric recognizes that and when he becomes High King, he and a strong, independent Skyrim will make the Thalmor pay for what they have done." Runs-Through-Storms' declaration was surprising to both girls, who were unable to form a reply. Seeing this, the Argonian shook his head and laughed.
"Don't mind me, just venting a little. Well, I shall take my leave. Enjoy your stay in Windhelm," With that, the Runs-Through-Stroms turned to leave and walked away, leaving the two girls behind, who silently looked to themselves before moving towards Candlehearth Hall.
"He's trying to recruit us," Weiss suddenly declared, inside the privacy of their room, which to their surprise was already paid for by the Jarl himself., along with their food and drinks.
"What makes you say that? Not to say I don't agree," Blake asked, agreeing with the sentiment but wanting to know her teammate's reasoning.
"It all adds up. Us meeting the Jarl not ten minutes upon entering the city. Runs-Through-Storms telling us his reason for joining his army, which while I believe him to be telling us his actual reasons, he was clearly ordered by Ulfric to make his case. And now, our room, board, and food have been paid for. It all adds up."
"Why would he go to such lengths to recruit us?"
"Think about it. We killed a dragon. Two in fact, and there is no doubt in my mind that he knows about the second. Not to mention Ruby. Us joining his cause would give him incalculable legitimacy to the eyes of Skyrim, not to mention a massive military advantage. And with us just waltzing in, it's too great an opportunity to miss. I caught on to what he was doing as soon as he revealed he knew who we were."
"Speaking from experience?"
"My father did it all the time," Weiss coldly replied, her father, even worlds away, still being quite the sore spot. Blake nodded at this, before standing up from her bed.
"Well, he's going to be disappointed. I have no plans on joining this civil war."
"Agreed," Weiss stood up as well. "Well, we might as well explore the city. We aren't going anywhere for a while, and I heard about some interesting shops in the city from Susanna the Wicked."
"Why is she called 'the Wicked'?" Blake asked, following Weiss out the door.
"Because she flirts with the patrons to earn extra tips," Weiss giggled, nodding her head to Susanna, who was doing just so to a Nord patron. "See?" Blake merely smirked before the two turned and exited the door, leaving the warm hearthfired inn for the cold tundra air.
"God, I'm freezing. How do you stand this?" Blake complained as the girls walked near the Grey Quarter. To no surprise, the guards didn't harass them at all, despite Blake's heritage. Some even seemed to give the two respectful nods. It seemed Ulfric was going all out in his recruiting.
"Quit your whining. It'll be fine. We've taken on dragons, and you're complaining about a little cold? Honestly, nothing could be worse than those things at this point." The two then rounded a corner, seeing a young boy talking to a Dunmer woman. They paid the two no heed, only to slow down as the two's conversation reached their ears.
"Then it's true," they heard a boy say as they started to walk nearby, "what everyone is saying. That Aventus Aretino is doing the Black Sacrament?" They both paused at that. "Trying to summon the Dark Brotherhood?"
Blake felt bile reach up for her throat as her memories played back to the other day. That assassin had almost killed her, by virtue of simply having gotten the drop on her. And they still weren't sure if Ruby and Yang were safe.
The Dunmer woman he was talking to shook her head. "Oh Grimvar…always with the nonsense. No, no, of course not. Those are just tales."
"Fine, then I'll invite him out to play." He started heading towards a doorway. "He lives right here. I'll just knock on his door…"
"No, child! Wait!" The Dunmer shot over between the boy and the building. "That boy, that house- They're cursed!"
"I knew it! Ha! He's trying to have someone killed!"
"All right, I won't deny it. What you heard is true. But Aventus walks down a dark path, and it's one that can only lead to ruin. You needn't concern yourself with him. Now come on, I'm the only friend you need," the Dunmer woman gently told the young boy, who smiled and took her hand, both walking away.
With no one in earshot, the two huntresses, both pale -paler in Weiss's case- went over to the house, feeling fear twist knots in them both.
"Blake," Weiss whimpered.
"Yeah, I know." Blake eyed the house, looking at the door and the windows. Listening closely, she could hear a steady tapping coming from inside. "Watch out for me. I'm going in."
"Going in?"
"If this is how someone summons them, then maybe I can get to the bottom of this." A lockpick was pulled from her pants and she set to work on unlocking the door. Weiss watched for any incoming guards both ways down the path. The moment the door came unlocked, Blake put her effects away and stepped inside. The sound of tapping was much clearer within the building. Pausing for a moment, Blake took a bandana and tied it around her mouth and nose, and then placed another on top of her head.
She followed the noise to a room lit by candles, and heard a voice murmuring an incantation, over and over.
"Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child onto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear. Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child onto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear." The boy sounded tired, like he had been doing this nonstop for days. Judging by the smell and the large amounts of discarded leftovers, that might have been the case. "Please...how long must I keep doing this, Night Mother?"
Walking up the stairs, she looked in and saw a boy kneeling down, tapping the yellow bones of a rotted corpse with a knife. The body was nearly a skeleton, with almost all of the flesh gone and most of its yellow bones exposed to the air. A book lay next to the boy with a purple flower lying upon it. He repeated the incantation once more, and slowly stopped, having noticed Blake's presence.
"You've come at last!" he cheered as he turned around to face her. "I knew you would!"
"Are you all right?" she asked in concern when she saw the bags under his eyes.
He didn't seem to hear her, however. "I knew it'd work! I just knew it! I did the Black Sacrament over and over with the body and the… the things. And then you came! An assassin from the Dark Brotherhood!"
Blake had no idea what to say, or what to tell him. She remained silent for a moment, and the boy seemed to be willing to carry on without a word more from her.
"You don't have to say anything if you don't want. You're here, so I know you'll accept my contract!"
"Contract?" If he meant that, then there was someone he'd want dead, and, looking at the ritual, Blake knew that there might actually be a sort of magic, perhaps even a daedra, behind this sort of thing. The Dark Brotherhood probably didn't even need to show up. They might just know who needed to be killed whenever the Black Sacrament was performed. And for payment, it could have been anything from money left at the spot, killing the contractor when all was said and done, or taking their souls upon death. Apparently, some of the Daedric Princes loved to do that last one.
"My mother she… She died. I was all alone, and then they sent me to that awful orphanage in Riften. Honorhall," he spat. "The headmistress there is an evil, cruel woman they call 'Grelod the Kind', but she's not kind. She's terrible. To all of us. So I ran away, and came home. And performed the Black Sacrament! And now you're here! And you can kill Grelod the Kind!"
Blake said nothing as she started to back away, but then her eyes fell to the book with the nightshade laid across it. She pointed it out, and the boy looked over to it and quickly grabbed it once he realized her intention.
"Okay, here you go. I guess this is part of it?" He handed the book to her and nodded. "And please hurry. I'm kinda lonely here, and to be honest, as much as I hated getting sent to Honorhall, I miss all of my friends from there."
Blake just nodded and used her Semblance to disappear, mostly just to throw off the boy, but also because it got her to the door that much quicker. She closed the door quietly and took off the bandanas before taking a deep breath.
"What happened?" Weiss asked as Blake stowed the cloths away.
"He thought I was the assassin he summoned," she explained. "Weiss, I'm pretty sure this Black Sacrament thing is a magic ritual. I don't know how it works, but I'd bet that there's already someone after Grelod."
"Who?"
"The headmistress of the Riften orphanage. Either she got an ironic nickname, which would be stupid, or the boy is simply overreacting to such a degree that he'd send trained killers after her."
"Wait, so, what are we supposed to do? Riften's not exactly a stone's throw away, and we need to set out for Winterhold tomorrow morning."
Blake thought their options over, but concluded that there was no way for both of them to go stop the assassin and get to Winterhold in a timely manner.
"Weiss, I hate to suggest this, but...we're going to have to split up again."
"Wait, split up? I… I'm not being needy here, but I don't think I can be on my own!"
"Not for long, no, but I swear I will get back as quickly as I can. Look, if nothing else, I might be able to figure out how to stop the Dark Brotherhood from coming after us ever again. If I go right now, and rush, I can get there in two days, and be back in four. I'll let you get as much blood as you need, and we can… You have some bottles right?"
"Blake…"
'She doesn't trust you.' The Ebony Blade made its presence known once again to the faunus, who quietly ignored it.
"You have to trust me on this Weiss. Someone's life is in our hands right now, and we're the only ones who could possibly save her. Can you do that?"
Weiss scowled. "What kind of question is that? Of course I trust you. It's just…I'm worried for you. For both of us."
"We'll be fine. Fought dragons, remember?"
"Don't go using my words against me," Weiss protested good-naturedly. "That's just unfair."
Blake hadn't expected to feel as woozy as she did after filling up a couple of pint-sized bottles and letting Weiss take a deep draught of blood. The heiress actually objected to taking any more of the precious liquid from her after a point, even though she was willing to give more. Probably for the best, as Blake couldn't even walk to the stables under her own power.
Luckily, a carriage was resting there, the driver having just swapped out his horse. Weiss negotiated a price with the man, and then pulled her teammate onto the back before taking a thick blanket and fur pelt from Blake's back to throw on top of her.
"Don't expect a smooth ride now. And I expect you to stay on this thing until this evening at least."
"Yes mom."
"Don't sass. She's ready to go when you are sir."
"All right t'en. Must be a tired lass." The driver checked over the horse's harness before hopping onto his seat. "All right, let's go. On to Riften."
As the carriage began moving forward, and unable to do much of anything, Blake took out a book from her sack. Journey of the Heroes. She knew the basic story from people talking about history, and a children's picture book she'd come across, but she never got to read a full novel about them before. Weiss gave her a final wave and Blake waved back before cracking open the book. The first page was a simple little introduction, describing the heroes themselves before actually going on with the story proper.
In the time of our greatest need, when the Third Empire was threatened by the very denizens of Mehrunes Dagon's Deadlands, when death hid around every corner, and any moment doom could be spelled for an entire city by way of a single Gate, there were five heroes who answered the call to bravery, and faced Oblivion without batting an eye.
Their leader, the Hero of Kvatch, the White Knight of the Empire, The Great Crusader of the Divines, The Golden Paladin, The Great Healing Archmage. He was a man of valor, the first to look into the Gates of Oblivion and step into them, knowing he may never return, all with the intent to stem the tide.
His second, and by some accounts his lover or admirer, The Champion of the Arena, Martial Champion of Cyrodiil, The Unerring Spear, Goddess of Victory. Always by his side, she gave her all to defeating the daedra not just for herself and the people, but for him as well.
Their comrade and joy of their party, Hammer-Maiden, The Guardian of Thunder, Savior of Minotaurs, The Last Laugh, The Lightning Hammer. If the daedra gave pause from the Hero and Champion, then they fled at the sight of the Guardian, for she was blessed by Wargod and Madgod alike, and even conquered the once wild minotaurs themselves to lead them against the forces of Dagon.
Every group must have the quick of foot, and theirs was no different. He was the Monk of Bladed Fists, the Silent Watcher, The Painless Death, Everywhere and Nowhere. The calm to the Guardian's wildness, the two were considered as inseparable as the Hero and Champion. He kept watch over all the others as his solemn duty to be the guide of their spirits, and anchor to the world.
And the last of their great party, the one most tragic, for he is Unknown. All records of him near vanished, all memories of him fogged. All anyone can recall is his odd turn of phrase, his skill in finding things in unlikely places, and the indications of madness about him. With the Five Heroes last venture into the Oblivion Gate of The Shivering Isles, and evidence that Jyggalag is free of Sheogorath, many philosophers have assumed the worst, and that the Fifth Hero sacrificed his very being to Mantle the Madgod, and free the Prince of Logic and Order.
Blake sighed. 'Okay, never read Tamriel introductions again, because apparently they're spoilers!'