And here's chapter 11. (Wait, what?) Yes, the Pieces of Apocrypha aren't chapters. Thanks again to xTRESTWHOx for filling in the blanks and correcting most of my mistakes.
Later that night, Weiss was sitting at one of Candlehearth's bars, throwing a smile towards Susanna as the woman pulled on her coat, getting ready to leave now that her shift was over.
"Take your time, but don't forget to rest, honey," she told Weiss with a wink before heading out the door. The girl just shook her head with a laugh. Despite the nickname she got for the flirting, she was actually a rather kind woman. For one thing, she actually saw Dunmer as people first, and couldn't understand her fellows' hatred of them.
"Hope she doesn't bother you too much," Elda said as she wiped up a clean mug. "She can be a little bit much for some, but she really can bring in the customers."
"I have a friend who'd have loved to hear you say that, simply so she could make uncouth jokes at everyone's expense."
The inn keeper laughed a little, but a nervousness began to show on her. "Say," she began. "You're…a fighter, right? Do you think you could do me a favor?"
'Oh boy…'
"If it's within my limits, certainly."
"Could you…watch over Susanna while she walks home? The streets have been…dangerous lately, and I fear for the girl. She's headstrong though, and won't ask for anyone to walk with her, even though… Will you, at least?"
"Ah, that's not too much to ask." Weiss stood up and stretched herself. "Just point me in the right direction."
"Thank you kindly. I'll have a free cup for you when you get back. She normally heads through the cemetery on her way home, towards the west. She usually stops there a minute, so you'll likely catch up with her there."
"I remember seeing it earlier. I'll find it. I'll be back shortly."
"Keep yourself safe as well," Elda warned as Weiss opened the door and stepped out into the cold night air. She took and deep breath and headed on her way, using clairvoyance for just a moment to get started. As she walked along and stuck her hands in her coat pockets, a breeze flowed across her, carrying the scents of chimney smoke, pines, and blood.
Weiss paused in her steps and took a sniff of the air. She was picking up blood and a lot of it. She started walking quicker, deciding to track the scent first and then go back on Susanna's trail. However, as she got closer to the source of the scent she realized she was still headed towards the cemetery rather than veering off like she'd expected. She turned a corner, seeing the light of the cemetery candles, and saw an older woman in threadbare clothes looking over the balcony, covering her mouth with eyes wide open. Weiss looked over and saw Susanna, her coat thrown aside, clothing ripped apart, and her body pockmarked by stab wounds. She was lying atop a grave, a bloody pool still growing around it.
"Oh gods!" Weiss muttered in horror.
His foe then twisted his mace, shattering his sword. Surprised as he was, he was unprepared for the Dremora to kick his chest and then pin him to the ground.
"You were strong, mortal, but not nearly strong enough!" the daedra taunted, swapping his mace for a sword and hoisting it above him. "How does it feel knowing that you've failed?"
The young man clenched his teeth, clawing at the foot pressing down on him, and tried to stand, but it was no use. He looked up at the Dremora with defiance in his eyes.
"I…didn't fail. I did exactly…what I set out to do. I beat your army back long enough…for my team, my friends, to get as many people out of the city as they could." His hand fell to his side, but his eyes continued staring with righteous anger at the monster before him. "I don't matter. Only they do. They're the strong ones, the powerful ones, the ones with skill. I'm just a boy who tried to swing a sword. That's all you've beaten."
The Dremora snarled as he reversed his grip on the blade and hefted it up to stab down into the young man, who continued to refuse giving him the satisfaction of seeing any fear or regret.
"This is only the beginning!" it shouted as its arms raised up high. "Of our vic-"
A spear suddenly sank into the Dremora's chest, and only a second later a hammer was swung forward, smashing into its gullet and sending it flying back, causing the spear to be forced from its body. The young knight looked up to see his two female companions standing battle ready, and then his two male friends dragged him back a few feet and started tending to his wounds.
"Don't you ever," that musical voice reprimanded, cracks coming up to try and interrupt her words, "do something so foolish again!"
"You have several cuts, and I think a rib might be cracked, but overall you're fine."
"And if that isn't a shattered sword I see," the Unknown One observed. "Good thing I brought you a spare." Said spare sword was stabbed a few inches higher than his knees in the space between his legs. A little frightened of the placement, but thankful for the blade, he took it in his hand as he was helped up to his feet.
"Ready when you are boss!" the Hammer-Maiden called back as their Dremora foe stood up and a veritable sea of scamps and clanfears came charging.
"Keep them from the Gate!" he shouted as he readied himself for battle.
The carriage stopped with a small jolt, pulling Blake out of her reading. It was rather good, to be honest, if a little embellished. The thought of the Hero of Kvatch being a boy with only a few months of basic training saving the world was obviously an artistic interpretation meant to sell more copies. She read the exact same plot numerous times back on Remnant. Yawning, Blake took a look around to see that the sun was going down, and it looked like the carriage driver was getting ready to set camp for the night.
"I think that's as far as I need you to take me," Blake told him as she climbed down and began packing her things. It was much warmer this far south, but Blake still needed a coat on.
"I wouldn't be going just so soon, missy. As tired as ya were this morning, I doubt you up for trekkin' at night." He gestured over to what looked like a bonfire nearby. "Ya better off waitin' here, near the Steamcrag Clan's camp. The Giants'll keep most anything away, and we can always get near the fire if it gets too cold on ya."
"Thanks, but, I'm in a-"
The familiar roar of a dragon stopped her words and Blake felt dread overtake her. In all their encounters with the beasts, she was never the one doing much damage to them. The most she could do was distract or go for their wings. She looked west and saw one coming from a plateau. The Giants nearby were moving around, startled, and the mammoths trumpeted in fear as the fire-breathing reptile swooped in and hovered down, landing only a few meters away from them. The bronze and grey dragon let out a sound that Blake could only consider a laugh.
"Welcome, little joor, to the lands of Vulgahrotru. You needn't worry. There is simply a toll, a fine you must pay for passing through my borders." The dragon laughed again, as though doing this was hilarious.
"Wha- what do you want?" the carriage driver stuttered out, holding onto the horse's reins to keep it from galloping away.
"Mm, I'd say…fifty gold for both of you, and twenty for your key."
"My... My what?" The carriage driver was a strange of mixture of confused and terrified as began to fish for his coin purse.
"Your horse," The dragon chuckled, confirming to Blake that this Vulgahrotru did find this to be hilarious.
"And…that's it?" Blake asked, surprised that she was, essentially, being shaken down by a dragon rather than it trying to kill or eat them.
"Well, I can't take all of your gold at once. Otherwise, you won't pass through again, and I won't be able to charge the fee again. Yuvon nu, yuvon ruz."
The driver began looking through his coinpurse and started pulling out malks, to which the dragon sneered.
"Not your moonstone bits! Gold!"
"Y-y-y-ya want it in septims? O-okay!" He dropped them back in and began fishing out the gold pieces. Blake checked herself for septims as well, but found she was nine short of fifty.
"Tell me you have at least ten extra," she whispered over to him. "I'll give you a malk, just please have ten more septims."
"I- Ive got ya c-c-covered, lass."
The two went to hand over the gold, but were unsure how to do so, when the dragon opened its jaws and pulled its tongue back. Blake saw golden trinkets, coins, and even a fork in its mouth, and so dropped her fifty coins in as well. Once they were in the dragon closed its mouth slowly and seemed to be pushing them around with its tongue.
"Mmhm, yes. All accounted for. Tiid bo viing. Farewell, little mortals." With that the dragon highwayman took off into the air, heading back to his plateau. Blake watched him as far as she could, but at this distance the dragon seemed like a silhouette. The driver nearly collapsed in relief as he let out a sigh.
"By Mara! We were just held up by a dragon! Boys back home ain't gonna believe this one!"
"I'm…having trouble believing it," Blake murmured as she looked at the road ahead of them. "You know, I think I will rest for the night."
'Yang must never know.' Blake thought, knowing exactly how that conversation would go.
'A serial killer,' Weiss, standing in front of the palace gates, thought as she shivered once again. Not from the cold, but from the thought that around a corner a killer could be waiting to strike. She was relatively safe, having concentrated on keeping up her Aura defense at all times, but the same couldn't be said for anyone else. 'An actual, damned serial killer on the loose.'
With one final push, she stepped into the Palace of the Kings, thankful to see that the steward was still at work this late. She took in a deep breath, ready to approach him and get herself on this case. Her gut told her that she might be the only one able to do this, and it just might be true going by what that guard had said, the conversation still fresh on her mind as she made her way towards the steward.
"Susanna makes the third. It's always the same: young girl, killed at night, body torn up."
"How's the investigation into this going?" Weiss asked, struggling to avert her eyes from the grisly scene.
"To be honest, there isn't much of one," the guard explained with shame lacing his voice. "War's stretched us thin, and the dragons aren't helping matters. No one has the time to really look into this."
"What!? No one has the time?!" Weiss practically shrieked, loud enough to echo off the walls.
"Please, don't be upset. It's the truth. I'm already pulling a double shift, and I've been pulled away from my watch. Jarl Ulfric's trying to straighten things out with his commanders, but there's a lot going on. Between keeping villages from being burned down by either dragons or Imperials, and the fighting in general, supply lines, recruit training, arming the soldiers… Just…don't blame him for this. This killer's truly taken advantage of the times."
"But…there must be something. Maybe I could help?"
"You want to help? You can be my guest, but first, you better speak to Steward Jornleif. Make it official."
"Yes, may I help you?" the tired man asked when Weiss came close.
"Yes, it's about the recent murders. There's…been another one. Susanna, who worked at Candlehearth."
"Susanna?" the man asked in surprise as he fully turned towards her. "Oh, gods, that poor girl. I just can't… Oh, look, if you want to ask about the investigation-"
"I want to join the investigation," Weiss clipped in. "Something like this… It can't be allowed to continue. I never realized how close something like this can hit someone. I saw her less than half an hour before her death. Not only that, but I've been trained to investigate criminal acts like this." Not entirely the truth, but she had been trained in some criminal investigation. "Let me help you."
"I'm not sure that's appropriate, ma'am," Jornlief protested with great reluctance. "I'm afraid that-"
"You heard her," a voice boomed, and the two turned to see Ulfric Stormcloak and his housecarl coming from the east wing. "Let her help."
"Oh, uh, my Jarl, uh-"
"She has some skill in magic that most of my men lack. She may be able to find angles that we might not have been able to search. And, if she really has been trained for this, she might be the push we need to find this bastard." The Jarl grimaced. "This killer has made a mockery of my city, and turned the streets at night into a place of fear. He's harmed my people. Frida Shatter-Shield, Giraise Droldran, and now Susanna. This needs to end."
'Droldran?' Weiss thought. 'That sounds like a Dunmer name! What is this degenerate's target spectrum?'
"Of course, my Jarl. Well, then, if you're going to be on this case, let's get you a badge of office to-"
Ulfric placed a dagger onto the table, a carving of a bear on its pommel. Weiss immediately picked up the dagger and unsheathed it for a moment to see that the Windhelm bear was also etched on the blade itself.
"Go with my authority. Find this killer, so I can put his head on a pike." Ulfric practically growled those last few words. Weiss nodded as she sheathed the dagger.
"I won't disappoint."
When Weiss got back to the crime scene, the body had already been cleared and taken into the Hall of the Dead. Even after talking to the witnesses and getting permission to examine the body itself, Weiss wasn't getting much. Susanna's coinpurse was untouched, so money wasn't the objective. The beggar she'd seen, Silda, explained that she just heard a scream and came to see Susanna already murdered. A guard had questioned a man named Calixto, who said he saw someone running, but didn't get a good look at him. That didn't really narrow anything down. If anything, it only made things more complicated.
'If the motive wasn't money, what was it? Spurned lover? Jealous customer? Brothers, I wish I had more to go on! The incompetence of that guard!' Weiss internally raged, directing a glare towards where the guard stood, who had, perhaps a bit more quickly than normal, had went back to his previous patrol. The idiot didn't even think to ask which way the suspect had headed, and Weiss let him know just how much of an imbecile he was for that. After venting her frustration a decent amount, the girl went off to the side to take a few breaths of fresh air. She didn't mind the smell of blood, but the smell of death was something altogether different.
'I just hope that I never get used to the smell of death. Gods know I experience that first one enough as it is. And with the blood...' As she breathed in the clearer air rolling in from outside of the city, she caught a faint whiff of something and looked down. The deliciously sweet scent seemed faded, but she could still pick it up. She bent over and brushed away the snow layer by layer until her eyes caught the slight spreading of a red line. Weiss tapped a finger to it and brought it to her mouth.
'Blood,' she realized. She took a sniff of the air again and began walking forward. She uncovered another spot of blood, and looked forward, practically seeing with her nose at this point. She slowly followed the trail, taking deep breaths in through her nose and out of her mouth to the side. There was almost no chance that anyone else could have followed such a trail, but Weiss's sense of smell was especially attuned to the scent of blood. Even a Khajiit would have had trouble matching her in this regard.
Following the faint trail of blood, Weiss walked through the city, moving out of the Stone District and into Valunstrad, where all the nobles lived. No one was awake at this hour, so she wasn't disturbed. So focused on the trail of blood, she didn't notice that the trail stopped at a door until she walked straight into it.
"Ow!" Weiss grunted in slight pain, holding her nose as she gazed at the door. "Stupid... Wait. The trail... It goes inside..." Weiss could smell the blood from outside, and judging by the strength of the stench, it was a lot. Backing up, she was able to observe the manor in greater detail. It was a large, wood and stone two-story manor, surrounded by an iron fence. It was close to the palace, and seemed practically abandoned. She tested the knob and snarled when she found it locked.
"What a time to not have Blake around," she muttered as she stepped back and looked the house over once. She focused magic into her eyes, weaving it so that it matched the pattern she wanted, and then she could see pinks lights all over the district in the basic shapes of humans, a few dogs and cats, and a family of mice. Nothing appeared inside the house before her, telling her that the killer had left the vicinity. She sighed and let go of the detect life spell. Just in case, she cast detect undead, but saw nothing but her own hands glow. Satisfied, she left the building, planning to get someone to unlock it for her, or just get a key.
Finally arriving to Riften, a little shorter on septims than she would have preferred, Blake walked from the stables up to the city of Riften as the carriage driver told a heroic story about how a dragon had forced him and "the fair young maiden" to pay a toll or be eaten, where he naturally gave her what she needed to pay the beast off, for while he was a man of heart, he was not so much one of arms. Blake decided to let him have at it and acted like she couldn't hear him. Seeing the wooden gate standing before her up the hill and the wooden walls, she once again felt a bit of apprehension concerning so much burnable surface area when there were fire-breathing dragons about. Still, dragons weren't the problem right now. Rather, she was glaring at her current problem, a guard who had stopped her from entering.
"There's a tax for all new visitors to Riften," the guard, wearing the purple gambeson of the Rift, smugly told Blake. "Twenty-five septims to enter." The guard held out his hand, expecting to receive the 'tax', only to quickly pull his arms back when Blake merely glared harder and crossed her arms.
"Look, I got shaken down by a dragon on the way here. I am not putting up with this! Let me in right now, or I swear I'll-"
"Alright, alright," the guard placated her. The other guard nearby looked over to them, his eyes squinting at his fellow, confused as towards his actions. Or frustrated over his apparent lack of spine. Blake couldn't quite tell with the helmet. Regardless, the first guard began walking towards the gate. "Keep your voice down. Go on in then." He pulled the gate open and Blake walked through to see Riften from within. The city almost seemed to be halfway a dock, with much of the market and shopping district suspended over the waters of the lake. Blake could actually look down in several places and see water, as well as the lower level of the city, which seemed to be where most of the commoner population actually lived. Some people fished from just outside of their homes, making Blake think of having a nice trout for dinner before she refocused on her task. She saw a sign for 'The Bee and Barb' and, assuming from the building's size that it was the local inn, she pushed open a door, curiously placed at the building's corner, and entered into the atmosphere of coziness she was coming to associate with inns and their main floors.
"Come on in," a raspy voice called out from behind the counter. Blake walked in the rest of the way and shut the door behind her, then noticed that the person working behind the bar was actually a female Argonian, identifiable by her slimmer, almost feminine build and duller scales, as well as a lack of feathers, large horns, head crests, or head bumps that the males displayed. A waiter taking orders at a table was actually a male Argonian, and Blake had to wonder if they were married or related. "Don't be shy, dear," the female continued, somehow getting her voice to carry a sense of care across. "Let Keerava know what she can do for you," the female Argonian, Keerava, spoke in an approximation of normal Khajiit speak, only to receive a blank look from Blake. Rubbing the back of the head, Keerava let out a small chuckle. "Heh, sorry if I offended you there. Just saw the ears. Wasn't-"
"It's okay. I don't talk like that anyways," Blake brushed off. "Never even been to Elsweyr, so," she shrugged.
"Oh, well, if you don't mind my two cents, perhaps you should visit, once things calm down. It's always good to see the lands of your ancestors, get a perspective on the past." Blake thought over her words for a moment before nodding.
"I might one day. Right now though, I was hoping you could point me out to the orphanage, Honorhall?"
"Honorhall? Ah, Sithis' spit! Look dear, if you were hoping to adopt, I have some bad news for you there."
Blake felt a knot form in her throat. Was she too late?
"See, for some reason I can't fathom, adoptions aren't being allowed right now. I can't tell you why. If I ran an orphanage, my only worry would be if I was sending them to a good home. Other than that, I'd do my best to get them out as quick as I could. Of course, I run an inn, so I'm always trying to get people inside, and only out when they don't pay or get unruly."
"Oh, I see," Blake sighed in relief. "Well, it's not that. I just have an important message to give to the headmistress. Family related."
"Oh, courier then? Or one-time job? Eh, either way, can't imagine anyone sending her something. Maybe someone died? Well, you'll find Honorhall on the west side, on the southern pad, just past the Scorched Hammer. If you see Rena's goat, you've gone too far south. If you're wondering which is Rena's, it's the only one in town."
"Thank you so much," Blake said as she headed for the door. She paused a moment and looked back. "I, uh, may need a room when I'm done."
"And you'll have one once you pay," Keerava responded playfully. Blake smiled, headed back out, and went south of the inn. As she maneuvered through the odd, planked streets, she heard voices calling out, trying to get customers to look at their wares. There was another Argonian at one stall, right across from a Dunmer, and both seemed to be selling jewelry, though the Dunmer also had an array of daggers and potions on display. As she started wondering why the two seemed to not have any sort of hatred showing between them, a large Nord stepped in her way and stared down at her.
"I don't know you," he growled bluntly. "You in Riften looking for trouble?"
"I'm just here for a little while then I'm gone." She made to go around him, but he stepped back in her way. A grimace crept onto her face as she looked up at him angrily.
"Well listen here, get out quick. The Black-Briars don't need anyone sticking their nose around here."
"Who?" The large Nord snarled and actually had the audacity to look offended
"The Black-Briars are the most powerful family in the Rift, and have Riften in their pocket, and the Thieves Guild watchin' their back, so you best keep your nose out of their business. Otherwise, you answer to me, Maul." Maul declared, slapping his large war hammer for added emphasis, only to receive an unamused reaction from the faunus.
"Well, lucky for you, I'm not interested in anything here," At this point, Blake moved around the man, only to pause. "…What's even your deal with me? I can't be the only person you haven't seen before."
"No, but you stood out. Most Khajiit don't leave their caravans, and I ain't heard a Khajiit speak clear like you before. Ya practically sound like a Breton. Then you go looking for information. I don't know what it was, but I'm keeping an eye out on you."
"I was just looking for the orphanage, okay."
"Heh, so that's it, huh?" He seemed entertained by that statement. "All right then, piece of "friendly" advice, stay out of Maven Black-Briar's way. She's pretty much runs the whole operation. She's got friends in high places if you know what I mean. She's also got ties to the Dark Brotherhood and the Thieves Guild, so basically no one can touch her." At that Blake's eyes opened wide and her breath hitched in her throat. Maul noticed and chuckled. "Yeah, I see that got your attention real quick. Just remember, if she tells you to do somethin'... you damn well better do exactly what she says."
With that, the man walked away, and Blake did her best to recover her sense.
'Couldn't have anything to do with it. She doesn't even know who we are! I don't even know who she is! But, if I- No!' She banished the thought of her silently 'getting rid of him' from her mind. More than a little unnerved still, Blake continued on towards Honorhall, hoping she was in time.
Blake stared and blinked after the headmistress's little 'speech' to the children was finished and looked over to the young woman beside her.
"Is she…always like that?"
"Unfortunately," Constance answered with a nervous rub to her neck. "Sorry. She's just old and set in her ways. And I think more than a little bitter."
'I think some people would say way more.' She looked over the crowd of children who had slowly dispersed from the spot where Grelod had told them to basically stop talking or thinking about ever getting adopted and to basically just accept that their lives were doomed to misery. There were nearly two dozen children, most of them humans of one type or another. There were a handful of Dunmer children that had sequestered themselves from their human counterparts, and a few Bosmer that seemed to be divided among the groups. Two Altmer children were present, a boy possibly nearing mid-teens, and a toddler girl. The odd one out was a single Argonian child of indeterminate gender who seemed to be keeping to themselves. Not a single one of them didn't look miserable or angry.
"I…don't see any Orsimer or Khajiit," Blake observed.
"Well, Khajiit children are…difficult to tell…"
"Because they're cubs?" she deadpanned.
"That, and the caravans always pick up any orphans and take them in. It's rather inspiring, actually. As for orc children, I don't think I ever even heard of one being orphaned, since they most likely have ten or so mothers to spare, and who knows how many brothers and sisters."
"Makes sense." She looked over the groups of children once more and sighed when a couple looked at her longingly. It seemed they were completely willing to ignore her ears so long as she could pry them out of this den of melancholy. "I need to speak with Miss Grelod a moment. It's private, so…"
"Don't worry. I won't stop you. Just…don't expect her to be civil."
Blake nodded and went up the staircase she'd seen the old woman go up. There were several rooms, most with a couple small beds inside them, but the first one Blake aimed for was at the end and shut. She knocked and waited a moment while the sound of a chair's legs scraping the floor came from within.
"Who's there?" a shrill voice range out, clearly irritated.
"I have a message for you, Miss Grelod. It's really important and confidential."
"Oh come in then," the woman begrudgingly called out. Blake opened the door, entered, and shut it behind her. Grelod stood up with a grunt and looked at her with disdain.
"Oh, great, a cat. Well, give me your message then."
Blake took in a deep breath, ignoring the part of her mind that said to let her die and reminding herself that being a bitch wasn't reason enough for murder. Just to help solidify her stance, she recalled that stopping an assassin here might help lead to finding their central base and stopping them for good.
"I have it on good authority that someone is planning to have you killed," Blake explained, causing Grelod to raise an eyebrow. "Aventus Aretino has used the Black Sacrament. I don't know when or how, but a Dark Brotherhood assassin is out for you, probably on its way right now."
The old crone actually smiled and began laughing. "Dark Brotherhood? Oh that's rich! Those are just an old wife's tale dumber women tell their brats to make 'em do their chores and go to bed. Personally, I prefer tangible threats."
Blake growled. "It's not a fairy tale! An actual assassin tried to kill me and a friend of mine on the road! I barely survived, and it was mostly luck."
"Oh, so someone sent an assassin after you?" she taunted while her smile dropped for an unpleasant frown. "Must have ticked off the wrong person. Stole something from someone important, did you? Picked the wrong locks?"
Blake resisted the urge to gulp as she remembered the Ebony Blade's weight against her shoulders. Her mind panicked a moment before she recalled that no one who even could have known about the Blade would have been willing to have them killed over it.
"The reasons don't matter. Look, I want to stop them as much as I'm sure you want to not die. Just let me lend you a hand for a short time so I can catch them off-guard, maybe capture them. Then I can question them and try to stop the attacks altogether."
"So you're telling me, that you want to stick around for a while like a body guard, stop a likely highly trained assassin, and then destroy an age old cabal that entire legions of people have sought to oust? Well, I've heard some big ones in my day, but that has to be in a category all on its own," Grelod sneered, catching Blake off guard.
"Wh- what?"
"Listen here, if you're looking to squat down somewhere, we have inns, the bunkhouse, and Beggar's Aisle for you. Or maybe you should find yourself in the Ratway? Can't think of a better place for a mangy cat like yourself."
Blake felt her face heating up in anger as her nails pushed into her palms.
"She's undeserving of life, and it will be snuffed soon anyways."
'Shut up!'
"Are you…really so stubborn that you're just going to let them come and get you? I didn't come all the way from Windhelm just to sit around in your dusty orphanage! I came here trying to save your life!"
"I don't need any help from a half-cat like you. Now, if you're done spouting out tales of assassins and boogeymen, I have some papers to go through." The old woman looked back to a stack of sheets sitting on her desk, obviously dismissing the faunus. Blake turned and went to leave, embroiled with anger, but something made her pause in her steps.
Check the closet.
Normally, she wouldn't even think of rummaging through someone else's things unless she had to, but something about the door within the room was calling out at her. Reaching over, she grasped the handle of the closet door and pulled it open. Her eyes widened and her ears went backwards as she saw the inside. Small manacles were lined on the walls, at a short height, with musty hay placed beneath each of the three pairs. A horse whip and a leather belt sat on a stool next to a half-full bottle of something. There were little flecks of dried blood in some places, not enough to be alarming in its amount, but considering everything else it was horrifying by its presence alone.
Grelod seemed to finally notice Blake looking within the closet. "What the- Get out of my-"
Blake turned on her with a feral snarl, her cat-like pupils having turned to slits, and her larger than normal canines on full display. "What the hell is this?!" she shouted in rage.
Grelod sneered. "Oh come off it, you self-righteous cat! I run this place by the sweat of my brow, and when a child steps out of line, it's up to me to teach them a-"
Blake's hand whipped out and smacked Grelod across the face, but to her immediate horror, she heard a crack. The old woman fell to the floor, her eyes rolled back into her head, and her neck bent unnaturally. Blake stared at her hand in fear, and realized she had hit an elderly civilian with not an ounce of combat skill, much less Aura, with a strike powerful enough to hurt a Huntsman. Blake gripped her chest as her heart hammered against her breastbone and backed into the wall. Terror at the situation eclipsed her mind for a long moment, before ideas seemed to pour into her head. Tentatively, she gripped the hilt of the Ebony Blade, and those ideas became more tangible.
'Mephala is the god of murder and plots,' she recalled as she looked at the corpse.
Blake got to work quickly, moving the chair from the desk and putting it on its side. She gently dragged the body over and set her neck onto one of the legs. She took a slipper from Grelod's left foot and gently tossed it from her position directly opposite of the chair. Done, Blake stepped back and looked over the scene. Just to give it more credibility, she went over and pressed against the chair leg enough to crack it, and then scraped Grleod's nails against a bed post. If she didn't know any better, she would have believed Grelod to have just had a nasty fall with the unluckiest landing.
Once she had calmed herself, Blake headed back downstairs, holding herself back from moving too quickly, and politely gave Constance a goodbye. Before she made to leave, something wrapped around her leg, and Blake looked down to see the toddler Altmer having hugged her tightly.
"P'ease be my mama!" the elf girl begged. Constance seemed to be ready to pull the girl away, but Blake reached down and patted the little girl's platinum blond hair.
"I'm sorry, but I don't even have a home to take you to. I can promise you though, a sweet girl like you will find a good family one day." The child smiled at that and let go before Constance took her hand.
"Have safe travels," the woman told her.
"I will."
Back at the Bee and Barb, Blake plopped herself into a stool at the bar with a groan and a desperate need for a drink, consequences be damned.
"I take it that it went about as well as you'd expect from a conversation with Grelod 'the Kind'?" Keerava observed as she set a Black-Briar mead in front of a Nord man a few stools down. The inn itself was steadily emptying out, leaving only herself and a few patrons, mostly drunkards hoping to get another pint. Besides the Argonian owners, the only ones she could see that were wholly of sound mind was the man next to her and a solitary Nord woman, sitting in a booth on the far side of the room.
"Can you believe there's a runaway trying to put a hit on her? I could never imagine," Blake joked, hoping to drive her mind from the event from earlier.
'When I get back I should probably tell him she's dead, just so he'll go back to the orphanage. He'll probably die from disease or the cold up there if he doesn't starve.'
"No kidding? Know what, you deserve something special. Talen-Jei, get this girl a White-Gold Tower. She looks like she needs it."
"Right away," the Argonian man said as he went over to a shelf and began mixing the drink together. Blake smiled at the sight.
"Haven't seen an inn or bar actually mix drinks in Skyrim. Most just give a bottle or pour it from a keg."
"Well we scaled folk like to have a little sophistication in our bits of debauchery. That, and going the extra mile in our services can bring in a lot more varied customers, and a bit more coin."
"Here you are, White-Gold Tower." The drink looked creamy to Blake, and had lavender set on top and an orange flower petal dipped into it. She picked it up and took a sip to find she actually loved the taste. Seeing her smile, Keerava laughed.
"Got it again. Haven't met a Khajiit who didn't like it."
"It is good," Blake agreed before taking another sip. "Better get something to eat though. And a room. Got any fish?"
"Do we ever! How about Lakeside Menagerie? It's pretty much every fish you can catch in the lake all baked and then mixed with rice before set onto a pair of slaughterfish fillets. Or salmon if you don't like the taste of slaughterfish."
"That sounds amazing! Can I get both kinds?"
"Half and half? All right then. We'll have that ready for you in a few." As Keerava went to prepare her meal, the Nord man scooted over to the next seat closest to her with a smile on his face.
"Say, I think I heard about you. Miss 'I-Was-Shaken-Down-By-A-Dragon'?"
"Oh boy," Blake muttered before taking a deeper sip of her drink. "Yeah, what is it?"
"Just a little impressed is all," the man smirked with a cocked eyebrow. "Not an ounce of fear when telling off a guardsman, staring down Maven's attack dog, and then going to mouth off to the eighty time recipient of 'worst caretaker of the year' award. All of that after getting robbed by a dragon and all you do is try to unwind. You're an interesting one, lass. That's all I'm saying. Interesting and low on coin." At this, the man's voice lowered to a whisper. "Look right stealthy too, and stealthy people can make good coin if they've gotten the interest of a group dedicated to making the world easier for them."
Glancing around, Blake saw that no one was near enough to overhear her. "So, I take it you're with the Thieves' Guild I heard about?"
"Got it in one. See what I mean? You've a good head on your shoulders. What do you say to a little…expenditure?"
"Sorry, but I'm in the middle of a very tumultuous point in my life. Kinda have people trying to kill me." No sense in covering that up. "So, I'm going to have to decline."
"Ah, understandable, lass. Just look up ol' Brynjolf if you ever want to have a go at it."
"I'll keep that in mind."
With that, the Nord man moved back where he was. Blake smelled the scent of fish cooking in the air and sighed.
Weiss could smell blood, old and new, all over the place. Her nose first led her to a chest, where she discovered several fliers and a small notebook. The fliers were all the same, warning people of 'The Butcher', written up by a Viola Giordana. The notebook, on the other hand, was written by someone else about a plan referencing 'flesh magic' and spoke of Susanna's 'strong joints' and 'exquisite tendons'. She felt herself grow sick at the implications, and realized that this was a whole new kind of criminal.
"Necromancer," she murmured. So far, everyone who ever taught her even a little bit of magic had the same thing to say about necromancy. Don't touch. Cynrrbert and Farengar both explained it in a little more detail, telling her that 'lesser' necromancy was fine and okay. Raising a body to fight was one thing. Ripping souls from the afterlife, or trying to 'create' life from death were something completely different. A necromancer would also likely be a skilled mage, at the very least a very skilled conjurer.
She followed her nose again, this time to another room. On a small shelf there were even more of the Butcher fliers, making her think that this criminal was trying to minimize the awareness of his presence. One pile looked a little off, and so she moved the papers to find an amulet beneath them. She lifted it up and looked it over, seeing that it was well-crafted and very old, a jade set in its center with a long worn carving. Giving it another glance with her magic, she could see that it was enchanted to make conjuration easier, perfect for a necromancer. There were other enchantments, but she couldn't make them out, which was odd, as she could usually make out any enchantment with a bit of focus, even if she hadn't studied the enchantment on a table.
She pocketed the amulet and went over to a wardrobe where the smell of blood wafted from. Opening it showed her nothing, which she immediately found suspicious. Closing her eyes, she tried to just let her nose guide her, taking small sniffs while moving her head about. She bumped into the back panel of the wardrobe and then backed away, but frowned when she thought it over. Testing it with a tap, the panel sounded like it was loose. Weiss checked the outside of it and confirmed that the wardrobe was, indeed, bolted to the wall. She reached back in and fiddled with the back to find that it slid to the left. This revealed a secret room hidden in the house, and the sight within made her gasp.
Inside the secret room behind the wardrobe was an altar, and atop it were severed limbs, organs, bones, and other body parts carefully arranged to the anatomically correct position relative to each other. Discarded pieces littered the floor, some thrown into a basket before whoever had done this seemed to give up on any semblance of upkeep to anything but the altar itself. Weiss managed to step inside and looked at the symbols etched into the altar.
"I…don't recognize this. This isn't the symbol for Conjuration." She noticed another small stack of notes amateurishly bound by a piece of leather and picked it up and flipped through.
17 tendons and assorted ligaments
173 fragments of bone for assemblage
approx. 4 bucket-fulls of blood (Nord preferred)
6 spoons of marrow (no more than 2 from a thigh)
12 yards of flesh (before cutting)
star-scrying to the edge of the ice-mind
look to the lights where the souls dance
revealing the time when a spark will revive
when the rotted united under most skillful hands
(translation from Aldmer text, as interpreted by the Ayleids and first transcribed by Altmer. provenance and authority unknown)
Soon
"What in the living… What is this?" Weiss looked over the room again, and then at the partially assembled body. She'd never heard of anything like this. The warnings she was given told her to beware of people trying to bring the life back into a single body, not constructing one from an array of parts. And there were far more than two people's worth of pieces.
'The girls they found, the bodies that showed up… Those were just the ones he couldn't drag back.'
Feeling sickened, but not so much by her senses as she was her thoughts, Weiss left the room and headed for the door.
After telling a guard of what she found at Hjerim, Weiss was pointed to Calixto as a person to ask about identifying the amulet. Recalling him from earlier in the investigation, she went towards his home/museum, Calixto's House of Curiosities. Luckily, he was just heading in when she got there.
"Calixto?"
"Ah, hello there miss," he greeted her pleasantly. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Yes, actually. I've been investigating the murders that have been happening recently, on authority of Jarl Ulfric. I was told you might be able to identify this." She handed the amulet over to him and he began looking it over, humming to himself.
"Ah, yes. This is the Wheelstone, a symbol of power in Windhelm, traditionally carried by the court mage."
'Court mage? Could it be that Ulfric's own mage is responsible for this?' Weiss thought to herself at the implications. 'Would certainly explain why no one's been able to find him... Who would expect the court mage?'
"I would, uh…be interested in acquiring it," he continued, breaking Weiss out of her thoughts. "If you're willing to part with it that is."
"You want to buy it?" She raised her brow at that. "Shouldn't it be returned to the court?"
"Bah, it will be fine. It's purely ceremonial. They've likely already made a new one to replace it. Here, I'm willing to part with…two ebons for it."
Weiss eyes widened at that, and in her mind they changed to lien signs. Her mind started wondering if they shouldn't change to septim signs instead, but she shook the thought away and smiled.
"Well, for that much how could I refuse?"
"Excellent! This will be a wonderful piece for my collection! Here, step inside while I go get your coins. Have a look around while you wait."
Weiss followed him into the house and looked about as he went upstairs. There was a variety of items about on tables and shelves, ranging from Soul Gems, to embalming tools, to animal bones, to instruments. While interesting to look at, nothing much really popped out at her, save for a book sitting on a center shelf with the words The Book of Fate on its face. Before she could continue that train of thought, she thought about picking it up to have a gander at the words, but supposed that it might be rude to do so. She heard Calixto coming back down and turned to him as he came back to the ground floor.
"Here you are," he said as he handed her the two black coins, the silvery etchings of Tamriel on their side. "Oh, were you interested in The Book of Fate there?"
"A little. Didn't want to be rude, of course." She held onto the two coins tightly as she tried to think of where to stow them until she could get to the bank.
"Oh don't worry. Let me tell you a bit about it. It was discovered in a secret room at the Arcane University. The writing in the book describes the destiny of its reader, so the words change from one person to the next." Weiss was very intrigued by that, but also wondered if it wasn't something like a fortuneteller's scam where it could be so loosely interpreted it could mean anything. "Some see only blank pages, and nobody knows why. Perhaps some of us are born with no destiny, or maybe the blank pages signify an imminent death."
'Oh, if carnivals were a thing in Tamriel you could run with them,' Weiss thought with a smile as she picked up the book and opened it. The first page was blank, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but then something changed. Lines of ink seemed to bleed into the pages, slowly creating a clearer picture, until she could make out the general outline of herself and some other creature facing each other. More lines joined, and she could see that it was definitely her, but she was holding a bow, and the arrow's tip shined brightly. The monster she faced was humanoid, with bat-like wings and claws, roaring at her in defiance. On either side of her two figures were drawn up, a woman and a wolf-like beast shaped like a Beowulf, but wearing armor.
'What the hell...'
When the page didn't change anymore, she flipped to the next and watched and waited. This one followed the same theme, only this time the creature they faced was the dragon from Helgen, likely the one in charge, Alduin. Rather than her at the forefront, Ruby was ahead of them all, Weiss and her teammates alongside her, and a group of warriors behind them. However, the picture never stopped changing. Or rather, Ruby's image didn't stop. One moment it was Ruby as she knew her, then the lines would darken, and more would come forward, and Ruby would be wearing jagged armor. Then it would shift again, and she'd be in thin, skintight leather with a feral look upon her face and a pair of sickles rather than Crescent Rose. The last change showed Ruby almost the same, but with a mouth open revealing fangs, and at that Weiss flipped the page, her heart hammering in her chest.
Following the theme once again, a creature formed and Weiss facing against it. Now it was something she couldn't identify. It was tall and lanky, humanoid, but covered with reptilian skin and large bull horns upon its head and a long tail behind it. Its mouth was open, revealing a horrible maw of fangs and sharp teeth and things that weren't supposed to be teeth, the line between flesh and bone never made clear. Empty eyes sat on its face, but within them seemed to be a piercing void. Weiss stood before it, hefting up a double-sided axe, only one side seemed like a normal battleaxe, while the other blade looked like a lumber axe. Frighteningly, no other figures showed up on her side, but the bleeding body of a dying child between the two foes did, a likeness of Myrtenaster lying beside her appearing soon after.
Wondering what could possibly be next, Weiss flipped the page, but then words started to appear.
Weiss Schnee went to Jarl Stormcloak to inform-
She slammed the book closed and took a deep breath. Calixto hummed beside her.
"Well, haven't seen anyone react like that before. I suppose you do have a destiny drawn out for you."
"I did. Literally, I did." She set the book down and took a few more calming breaths. "But…I saw one of my friends. Her image kept changing."
"Well, if that's the case, then she may have no destiny. Or rather, her destiny branches out, but it has an ultimate goal to it, meaning that wherever you saw her alongside you, she will be there, but how she gets there can vary."
Weiss gulped at that. One of those changes clearly showed Ruby as a vampire, and another made her look like a stereotypical evil overlord. If what Calixto was saying was true, then wherever life could take her could change her for the worse. She looked up at the man with a spark of interest.
"If you don't mind me asking, did you ever read it?"
"I did, once. You won't mind if I don't share too many details, but I saw that I would gain peace, in the end." He smiled at the thought. "Well, don't let me hold you up. Unless you want to see some other curiosities?"
"No thank you. I should move on. I have a lot to do and…a lot to think about."
"All right then. Have a good day, miss."
A quick talk with the impassioned Viola pointed Weiss, once again, to the Court Wizard Wuunferth. Seeing as he was one of the only mages in Windhelm, it actually made some sense, but Weiss wouldn't be jumping the gun just yet. Rather than go straight to Jorleif, Weiss decided to corner Wuunferth in order to get the truth out of him. While guards were hard to get a hold of, several Stormcloak Commanders wouldn't be leaving for some time. Including Runs-Through-Storms, Weiss was able to get the assistance of Commanders Bloodsguard, Rogir, and Terintver, a Dunmer. The four followed Weiss up into the palace and into the Court Wizard's work room, finding the old man grumbling while looking over several sheets of paper, which Weiss immediately noticed looked nothing like the notes she'd found. The notes in Hjerim had been old and tattered, despite being recently written, while the papers Wuunferth were working with were new and pristine. Still though, she had to be sure.
"Wuunferth," she called to him, making him turn towards them.
"Hm, what? What is it? What's this about?"
"I'm Weiss Schnee. I've been investigating the murders that have happened recently."
"You are?" he asked in surprise and curiosity. "Not sure what they're thinking, having a young girl chase down a killer of young girls. All right. You need my assistance or some such?"
"I have two accusations pointing to you as the possible killer." At that Wuunferth seemed startled. "On top of that, there's plenty of evidence found at a scene showing that the killer is using a necromantic ritual."
"Hold on, necromancy?!" Rather than frightened, he now looked offended. "I can't believe you'd come here accusing me of necromancy of all things. Why, I'm a good standing member of the College of Winterhold! They haven't allowed necromancy there in centuries."
Weiss blinked at that. "You're saying that you're currently a member?"
"Yes, I am. I may work for the Jarl and his Court, but I work with the College. Why?"
Weiss took the two notebooks from her pack and held them before her. "I found these at the scene. One of them has the killer's detailing of stalking Susanna, as well as mentioning that he'd left the college. If I can get people to back your statement… It won't completely clear you, but…"
"There's some more proof for you then. Look around. I never kept a journal. Never felt the need to jot down my own thoughts. Even these are just maths and drawings." He held up one page he was working on to show them that it was, indeed, a long math equation next to a drawing of a ruin opening. "Never so much as kept a journal my whole life. Even if I did feel the need to do so, I could have put together a blank book, not made…that rubbish."
That was pretty good reasoning in Weiss's mind, but she wasn't going to stop until she was certain. "And what about your amulet?"
"My what now?"
"I found an amulet. Calixto's holding it now. He said it was called The Wheelstone."
"Never heard of it." He hummed to himself. "Describe it to me. Just what did this…amulet look like?"
"Uh, let's see… It was an eight-sided jade ringed with ebony. There was a really worn carving on it."
"Ah, I know it well. Or at least, I've heard of it. I'd wager that carving once depicted a skull. What you just described to me is the Necromancer's Amulet, of legend."
The Commanders behind her shifted nervously. Even Storms was looking on with fear.
"You're talking about the Worm-King's jewel," the Argonian stated.
"Worm-King?" Weiss asked, just imagining what would cause people to give one such a moniker.
"Mannimarco, the most powerful necromancer to have ever lived, both in life and undeath," Wuunferth clarified as he stroked his bead. "He had manipulated Tamriel for well over a thousand years, avoiding death for so long, until finally the Hero of Kvatch put him down to save the Arcane University. Shame it didn't survive the war." Wuunferth sighed in disappointment. "Regardless, it appears you were at least half-right. There's necromancy at this thing's core."
"Then Calixto was wrong?" Weiss suggested.
"Eh, Calixto and his books are often confused about matters. Happens to the best of us.
"But then what can I do? I don't really have any other leads, and now the killer's just going to find a new nest to hide in. The only thing I've accomplished is setting him back. Arguably worse than nothing."
"Well, despite what your youthful arrogance would suggest, you weren't the only one investigating this," Wuunfferth said as he went over to a shelf and pulled out a book. "I've been noting a pattern to the killings, as well as the disappearances from the surrounding villages. Now that you've brought to light that they're tied to a necromantic ritual, we may just be able to find the very next time and place the killer will strike." He flipped through several pages and began following lines with his finger, mumbling as he read along. "From a Loredas of Last Seed to a Middas of Heartfire… It'll happen soon. Very soon." He looked up at the group, alarmed. "Keep watch at the Stone Quarter tonight. That's almost certainly where the killer will strike next."
"Thank you, Wuunferth." She looked back at the four Stormcloaks. "You all don't mind helping me once again?"
"As long as this ends with the killer caught," Rogir declared, "I'll heft a boat on my shoulders to Hammerfell if we need it."
"I'll gladly help," Runs-Through-Storms affirmed.
"Thank you. Please, meet me at the Great Hall before sunset. We need to come up with a plan to capture him." The four saluted and began making their way back. Storms paused and looked over at Wuunferth.
"Do not be offended when I ask that you remain by the Jarl's side the rest of the day. We are still unsure in these trying times."
"Well, no helping it I suppose. Let me grab a few things and have a word with the young lady here." The Argonian nodded and went along down the hall with the others. Wuunferth rolled up a few scrolls, got out a few inkwells, and picked up some quills. "So, you're a young mage right? Headed to Winterhold after this, I hear."
"That's correct. You said you're a member? What's it like?"
"Cold. Colder than here, anyhow. Most days are covered in snowstorms. As for the College, you'll find plenty of training, camaraderie, books. Also, don't be surprised when most of the teachers figure out that you're a vampire."
Weiss wanted to pull out her hair in frustration and scream, but doing so would just attract attention.
"How?! How do people keep figuring it out?" Weiss settled for a stomp instead.
"Well, for me, I cast detect life constantly. Bit of a habit from my traveling days, but it also lets me know when company's on its way. Doesn't show the undead of course, and since you're against necromancy here I can assume you're not some kind of lich or zombie. Obviously you're not out to kill either. Let's be clear though, you can't keep this from the Jarl. It won't do you any good, and it's better than him figuring out on his own."
"And if he decides to have me executed to keep me from being a threat?"
"From what I hear, you have friends in high places. A Thane of Whiterun? Possibly a friend of the Dragonborn? You could be Mannimarco's secret lovechild with the daughter of Jagar Tharn and the High Priestess of Mehrunes Dagon all on top of your vampirism, and they'll make an exception for you. Like I said though, letting him find out on his own will make it hard for him to trust you in the future. I doubt you want that." He left his workshop with his items and Weiss walked after him, a little fearful for the future.
Seeing as it wasn't quite sunset yet, but far too late to get a nap, Weiss decided to scope out the Stone Quarter under the pretense of shopping. The ebons were safely tucked away into their bank account, and she had withdrawn a denar, some malks, and septims. A few things caught her eye, like the stall where a man was selling meats, all of them frozen simply by the temperature. She could see a man forging and instructing a young woman on it as well. Spying the alchemy shop, she decided to step inside, figuring she needed to brush up on her alchemy and stock a potion or two anyways.
"I'll be fine," she heard a voice that was certainly not fine say as she entered.
"Master," a young man responded, "you're far too old for this sort of journey." Looking at who he was talking to, Weiss could see that the Altmer was certainly old, and considering his race, that could be well over a thousand years old. Multiple hundreds of years at the least. "We don't know what's inside."
"I'll…" He started coughing violently, but tried to keep speaking. "I can…" The coughs came stronger for a moment before letting up a bit. "…just…"
"You see! You're not well. Go have a seat and I'll fetch you some tonic."
The high elf wheezed out a laugh as he followed the younger man's instructions, the young man heading towards the back room.
"If there was a tonic that could help me," he got out as he sat, "I would've found it by now."
He looked over at Weiss with a small sound of interest. "Welcome, miss, to the White Phial."
"Were you arguing over something?"
"Ah, just a mer's life work, is all. I've finally derived the location of the White Phial, uh, the actual one, but this doting busybody here won't let me go get it."
Weiss thought over that a moment. At this point in her journey, she wasn't in a huge rush, and it wasn't like she hadn't taken detours before. "Well, maybe I could pick it up for you, if it's not too out of my way."
"You would…do that for me?" He seemed genuinely touched by the gesture and smiled. "It's good to know that there are some people in this world willing to help an old elf. It's buried with its maker, Curalmil, in a forsaken cave, to the west of here. Curalmil was a crafty one, even in death. You'd need the skills of a master alchemist to reach his resting place. Luckily, I've already made the mixture." He stood up and went over to his counter, then reached under and took out a bottle of something before handing it to Weiss. She looked it over in interest, finding it to be a cloudy green. "Don't…" he wheezed, "dally now."
"Maybe you should sit back down," she suggested. The high elf looked like he wanted to argue, but instead chose to go back to his seat and catch his breath. "What exactly is the White Phial?"
"A legendary bottle," he explained with wonder, "forged in the days when Skyrim was just starting its turn to ice. A small container, made of magically infused snow that first fell on the Throat of the World. It is said that the Phial will replenish whatever fluid is placed inside of it. For an alchemist like myself, it is the most pure expression of my art. To create from nothingness is…poetry."
"It sounds really important to you." The Altmer nodded at this
"It is. I've spent my whole life searching for it. It brought me all the way to these frozen reaches from the warm embrace of the Summerset Isles. Entire years spent in libraries. Seeking out tiny villages with local legends of but a hint of a whisper of the Phial. I even named my shop after it, hoping that it would attract anyone who'd ever heard of it. And now, it's within my grasp, but the Eight, it seems," a small cough came up "have chosen me for their amusement." He started coughing a little more. "For in my current condition, I'll never be able to lay my hands upon it."
Weiss frowned. "No, I'll do my best to get it for you. Um, where on the map should I go again?"
As the sun sunk below the horizon, Weiss waited patiently in an alley overlooking the Stone Quarter, the four commanders nearby. They had told the guards to skip over patrolling the area for the night, and just in case Weiss had asked Nilsine Shatter-Shield, the twin sister of Friga, if she would act as bait for the Butcher. While nervous, she was willing to help if it meant that they'd catch the killer of her sister. The last of the people in the market were clearing out when the sun was gone, and a few hours later, Nilsine walked in from the side. She began making calls for the family's pet cat, hoping that the seemingly natural action would further pull in the killer.
Weiss was beginning to wonder if the killer would even show, when she suddenly caught sight of Calixto wandering in. At first she felt annoyance, but then recalled how he'd misled her about the amulet.
'Wuunferth said he often gets confused, but how do you end up mistaking a famous amulet for one that…doesn't exist?'
Just as the thought crossed Weiss' mind and she began moving from her hiding spot, Calixto pulled a steel dagger from his side and readied it in a reverse grip as he snuck up on Nilsine. The Nord girl turned with a gasp and screamed as the man bore down upon her. As the dagger was plunged, Weiss leapt forward and caught it with her rapier, a loud clang sounding out as the weapons met. Calixto looked back in shock and turned to run, only to find his exits blocked by the four Stormcloak Commanders.
"Calixto Corrium," Commander Bloodsguard called out, "you are under arrest for crimes against Windhelm and her people. What say you in your defense?"
"Say what you want, but you're going to die you bastard!" Terintver hissed. "Either here on the snow or by the headsman!"
Calixto looked back and forth worryingly. He began to dash away and Weiss nearly bolted after him, but a lance of green magic went past her and hit Nilsine. Worried for the girl, she stopped and caught her, sighing when she realized it was a paralysis spell, if the frantic looking eyes of Nilsine dashing around told her anything. She went back just as Runs-Through-Storms popped out from the shadows and struck Calixto with his sword. The man screamed and flared his hands out, producing a stream of fire that forced the commander back and made Weiss pause in her chase once more. When Terintver and Rogir caught up they began extinguishing the flames with frostbite spells, but by the time it was clear they had no idea which way Calixto had ran.
"Damn it!" the Dunmer cursed. "May Mephala take his soul!"
"At least now we know who he is," Bloodsguard said. "Good striking him, Storms."
"Not good enough," the Argonian groaned. "Hm, can't quite make out anything."
Weiss smelled blood even through the smell of fire and went forward. Only a few feet away, and she already could visibly see the blood on the ice. "We have a trail!" The Stormcloaks went over to her and saw it as well. They all began running after the blood, soon coming onto Valunstrad, where people were beginning to come out of their homes to see what the commotion was about. The trail ended, once again, at the door of Hjerim.
"What a fool," Rogir growled. "Or maybe a mad genius. It's the first place we'd think to look, but the last we'd expect him to run to."
"Expectations don't matter here, we have him cornered." Bloodsguard readied his warhammer as he approached, but Weiss held out her arm.
"Wait a moment. You should all watch the doors and windows. Surround the house from all sides. Storms, get ready to chase him if he tries the sewers and goes for the bay. I've been inside the house before, so I'll know where to look."
"Good planning overall," Terintver agreed.
"I don't care who goes in, as long as Calixto comes out dead. Come on! I'll watch the back entrance. Rogir, take the south side. Storms, watch the front and get ready to jump down that manhole at a moment's notice. Miss Weiss, go ahead."
Weiss nodded and stepped into the building. The scent of fresh blood nearly overran the old blood, and she was able to easily follow him.
"I'm so sorry," she heard him muttering. "Sorry, but it's going to be so much longer now."
"Probably not as long as you think," Weiss said darkly, and then the man turned around to look at her in fear, the effigy behind him on the altar. She raised up Myrtenaster, ready the pierce the man and end him. "I don't care what you wanted to do, you went too far. How many people did you kill? How many mothers lost a child? How many children lost their mothers?! Do you even care?! Do you sleep well at night, figuring the one life you're trying to revive is worth it?!"
"You'd never understand," the man groaned as he brandished his dagger and readied his other hand to cast. "No one does."
With a feral snarl, Weiss struck forward, but a sudden flash of blue enveloped Calixto and her blade barely sunk a few centimeters into his shoulder. He grunted and struck at her, cutting the cloth of her sleeve, and then pushed his hands forward as he summoned sparks to strike her. Weiss cried out and spasmed as she backed away, her Aura stopping most of the damage, but unable to stop it from lancing her with pain or disrupting her manaflow. Calixto charged her and stabbed into her belly, but in a sort of reflection of her strike his blade barely got past her Aura before it was stopped. Surprised, he paused long enough for Weiss to wrap her arms around him and locked her fingers. He struggled to get away, but froze in fright when Weiss' eyes reopened yellow and her fangs were bared.
"Oh gods…"
Calixto didn't even have time to scream before Weiss bit down on his neck, punching through his magical armor, and then began drinking deeply. He struggled more, but as time went he weakened in his attempts. Weiss forced herself to stop and then dropped the body, gasping in sweet rapture at the taste of fresh blood. When she looked back down, her good mood quickly dissipated upon seeing only a light trickle of blood coming from the two holes on his neck, reminding her once again of what she was. She swallowed, and looked around, wondering what she could do, and then recalled the dagger-badge Jarl Ulfric had given her. She unsheathed it and carefully pressed it where it would hit the bite marks, then plunged it into the corpse's neck. Satisfied that the way she killed him was covered, she took the dagger out and looked at the blade hungrily. She shook her head and wiped it off on the murderer's clothes, then exited the building to give everyone the good news.
Blake woke up early in the morning, smacking her lips at the thought of the previous night's dinner. Most of the food in Riften was freshwater fish and some of the more water-demanding plants as well as honey, but she had no complaints. She was planning to try the honey-roasted trout with a side of grapes for breakfast as she walked downstairs, enjoying the quiet of the morning.
"Welcome back, sleeping beauty," a man said with a lecherous leer. Blake inwardly sighed in disgust and went over to the bar. From what she heard he was Maven Black-Briar's son. She figured if she could get out of town quick enough, she wouldn't have to worry about the consequences of shoving her possessed daikatana down his throat. Even dumb lechers figured it'd take more than one or two lines to get a girl to notice him.
"Don't mind him, he's just staring and posturing right now," Keerava tried to comfort her. "Already got your breakfast ready. Oh, and someone left a letter for you." She reached beneath the counter and set a piece of twice folded paper down with a wax seal on it.
"A letter? Has to be from Weiss." Wondering how fast couriers must be in Skyrim, Blake tried to break apart the wax.
"Oh, and have you heard? They found Grelod's body last night." She set the plate with Blake's food on it in front of her. "They say it looks like an accident. Just fell down and broke her neck against a chair."
"Oh, that's too bad," Blake responded nonchalantly, grabbing a kitchen knife to open the envelope.
"Yeah, I have nothing good to say about her, but I always figured she deserved something more-"
Blake screamed as she jumped back from out of her chair, the letter landing face up on the counter.
"Are you all-" Keerava stopped and gasped when she saw the black handprint on the letter and two simple words.
We know
"Oh Divines," the Argonian muttered as she clutched her collar.
Blake set out immediately after paying her tab and took her breakfast with her. She went at a constant jog, only slowing when she neared Vulgahrotru's territory, and then to hide within the forest cover, as she'd forgotten to trade in malks for septims. Surprisingly, the dragon didn't show up to toll her, but she did hear him and see him fly closer to Riften. At the very least, he could be snuck past. Once she was certain she was out of his radius, she started back at her forced march, not stopping again until the sun had begun to set. Her lungs felt like they were on fire and her legs felt like lead weights. She sighed in relief when she saw a few thatched buildings ahead. She practically stumbled into a place the sign denoted as the Braidwood Inn and fumbled over to the counter, surprising the inn keeper as she slapped down a malk.
"Oh well uh…"
Blake didn't bother waiting to listen and walked over to the nearest room, collapsing onto the bed, her body aching all the while.
"Can you shut the door, please," she asked from her prone position. The inn keeper just shrugged and closed the door for the girl. Blake let out a thankful groan and slipped into unconsciousness.
Yang gave a thumbs up and then a wave to Golldir and Agna Hillgrund as she left their family tomb.
"Bye guys. And next time, try to get professional help instead of running to go fight a necromancer on your own."
"We'll keep it in mind," Agna called to her. "We owe you so much!"
"Just buy me a hot meal next time you're in Whiterun."
"And a cold drink," Golldir added with a laugh. Yang waved back as she disappeared from the two's sight. "Oh, I sure am glad she stumbled upon us, Aunt Agna."
"Me too. Who knows what could have happened if she hadn't crashed through like that. I might have died."
Yang whistled as she opened her map and looked at it and her surroundings. After a short clairvoyance, she adjusted her course for the road and put her map away.
'I wonder what Ruby's been up to?'
"Fus!" Ruby Shouted upwards. As the pot started arcing down, she dashed over and shouted upwards again, sending it back into the sky.
"You know, I never thought anyone would actually train their control like that," Argneir admitted to his brothers, who all nodded as they watched the young Dragonborn trace and chase the pot before Shouting it back up. "I wonder if Tiber Septim did something similar in his youth."
Borris merely shrugged, watching Ruby dash after the pot once again.
"Fus! Ro!" Deciding to add a little extra 'oomph' to the shout, Ruby could only watch as the pot soared higher than previously, first in excitement then in horror as the pot's angle sent it soaring past the cliff edge, away from the monastery. Rubbing the back of her head, and hoping that pot wouldn't hit someone, she turned to see the mirth filled eyes of the Greybeards boring into her. "Heh, heh... Oops?"
"Probably trying not to fall asleep meditating again," Yang chuckled to herself as she adjusted her pack and continued on.
Weiss Schnee went to Jarl Stormcloak to inform him personally of the Butcher's demise. It was late at night, nearly morning, but the runner she sent ahead of her was fast and the Jarl was ready long before she got there. Wuunferth and Galmar stood on either side of him. They were the only ones present in the room, everyone else was fast asleep.
"So, it is done," the Jarl observed as Weiss came forward.
"Yes, Jarl Ulfric," she said with a bow. "The killer was Calixto Corrium. Four of your commanders and I caught him attempting to murder Nilsine Shatter-Shield, who bravely volunteered herself as bait. He then ran and entered Hjerim, despite my locking it, and went straight to the altar. We fought, and I killed him."
"Ah, very good. The city can sleep a little easier now. You've done Windhelm a great service, Miss Schnee, one that cannot go unrewarded."
Wuunferth made a motion, and Weiss tipped her head over at Galmar. The Court Wizard nodded and the heiress sighed, and closed her eyes.
"Sir, there's one more thing. I haven't been fully honest with you about myself. I was able to solve this case partly thanks to… Because I am a vampire." Weiss opened her eyes, revealing them to no longer be an icy blue, but a shining gold. Galmar stumbled and reached for his battleaxe, but Ulfric waved his hand towards his housecarl.
"Odd that you'd admit to that, but I appreciate the honesty. To be fair, one of my scouts suspected as much, but he was uncertain. I worked under the assumption that you were, but waited to see what you might do. As for what you have done, I'm impressed." The Jarl stood up and walked down the steps to his throne, but he was still head and shoulders over Weiss. "When I was fighting in the Great War, I once went forward on my own to find something to hunt and bring back. I stumbled upon two men fighting, but then one started shouting at the other about being 'kind-hearted' and 'weak', so I could easily tell who the villain was.
"I had walked into two vampires from competing clans fighting in their own war. But the difference between them was night and day. One clan was responsible, made sure not to bite for their blood, and tried to keep their kind under control. The other…well, they fit every fear mankind has about vampires. I saved one of the former, and killed one of those Cruelbloods.
"After that, I ran into several more, and found that vampires are not just some monsters prowling in the night. Like anyone, there are good and bad. The balance was just different. So I helped them. Started attacking the Cruelbloods hideaways, or leading Aldmer straight to them. The Kindred gave back. They started infiltrating our enemies for us, because of what I did for them. So, I know a vampire can be good, and after what you did, looking into a case not concerning you, delaying your planned travels, putting yourself in harm's way more than once, all to help my people, I know you are good."
Weiss felt inspired. She could definitely see now why so many people followed this man, even those who could easily feel mistreated or despised by him. Still, she had to hold back her praise for now.
"I thank you sir, from the bottom of my heart but… I know your overarching interest in me is to eventually bring me to your side, and then my friends." She looked up at him, seeing his expression unchanged, and held herself steady. "But before we go any further, I need to make something clear. We won't be joining this war. There are many reasons, but the most important is that we aren't from the Empire at all, and our power, and my friend's status, would essentially make any side we join the winners by default. I mean no disrespect, but I want it to be clear and not give you any false hopes of such."
"I understand completely," he went on as he walked back to his throne. "You're all defenders, dragon slayers. You're not soldiers." He sat back down and nodded to her. "And I can't force you to fight for me. Conscripts make for poor soldiers anyways, something the Thalmor will one day learn first-hand. Still, I aim to reward you for your service, and with the highest honor I can. Weiss Schnee, I name you Thane of Eastmarch, and give you all the benefits of such a station. Keep my dagger as your permanent badge of office."
Weiss was shocked by this. "Tha- But I-"
"If I might, my Jarl?" Wuunferth asked. Ulfric nodded towards him and the Court Wizard looked back to her. "Thanehood is not limited to a single Hold, rather, each Hold has a separate list of Thanes. You could, if you put forth the effort, become a Thane of all Nine Holds, essentially a Thane of all Skyrim. Also, you're not the servant of the Jarl of the Hold, you're a servant of the Hold itself. That's why you're a Thane of Whiterun, not a Thane of Balgruuf. Serving a person directly makes you a housecarl, like Galmar over there."
Said housecarl grunted, but nodded.
"I see. I…understand. I graciously accept."
"As well, I also assign Calder to be your housecarl. I doubt you'd want him traveling with you for now, so he can stay at your new property, Hjerim."
That really surprised Weiss. "H- Hjerim? The manse?"
"The Shatter-Shields sold it to Windhelm after the death of their daughter. They haven't been able to move back, and barely go near it. And, you will need somewhere for you and the other three to lay your heads when you come by Windhelm. I'd rather it be easier for you than not. We may need you all well rested in the case of a dragon attack."
"I can't…thank you enough, my Jarl. This is much more than I ever expected."
"I thought it might be. You're dismissed for now. I'm certain you want to get your rest and head on to the College as quickly as possible."
Weiss bowed and left the palace. Galmar watched as she left, then sighed.
"Are you sure we could just let her go like this? I'd hate to see her on the enemy's side."
"We'd push her to the Imperials if we tried to force or coerce her. We also know she's not the strongest. If we did anything, the other three could come crashing down on our heads. My Voice may be strong, but I'd rather not test it against the likes of the Dragonborn." He leaned back and smiled lightly. "Besides, it's not us they aren't joining, it's 'the war'. I'd much rather they all be neutral, than even one side with the Imperials. Because if they aren't joining them, how long until the Imperials realize they aren't with us?"
Blake's eyes fluttered open. Everything looked blurry. Everything felt heavy. Her mind felt hazy.
"Wake up," a voice whispered to her, making her turn towards the source. She blinked a few times and her vision cleared. If she had the energy, she would have screamed, because sitting casually on a shelf was a woman in black and red leather armor, her face hidden behind a mask.
"Sleep well?"