Posted this rather quickly last night. We wanted it on Spacebattles before we went to do our things (movies for Trest, work for me). Luckily, thanks to NaanContributor, you guys get the refined version the first time. Still, let's give thanks to xTRESTWHOx for keeping me from adding at least ONE stupid cliche, and probably a dozen more through this story.
Despite being gifted a lovely abode, Weiss elected to sleep once again in Candlehearth Hall. Given Hjerim's present condition, no one could blame her. She did, however, stop by the mansion on her way to the palace, having already selected which furnishings she wanted, and met her new housecarl there. Calder was a rather unremarkable looking Nord, but so had Lydia when she first met her, and that woman turned out to be all right. While she wasn't comfortable traveling with him, that didn't mean she wasn't willing to give him a chance.
"Now Calder, while I'm gone I expect you to look after Hjerim. Make sure no one breaks in and keep things in order. Here's the spare key," Weiss commanded as she handed the housecarl the key.
"Of course, my Thane," Calder replied with a thump to his chest, something Weiss had learned was a traditional Nordic salute.
"Thank you," Weiss nodded then turned to leave, but paused at the door. "... Are you sure that you are okay with merely guarding Hjerim? I would imagine that a warrior like yourself would feel like his talents are being misplaced."
"Not at all, my Thane. While I will admit that I would much rather take the field by your side, given your...condition, I can see why you would be uncomfortable. Speaking of which, I have taken the liberty of donating a few pints of blood and have placed them inside your knapsack," Calder admitted. "Not enough to leave me drained, but enough to get you to Winterhold, at least."
"Thank you, Calder," Weiss wasn't that surprised that Ulfric had let Calder know that detail.
"Besides, guarding the home of a Thane is the longest held tradition with being a housecarl." At Weiss' raised eyebrow, Calder laughed. "What, you didn't think housecarl's were always bodyguards, right? Housecarls, when first brought over from Atmora, merely kept their master's homes. Becoming their bodyguard came later. It's in the name, after all."
"...You know, that makes a lot of sense, actually," Weiss hummed in realization. "Well, it looks like Hjerim's in good hands. Until next time, Calder."
"By your honor, my Thane," Calder saluted, making Weiss smile as she opened the door and headed outside into the cold
Certain that everything was in order, she headed to the Palace of the Kings, but stopped short as she ran across Wuunferth.
"About to say goodbye, hm?" he asked as he stepped alongside her.
"Jarl Ulfric has been more than gracious to me. I will thank him personally before I head on to Winterhold."
"Good. It's good to see the young still have manners. So, while you're headed that way, I have something." He pulled a sack from his side and handed it over to her. "We confiscated a lot of things from Calixto and his house, including a journal, and the Book of Fate of all things. Apparently, he saw that he would reunite with his sister, the very one he was trying to revive. Heh, wasn't too specific on how though, was it?" He cleared his throat after a short laugh. "Anyways, deliver those to the Archmage, Savos Aren. He'll take good care of them. Also, we recovered this." He pulled forth the jade amulet from before, only now Weiss could clearly see the skull carving on it. "That 'wear' you saw was some resin he used to disguise it. Cleared it off easily enough. This truly is the Necromancer's Amulet. It can focus one's power in the arts of Conjuration, especially the necromantic, far beyond their scope, and expands the magicka threshold more than I've seen any amulet do. Sadly, useless in the hands of the living, as it also causes the life force to be drawn away, making it harder to heal and replenish one's energy. A cut that could normally heal in a day will keep bleeding for a week if I were to wear this. I think you should have it."
He passed it over and Weiss held the amulet in her hands, staring at it dumbly. "Me? But you just said that-"
"You're undead. You don't have an actual lifeforce for it to disrupt. You can have all of its positive effects without any of the drawbacks. Feel free to pass it to Archmage Savos with all those other things if you want, but in my opinion, something useful should be used, so long as it's safe. That thing's safe for you, and it'll let you bring up familiars and elementals far easier. Maybe even a bound weapon, seeing as you like to keep a blade on you."
"Oh, well, thank you, I suppose." Weiss turned the amulet about in her hands before pocketing it, figuring wearing such a necklace at this time would be in poor taste.
"Another thing. Normally I wouldn't do this without you proving it to my face, but I've been assured you're talented by Ulfric's eyes and ears." He handed her an envelope, which was addressed to Savos Aren. "A letter of recommendation for you. Should make it simple for you to get in. Most prospective students have to practice a spell for weeks until they can show that they're suitable for the College. Like I told you before, I'm in good standing, so they'll take my word for it. Don't make me look like an idiot for this."
"I would never dream of it," Weiss beamed.
The two entered the Great Hall and Weiss curtsied while Wuunferth gave a short bow to Jarl Ulfric. The Court Wizard began heading towards his work station while Weiss remained. Along with Weiss and the Jarl, the commanders from last night were all present, most looking a little tired.
"I will be leaving soon. I just wanted to thank you one last time before I move on."
"It is us who should be thanking you, Thane Weiss," Ulfric responded. "I hope that you shall come around again. Perhaps one day I could even meet your other fellows?"
"Perhaps. I imagine they'll come through Windhelm at some point. At the very least if they ever wish to visit me at the College they'll come through."
"I look forward to the day. Well then, I wish you safe travels. Whatever knowledge you're looking for in Winterhold, I hope it finds you. Talos watch over you, Thane."
"And may the Nine smile on you, my Jarl." Weiss curtsied once again and made to leave.
"Thane Weiss," she heard and turned to look back at Runs-Through-Storms. "Good luck." She saw his eyes smiling, and she smiled back.
As she exited the palace and past the city gates, the guards, who once looked at her in suspicion, now looked at her with respect. Most nodded at her, while a few saluted, lifting Weiss' spirits higher. Reaching the road, Weiss paused and looked south towards Riften.
'I wonder how Blake is doing? I hope she's alright.'
Blake's heart pounded in her chest, and her head pounded from something else. Her breathing quickened, and then the assassin…giggled, which was arguably the most terrifying thing yet.
"Whe- Where-" Blake found that even speaking was harder. She swallowed, and tried reaching for her weapon, only to find her arms were as wobbly as her voice.
"Don't be so worried," she gently assured the faunus. "If I wanted to kill you, we wouldn't be speaking right now."
"Where…am I?"
"Does it matter? You're warm, dry,…and still alive. That's a lot more than can be said for old Grelod, isn't it?" Blake only felt her fear increase as the Brotherhood assassin laughed again. "I will admit, you did a very excellent job making it look like an accident. No one even expected it was you, despite being the last to see her alive. Not even the barkeep. A nice touch with the slipper."
"I… I didn't…" Blake winced and took a deep breath. "Why…so hard…?"
"Oh that would be the potion. Couldn't have you waking up in the middle of it all, could I? I had to get everything set up for us. Take a look."
Blake managed to look behind herself and gasped. There were three people, each of them with black hoods tied over their heads and their hands bound together and tied to the floor behind them, a man, an older woman, and a male Khajiit.
"Let's be clear, the Black sacrament was performed, and so that means the one the Aretino boy wanted dead was a kill meant for the Brotherhood. A kill that you stole. A kill that must be repaid." Blake gulped in fear, scared to death of where this was going "So, here I have a little test. There's a contract on one of these poor souls' head. Speak with them, get to know them, find out who it is, and repay your debt. A life for a life."
"I... I won't...kill for you..." Blake struggled to convey, at which the assassin darkly laughed.
"I don't think you have much of a choice, at the moment. Someone in this shed has to die. I suggest you don't make me choose for you."
Blake's mind was swirling around in her head. She wanted her to kill one of these people, and wanted her to kill the right one? Blake gulped and clenched a fist, finding that her strength was slowly returning. Whatever potion she used was fading away. She just needed a little more time. The faunus pulled herself to her feet and stumbled over towards the man. She knelt before him, and the man's head moved around in fear.
"Hello?" his muffled voice tried to call out. "Please, who's there? I'll give you whatever you want! If it's about the raid from last week, I told Holgrim there was no honor in it! No honor in killing men in their sleep! I swear I-"
"Calm down," she told him. "Calm down. Tell me who you are."
"I- My name is Fultheim. I'm a soldier, er, a mercenary, really. Lived in Skyrim my whole life. That's all! I'm just a nobody! Please, let me go!"
"Would someone pay to have you killed?"
"Would…? Oh gods… Please," he sobbed, "I don't want to die!"
"Shh, just tell me. It'll be all right."
"I don't know. I mean, I'm a soldier. I've killed, when ordered to. Maybe… Maybe sometimes I got carried away. But…that's war, right? I can't… They can't blame me for that!"
Blake grunted as she picked herself up and went over to the woman. "What did I do?" she heard him faintly. "Please, whatever it is, I'm sorry!"
"Is someone there?" the older woman asked as she kneeled next to her. "Get these things off of me!" she demanded.
"Can you tell me who you are?"
"That's none of your damned business!" the woman decried. "If you're going to kill me, just do it already! Mara as my witness, if this hood wasn't on I'd spit right in your face!"
"Would someone pay to kill you?" Blake was feeling the eyes of the assassin bore into the back of her head, but she pressed on, trying to pump her Aura up.
"Excuse me, what kind of question is that?"
"It's all right. Just tell me what I need to know to get us through this."
The lady scoffed. "I'm a woman living in Skyrim with six children and no husband. I have no time or patience for being 'nice'. Do people look down on me? Have I made enemies? You're damned right they do and I have!"
"Thank you," Blake muttered before she moved on to the Khajiit. The woman groaned, more in anger than anything else, and then she was in front of the Khajiit man.
"Whoever this is, we appear to have clearly got off on the wrong foot," he said with confidence. "Ah, but no worries. This is not the first time I've been bagged and dragged."
"Who are you?"
"Ah! Vasha, at your service," he told her as though having a pleasant conversation. "Obtainer of good, taker of lives, and defiler of daughters." Blake rolled her eyes at this, and then flexed her left arm, finding that most of her control was already back. "Have you not heard of me? Perhaps I will have my people carve my name into your corpse as a reminder." His words steadily got more venomous, letting Blake know that he was taking this at least somewhat seriously, though still with more confidence than she believed he should.
"I guess there's no point asking if anyone would pay an assassin to go after you."
"True enough. The real question is 'would anyone pay to have me killed…again?' I have lived in death's shadow every day. A knife behind every doorway. A notched arrow on every rooftop. I would be insulted if there was an enemy of mine that wasn't trying to kill me."
"I see. Thank you."
"Tell you what," Vasha continued as Blake stood up, "you release me, and I promise to not have my associates hunt you down."
She looked over them all and clenched and unclenched her hand before drawing Gambol Shroud.
"So, which one will it be?" the assassin asked her as her eyes went over each one. Her grip on her ballistic sickle-sword was loose, and trying to tighten her grip didn't last long, but each attempt lasted longer than the last.
"An assassin was sent after me and a friend," she told the woman. "We know it was the Brotherhood that sent them."
"Yes, someone offered a handsome sum for you and your three friends. Yet, you all survived. We were still weighing the cost and benefits before this came up." She pulled a dagger from her side and began flipping it between her fingers. "Perhaps we can come to an arrangement to break off the contracts on you all."
Translation; kill for us, and we won't kill you. Blake took a deep breath and thought it over. The safety of her team was her priority, but what if she got this wrong? Vasha seemed the most likely, but his presence was almost too obvious. Fultheim almost believed someone was out for him after some sort of raid. The woman didn't seem likely at all, but her attitude reminded her of Grelod, a woman who also had a contract out on her. She could have been just as horrible a mother as Grelod was a caretaker. But then Vasha freely admitted that there were many people that wanted him killed as a daily occurrence. The chance that at least one of them did it with the Black Sacrament was more than likely. Then, there was the fact that someone could've lost a loved one to Fultheim, perhaps in a dishonorable way that the average Nord in Skyrim would've seen as reason enough to put a contract on him in retribution.
"You could kill them all. That will get the right one."
'No, I won't do that! I don't want to kill any of them!'
"You need to kill at least one person."
Blake's hand shook, her weapon clattering a bit as it did. She looked between each of them, trying to figure out who it could be, trying to see if the assassin hadn't lent her any clues to the identity of the right one. She felt her Aura rising up slowly, having finally pushed the poison from her system, and then her hand stilled and her mind made.
"Made a choice?"
"Yeah." Blake whipped around and fired.
"Now the key to Whirlwind Sprint, Dragonborn, is to see where you will be going before you move. To feel, and then act upon that feeling," Argneir explained, once again in the castle courtyard, only this time without the company of the other Greybeards. Lydia herself was with the others in her own meditation, wanting to further understand what her Thane was doing. Ruby closed her eyes in deep thought and imagined her surroundings, the snow and stone that covered the court, and the gate in front of her, before opening her eyes once more.
"Wuld!" Ruby Shouted and shot forward at blinding speed, only to stop suddenly right in front of the closed gate. She smiled and turned to look at Argneir, who smiled back, only to stop once Ruby's smile broke and was replaced with one of worry.
"You seem troubled. May I ask what is wrong?" Argneir gently asked Ruby, who began walking towards him. Ruby stopped herself near Argneir and took in a breath of air, releasing it slowly.
"I'm still kind of worried about that pot. What if it hit someone?"
"Don't worry, young Dragonborn," the Greybeard speaker assured her. "The chances of it hitting someone are near nonexistent. More likely it just landed somewhere on the mountainside, or in the forests below if it made it that far. I highly doubt anyone will ever see it, much less be harmed by it."
"So then I came across this body, pretty sure he was a thief because he had a silk bag full of gems, but the head was busted wide open, and nearby was a cast iron pot with bits of his head on it."
"What? You're joking," Vilkas objected to Yang's tale.
"No, really. Someone brained that guy with a pot. Unless it fell off the mountain, but then he'd just have to have had the worst luck on the planet."
"Maybe his wife had finally had enough," Aela joked as she joined up with the two. "The Khajiits brought something back from the Eldergleam Sanctuary by the way."
"Oh good, that means Blake and Weiss were able to…" Yang looked forward to see a small tree, about as tall as she was and not even as wide as her calf.
"They brought back a sapling. Danica was a little upset at first, but decided to take what she was given, especially after the cat boy told her how Kynareth herself seemed to make the sapling sprout up for them. Now the old Gildergreen's wood is being made into a pavilion with an outdoor altar just outside the walls and near the forest. Heard she's thinking of calling it the Windshade."
"Well that's pretty cool," Yang admired. "No tree lasts forever, anyways. Better to make good use of it than let it go to waste."
The three Companions walked into Jorrvaskr and then down towards Kodlak's room. Skjor and Farkas were waiting alongside the Harbinger, and Aela and Vilkas moved to stand alongside them. The Circle complete, they all directed their gaze towards Yang.
"Well, Yang, I can assume that your first mission was a success?" Kodlak knowingly asked, to which Yang sighed.
"Well, I got rid of the bears for Temba," Yang told them. "And…then some..."
"We heard about the werebear," Skjor told her. "Heard you brought it back covered in burns, dents, and full of broken bones, but that you yourself looked scuffed up as well. They say they gave you a treatment. Did it work?"
"Well, I haven't turned furry on the way here, and I'm not craving salmon, berries, or honey any more than usual, so I guess I'm fine," Yang joked, earning a soft chuckle from Farkas, who was quickly silenced by a glare from Vilkas and Skjor. Clearing his throat, Kodlak continued.
"Could you tell us how you came across it?" Kodlak asked. "Where was it, and what was it doing?"
"It… He was out in the forest. He sounded like he was in pain, and I offered to help, but he started shouting about danger and ran into the cave. I went in expecting to find him in the back or stumbling on another bear, but then I heard… It sounded like meat being torn and bones cracking. When I caught up, I thought the werebear was just an extra-large bear that had killed and eaten him." She scratched the back of her head. "It didn't seem like it'd be too out there. Back home, we have these things called Ursa. They're not really bears, but very bear-like. They're part of a group of demon-like creatures we call Grimm. The werebear reminded me of those more than anything."
"So you had to fight it," Farkas rightly guess. "How'd that turn out?"
"He was tough. Way tough. Most of the bears weren't really much trouble, but he could take a hit and dish it out as well. Kinda sluggish, at least compared to me, but his strength more than made up for it. I think we knocked over three or four trees just by fighting. Nearly tore my head off, too. I killed him, but it was hard going."
"And what'd you think of it?" Aela asked. "About the werebear? In fact, werebeasts in general, how do you view them after fighting one yourself?"
"View them?" Yang closed her eyes and sighed. "It's…terrifying. The idea that you could be trapped in your own body like that…while it goes out looking to kill."
"That is indeed a truly terrifying thought, not having control of your own body," Kodlak nodded in understanding. "I notice you didn't say anything about the man himself. You don't hate him or anything?"
"No, how could I? The guy wanted me to get out of there. He was…afraid he'd kill me. He didn't want to do that. If anything, I feel sorry for him. If I knew it was him when I was fighting him, I might've been a little more hesitant, but…I would've still stopped him, put him down if I had to. He was dangerous, and within walking distance of a populated village. The werebear part of him could've slaughtered most, if not all of the people living there."
"Ah, so it was the beast, not the man, that you fought," Kodlak clarified. "But what if you ran into another? If you came across another werebear or a werewolf, yet they seemed in control of themselves?"
"Well, if they aren't hurting anybody, then there's nothing to worry about, right?"
"I suppose so," Kodlak smiled at Yang, along with the rest of the Circle. "That is a very mature way of thinking Yang, not seeing the world in black and white. It will carry you far." At Kodlak's praise, Yang beamed. "Now then, go ahead and help yourself to whatever you want from the food hall. You more than deserve it. We'll get you your share and see about getting you a new mission soon."
"Thank you, Harbinger." She saluted from her forehead, and then thought about it before thumping an arm across her chest and nodding before heading back up into the main hall. As she disappeared from view, Farkas moved to close the door behind her, leaving them isolated from the rest of the mead hall, and in total privacy.
"Well, she's got a rather good head on her shoulders," Vilkas said to the others.
"Even if that bear did nearly rip it off like she said," his brother agreed.
"She's brave, thoughtful, and looked at the situation from each angle she could," Kodlak mused. "When she thought she was fighting a simple beast, she fought it to stop it, both to avenge the man she thought had been killed by the beast, and defend the villagers as well. When she learned the truth, rather than cling to regret, she accepted what she'd done, as well as how it may have been necessary either way. I think she would make an exemplary Companion. Perhaps even a Circle member one day."
"I think she's nearly ready," Aela added in, thinking back on how Yang looked when she explained how she felt about the werebear. "She's a lot more responsible than we originally assumed. That one-off with her friends and her drinking too much and ending up on the other side of Skyrim seems to have been just that, a one-off thing."
"Aye," Skjor agreed, "and the first thing she did when they got back was look for her sister, and then immediately went to find her. And the others trust her to be the one to hold down the fort, so to speak, while Ruby trains under the Greybeards and the others go up to Winterhold. She's the only one on her own. That's a lot of trust to give one person."
"Maybe she's Circle material, but I don't know if she's up for…all of it," Farkas explained. "We could probably leave her out of that much, right?"
"Every member of the Circle gets the Gift," Aela countered. "That's how it's worked for centuries. Besides, you heard her. I don't think I ever heard someone speak for the sake of a werebeast like that, especially not after fighting one to the death. If anyone could use it, it's her."
"Perhaps Aela," Kodlak noted. "But it's still early to tell. We should take the time to think it over better now that we know what we know. Vilkas, wasn't Amren looking for someone to get his sword back?"
"Ah, should be a quick and easy trip for her. I'll let her know then."
"'Til then, let's let the facts of the matter show themselves to us. We have some other concerns to tend to."
"I'll see if I can't verify the rumors," Aela said as she headed off.
As she'd half expected, Blake's shot missed. Or rather, the assassin dodged it, the bullet harmlessly impacting the wall where she'd been. Without wasting a word, she rushed Blake with her dagger, a black, double-edged blade with gold filigree that had gained a red tint, likely from use as much as age. Blake parried her to the side, but the killer was quick to recover and sliced at her, forcing the faunus to step back. Blake felt something against her leg and stepped away, recalling that there were three people helplessly bound on this battlefield.
"What's going on?!" she heard the mother shrilly scream.
The assassin came at her with a low stab, but she was able to get the cleaver half of Gambol shroud down in time to block. She attempted to behead the murderer, but she easily ducked and then came back with another dagger in her off-hand, this one single-edged, black, and with silvery etching. Blake blocked several strikes aimed for her with both her blades and tried hitting back, but even hits she made were little more than shallow cuts, and already she could feel what little Aura she had was nearly gone.
She leaped out of the way of a downward strike, but then the double-edged dagger swiped in from her left, breaking through her weakened Aura and slicing just under her rib. Blake cried out and backed away as she saw something flow into the killer, and the small wounds she made seemed to close with the energy.
"Such a shame," the assassin said as she came at her again. Blake desperately tried to fight back, but the cramped quarters gave her no real maneuvering room, and her opponent kept pushing her to the walls. She felt the other blade rake her arm and screamed as it sent jolts of electricity through her. With her off-balance, the assassin kicked her sword from her hands, sending it across the room. She tried to block with her sheathe, but then one dagger snaked around and stabbed into her gut. She felt it drain away part of her energy before she got away, backpedaling to the middle of the room again, clutching her wound to stem the bleeding.
"That dagger is nothing compared to my Blade," she heard.
Once again the assassin charged at her, this time striking towards her neck with both daggers. They sunk into her throat, but then the image of Blake disappeared. The assassin's eyes went wide as she turned to the sound of a blade being drawn. Blake nearly tore the Ebony Blade from the polished sheath Ruby had made for it and swung from her right. The assassin blocked with her left, but the Ebony Blade shoved against her and then bit into her arm. It carved through flesh and bone, severing the limb from the body. It continued on, cutting between ribs, through the bottoms of her lungs, and then out the other side of her chest, only to slice through half of her right bicep, biting the bone as it passed through. The killer's eyes went wide as she feel to her knees, one arm gone and the other useless. She dropped her dagger to the floor and tried to breathe, only to find her lungs wouldn't follow her commands.
"…well…done," she managed before collapsing forward, blood pooling around her corpse. Blake took a moment to catch her breath, but then smiled as an ecstatic feeling overcame her. She couldn't describe it, but something was sending a tingling up her spine that caused her to shiver in delight. It was a feral feeling that made her look towards her weapon that had slain her foe, watching as the blood that had fallen upon it seemed to wisp away into the metal as the wounds on her body sealed up, the hole in her belly shrinking. Suddenly she snapped herself out of it and shook her head.
'That…was the first time…I ever used it,' she realized with a deep gulp. 'It felt… I felt amazing.'
Now she shivered in fear, now fully understanding just why this thing had been locked up in the first place. Shaking her head and with steady breaths, she sheathed the Blade and looked back at the dead assassin.
"Well done, indeed."
Blake went over and picked up the black and reddish gold dagger. Woe was etched onto its pommel. She took the sheath for it from the killer's belt and fastened it to her side before recollecting Gambol Shroud's halves. Done with that, she went over and began untying the prisoners in the same order she'd spoken to them. Fultheim slowly pulled off his hood once he was free and looked to the corpse before them. The woman was a little more hasty, but when she saw the body she covered her mouth and retched. Vasha remained calm and sneered at the killer's body.
"Oh, so that was a battle Vasha heard. Well then, seems I owe you a debt, and an apology." The Khajiit stood and brushed himself off. "In hindsight, your questions make much more sense."
"What was this all about?" the woman shrieked. "Who- Is that a Dark Brotherhood assassin? Why?"
"They were after me before," Blake explained. "I…accidentally killed one of their targets and she was… I'm not sure what she wanted. Trying to recruit me? Getting some sort of sick pleasure from making someone else kill?"
"Whatever the cause, she is dead now," Vasha said as he picked through her pockets. He pulled forth a key with a satisfied sigh and went over to the door. Once it was unlocked, he stepped out and was closely followed by the other two. Blake paused a moment and took the hood from the assassin, seeing a woman who, while pretty, would have looked like any other Nord woman. She probably could have seen her in her periphery and never really noticed.
"Wait a second..." Blake squinted her eyes before widening them in slight recognition. "The woman sitting alone... She was there the whole time..." Shivering at the thought, she pocketed the hood and stepped outside.
"Swamps," Vasha stated in observation of their surroundings. "Hjaalmarch, most likely. Closest city would be Morthal. Must have teleported me."
"Going by the faint smell of salt, Morthal should be to the south," Fultheim added. "Maybe a few hours away at most."
"Well, let's get out of here," the woman said and she began walking. "I got to get home to my children."
"That's east," Fultheim warned.
"I know that, but I ain't swimming through that swamp water!"
"Quite a batty one," Vasha stated as he began walking. He looked over to Blake and nodded. "After this, I meant it when I say I owe you greatly. I may be a low-down good-for-nothing, but I make sure to pay my debts whenever I accrue them."
"I'll keep it in mind. Where would I find you if I needed you?"
"Riften, most likely. Solitude on other days. Just mention me in the rougher areas, and people will either threaten to gut you or bring you to me. The second sort work for me, the first sort is about an even split."
"Great," she deadpanned.
They made it to Morthal with little incident, though the woman, who finally let them know her name was Alea Quintus, complained most of the way there. Fultheim and Blake were annoyed by it, but Vasha seemed to find it entertaining. Whether it was because he was used to being surrounded by yes-men and quivering underlings and was just refreshed by her attitude, or because he found the other two's annoyance entertaining, he did not say. Blake headed straight for the guardhouse while Fultheim and Alea gave their testimonies to a few guards at the edge of town, Vasha skipping over the guards and looking for the stables.
Stepping into the guardhouse, Blake looked around for the most important looking one of them. Upon seeing him, currently signing papers at a desk, she marched straight up to him, causing his attention to be redirected, slightly annoyed. "Good afternoon, miss. What can I help you with?"
"I had a run-in with a Dark Brotherhood assassin," At this, the captain's attention was wholly focused on her, previous task completely forgotten. "I don't know who she was, but I think she might have been one of the higher-ups, maybe their leader. She's dead in some shack in the middle of the swamps." She showed him the hood and the dagger, and the guardsman gasped.
"If what you're saying is true… You should take this information straight to Commander Maro of the Penitus Oculatus. He'll know what to do better than I. I'll have some men go see this shack. Can you give better directions?"
"A man named Fultheim can help you find it better than I can. He's talking to some guardsmen at the entrance right now. Where can I find Commander Maro?"
"At the Penitus Oculatus headquarters in Dragon Bridge." The captain practically leapt out of his seat. "Please, get the information to him post-haste. I'm going to go speak to this Fultheim."
As the guard captain left to speak to the mercenary, Blake went over to an alchemist store and downed a poison cure and healing potion. As what few wounds remaining on her healed and the remainder of the poison flushed from her system, she started marching out, checking her map to see that Dragon Bridge was directly west along the road. She stowed the map away and prepared herself for another long jog across a long stretch of land. Her mind had only one thought.
'I'm going to kill them all!'
Looking at her map, the 'Forsaken Cave' was not far from her path to Winterhold. The road went almost directly to it. She'd just have to go a little further west at the fork, and then the cave would be around there. After that it was only a few minutes of backtracking and she'd be back on track to Winterhold. As she trekked on, she saw a group of three people wearing robes, gauntlets, and shin guards, each of them with a weapon at their side, two men with maces, and the woman with an axe. She waved at them, but then they started looking at her with apprehension. Curious, she approached.
"Excuse me, are you all-"
"Die, abomination!" the woman screamed as she pulled out her axe and made a heavy swing. Weiss yelped and leapt out of the way.
"Damn it, Re, I said wait!" one man yelled as they took out their maces and readied themselves to cast. Weiss drew Myrtenaster and watched out for her assailants.
"What are you doing?!" Weiss shrieked as she prepared to block another strike from the woman.
"Putting you down, monster!" she yelled before swinging again. This time Weiss parried and elbowed the woman in the face, smashing her nose painfully. She ducked under a man's mace and flipped, kicking his jaw, and snapping his head back. As he stumbled back the other came at her, but he was more cautious than the other two. He tried to swipe her legs out from under her, but she jumped over the attempt and jumped forward, knocking him down with a shoulder charge. The woman came back at her and Weiss flipped the troublesome girl over and onto her back. The man she'd kicked held out a hand and shot out flames towards her, which Weiss screamed in panic at and jumped out of the way. Unfortunately, his unconscious fellow was now on fire.
"Re!" the other screamed as he tried to put out the flames. Weiss fired out a cone of frostbite at them, putting the flames out for him as well as quickly chilling him to the bone. Her knee came around into his head as her rapier parried away the other's mace. She pirouetted and kicked out at the other, knocking him flat onto his back. He tried to get up, but Weiss placed Myrtenaster's tip at his throat.
"You attacked me," she growled.
"You're undead," he spat. "A filthy vampire!"
"I can't help that! Do you think I wanted to be a vampire? Go back to praying in a monastery somewhere. You aren't any good as a fighter anyways." She pulled away and continued on her journey. "You were probably closer to killing your own teammate than me anyhow."
"What? Where- Where are you going?" the warrior-monk shouted at her as he pulled himself up. "You didn't kill me, why?"
"I have no time to waste on imbeciles," she called back to him, seeming to stun him there. Eventually he disappeared in the white horizon with the other two. Weiss felt aggravated by it for a long while, but eventually figured that such things were to be expected.
'Guess those were some of those Vigilants of Stendarr. They were practically nothing to me, but I would be worried if they had anyone in their ranks with skill to their name. Well, not for me, but it would be much harder to non-lethally take down someone highly skilled, and I'd rather not kill someone for doing what they really think is right. Still, someone needs to do something about these preconceptions on vampires. It's probably the only reason there are 'bad ones' in the first place. That and the daedra, but that's something else entirely.'
Eventually she came upon the cave, but then a white bear made its presence known by roaring at her. Weiss readied her rapier, and when the bear charged she could only sigh. A quick thrust into its heart ended its life quickly, though the bear did struggle against the inevitable as its life faded. With that, Weiss entered the cave to find a few human bones next to the broken remains of a cart. Wondering about them, another snow bear nearly rounded on her, but luckily she was able to duck under its paws and slashed out at its throat. It's fur and fat were thick, though, so slashing did not seem as effective as piercing. Backing up, she aimed once again and went for the chest. With that bear dead, she pushed forward into the icy cavern and around a bend, where a third bear reared up on its haunches and roared.
"How many…" she wondered aloud before unleashing a shower of sparks at the beast. It twitched and tried to bat the electricity away, and the distraction was enough for Weiss to stab it through the eye and into its brain. Grumbling about bears, Weiss went on and saw an ancient iron doorway surrounded by some ruins embedded in the ice. She pushed the doors open and stepped inside before going down a spiral staircase, her sense of adventure beginning to take hold. She nearly missed a flagstone that triggered a trap, likely darts going by the structure ahead of her.
'I wonder if there are some…other treasures down here that I could procure. Maybe something like that Dragonstone? Ooh, or an amulet of great power! Well, I already have one of those, don't I?'
Pausing, Weiss wondered about whether or not to put her Conjuration to use. She pulled out her spell book on summoning familiars and read over the lines again, this time seemingly grasping the instructions a little easier. Her right hand began waving, and she began picturing herself weaving threads of magicka into the cloth that would become the spell. A light, blue orb shone and then expanded into a shape like a dog. The wolf-shaped extension of her will looked to her, and Weiss felt a little dizzied by experiencing two points-of-view at once. Unlike most summons, familiars were conjured from the summoner themselves, and could technically take any shape the conjurer wanted. The wolf form was just the one the book gave as an example. Weiss wove another spell once again, and the familiar dissipated before another showed, this time in the shape of a fox. Weiss split herself from the familiar to make it easier on herself, and pointed forward.
"Go ahead of me and scratch near any traps. Return if you come across an enemy."
The spectral fox yipped and ran forward, stopping to scratch at the trap right in front of Weiss. The heiress sighed with a smile and continued forward, but paused when the fox returned, a draugr right behind it.
"Very well."
Draugr were easy enough to kill, and this one was nothing special. A well-placed swipe and the body fell dead once again. A few more tried to stand in her way as she went, her fox familiar nipping at heels to distract them as she cut down the lesser undead while going through the tomb's halls. She paused momentarily when she spied several ingots on a table to the side and moved to pick them up. The slight sting they gave her confirmed them to be silver, and so the vampire happily began packing them away, knowing they'd be valuable.
Continuing forward, she found that the once narrow hallways widened, and more draugr came. Most went down quickly, but then one of them proved to be tougher than normal.
"Fus…" it said as it backed from her.
"Oh no!"
"Ro DA!"
Weiss jumped out of the way of the concussive force blast and then speared the draugr in the eye. It kept fighting for a moment longer, but Weiss could see its magic leaking from the wound profusely before she added another cut that downed it.
"Great, the boss from the first dungeon is now a miniboss." She blinked and then smacked herself. "I've spent too much time listening to Yang."
Weiss pushed through the tomb, killing draugr left and right, pausing to check certain places for anything worth looting. She was able to find several more silver ingots, along with precious gems and coins, a worthwhile haul to be sure. As she came onto a set of iron doors she pushed them open to see a pendulum trap and sighed.
"There's no way I'm risking that."
She summoned two glyphs, which the pendulums immediately crashed into and stopped cold, giving Weiss the time she needed to walk through unimpeded. On the other side, a coffin was kicked open, and a draugr wearing ancient ornate armor stepped out. Weiss readied herself as the draugr leveled its gaze at her
"Fo…" it began and Weiss immediately moved. Unfortunately she went too soon and the draugr tracked her. "Krah diin!"
An icy blast hit Weiss, but luckily the girl was more than attuned for the cold. More draugr began to join in as the battle began, and Weiss re-summoned her familiar, this time weaving it into the form of a bear. The spectral beast roared and ripped into the lesser draugr while Weiss focused upon the leader. As her blade sang forward, it blocked and tried to twist her sword away, only for her to follow the momentum and spin around with a slash. Weiss practically danced circles around it, giving precise cuts and stabs while it sought to chop her apart like a lumberjack. Finally the reanimated corpse couldn't seem to take it anymore and fell to its knees, where Weiss plunged her blade into it back, sending it back to death.
With the threats gone, Weiss took a moment to appreciate the ruins around her. Looking forward, she could see a Word Wall like the one from Bleak Falls Barrow. Seeing as stepping towards it didn't suddenly fill her with knowledge on how to read dragon script, she continued and opened the ancient chest before it, finding several age old coins, a war axe made of malachite, and two silver necklaces, one with a sapphire set into its face, and the other with two small garnets on either side of a large one in the center. Feeling an enchantment upon it, she observed it to see that it granted an immune system boost, what most simply called disease resistance (she had several things to say about why that was incorrect, but there was no point in arguing about the finer points of disease information with a people who probably haven't even discovered bacteria yet). She observed it further and found that it somehow granted complete immunity.
"How in…" she began, but decided to hold it in for now. Packing the stinging jewelry away, she walked back down and went under the Word Wall and walked forward to find an ancient bowl. Hoping that she was right, she took Nurelion's mixture and poured it in, where the potion began to glow. A rock door slid away at the back of the room, and Weiss went through and saw a room in much better condition with a phial sitting on a pedestal. Excited at finding her goal, she walked up and nearly plucked up the White Phial, but paused as she got a good look as it.
"It's…" She gingerly lifted it and turned it in her hands. "It's cracked."
There was no way for it to hold a liquid with some of the cracks it had. Feeling let down, Weiss slumped forward a bit, but stopped herself and looked it over once more.
'If there's one place in Skyrim that can fix this, it's right where I'm headed.'
Nurelion may have wanted the Phial quickly, but she knew he wouldn't be happy with it in this state. Even if the College couldn't fix it, she could always deliver it to him later and apologize for not being quicker. He'd probably appreciate the effort, at least.
Carefully wrapping the Phial in linen, Weiss packed it where it wouldn't be crushed and left the old tomb.
"Hmm-hm-hmm-hmmm," Yang hummed to herself, twirling the sword in her hand, a bound body hung over her shoulder, who had long since ceased his struggling.
"Will you stop that incessant tune?!" The man groaned, only to receive a painful jolt as Yang jumped him up slightly, deliberately striking his wounds in the process.
"What, my musical talents not good enough for you?" Yang asked, her point clear.
"No, no, you're great! Keep going!"
"That's what I thought." Once again, the air was filled with the sound of humming, now coupled with a slight whimper. Overall, Yang was happy with herself. She was able to liberate Amren's sword easy enough, having beaten the bandits black and blue, and as it turned out their leader, the man currently hung over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, had quite a substantial bounty on him, to the amount of five hundred septims. Upon arriving in Whiterun, she deposited the bandit chief with Commander Caius in exchange for an ebon, and made her way to Amren's house to deliver the sword. In the end, with another ebon thrown into the bank account and more than enough gold to get her some good food and a few other things, Yang went back to Jorrvaskr to turn in for the night, wondering if Blake and Weiss were learning any interesting spells.
'Maybe there's one for walking on water?' she thought near absentmindedly when Farkas and Skjor came up.
"'Sup, guys?"
"Uh…" Farkas intoned. Yang giggled at his confused expression.
"It means, 'how are you?'."
"Oh, well, fine, I guess."
"What brings you both out here?"
"We just wanted to tell you that we've decided on your last Trial to become a full-fledged Companion," Skjor explained. At this, Yang's interest was caught. "Farkas will be going there alongside you as your Shield-Sibling, to Dustman's Cairn, where a scholar tells us that a piece of Wuuthrad may lay. He seemed like a fool, but if he's right, then the honor of the Companions demands that we seek it out. Farkas will watch over you during this Trial." A heavy silence descended upon the group, the importance this artifact had for the Companions abundantly clear.
"Okay, cool." Yang shattered that silence and the stoic looks of the Companions, with them replaced with ones of confusion.
"What?" both Nords asked.
Yang sighed, but kept her expression pleasant. "It's a way of saying 'that's great'."
"Your homeland has many odd phrases," Skjor groaned. "Well then, I leave it to you two. Try not to disappoint, or get Farkas killed." The older man walked off with that, leaving Yang to talk with Farkas.
"So, Shield-Brother, huh?" Yang perked an eyebrow at Farkas, who shrugged.
"Yeah, looks like it. Don't be mistaken though, it's your trial. I'm just there to watch. Or drag you back if you get yourself killed."
"So much confidence you have," Yang chuckled, only for her expression to turn serious. "So, what's this Wuuthrad thing?"
"Wuuthrad is a legendary battleaxe. More importantly, it was the personal weapon of Ysgrammor himself," Farkas explained.
"Remind me, who was Ysgrammor again?"
"Ysgrammor was an ancient warrior from Atmora, who founded the Companions and Skyrim for the Nords. Had to kill all the elves to do it, mind you."
Yang blinked. "Wait, what?" At this, Farkas sheepishly rubbed the back of his head.
"Uh, yeah, not all the elves. Just the snow elves, or Falmer, they were called. And, well, not all of them either."
"Wait, I thought Falmer were those blind things that live underground and farm giant bugs. Ruby told me that on her First Trial they sent her to a cave full of them."
"To be honest, I don't really know what happened. Vilkas tried to explain that they adapted or something, but I couldn't get the finer points of it. Basically if you live underground long enough, you and your descendants could go blind and crazy."
"Oh, so they evolved that way?" Yang rubbed her chin in thought. "Yeesh, they must've been under there a while. Well, I guess I'll see you in the morning then. We'll grab breakfast and head out?"
"Yeah. Don't wanna take too long."
With that Farkas went his own way and Yang scoped out the living quarters for a decent bed to sleep on. Thankful that someone was keeping this place clean, she kicked off her boots, set her gauntlets down, and crawled in to bed. Soon enough, she drifted into a deep sleep, dreaming of home.
Dustman's Cairn wasn't all that far from Whiterun, comparatively. It was about twice as far as the Western Watchtower had been. After eating a filling but not stuffing breakfast, Yang and Farkas headed out towards it, going over the tundra for a straighter shot. As the warm sun crawled higher in the sky and they kept up a slight jog, something distinctly echoed across the plains. The two stopped and looked to the south, where a shape was growing steadily in the sky.
"Uh oh," Farkas uttered as he grabbed the hilt of his sword. Another roar echoed out, and the distinct shape of a dragon showed. The beast quickly flew up to and over them, then banked around and circled them twice. Yang stood back to back with Farkas as they both prepared their weapons.
"Well, it was good knowing you, Shield-Sister," Farkas gulped.
"We aren't dead yet," Yang told him as the dragon slowed itself and landed. It was smaller than Mirmulnir, but a bit larger than Paalduzaam had been, covered in green scales speckled by yellow. The creature growled at them as it leveled its eye.
"Hi los briinah do Dovahkiin?" its voice boomed in an aggressive but questioning manner.
"Uh, Farkas, did you get that?"
"I don't speak dragon."
"Hey, neither of us speak dragon," she called out over to the dragon.
It growled. "You are…sister of…Dragonborn?"
"Uh, yeah, I am."
The dragon's face seemed to smile. "Then…I can destroy you…and the Dovahkiin will be…enraged. Ni koraav naal rahgol, naal ni motmahus wah krii. Blinded by rage, easier to kill." The dragon chortled as it began to take wing again. "Fall, briinah do Dovahkiin! Fall to Dezgeingron!"
"Couldn't have said no?" Farkas' question was flat, as was his expression.
"I didn't think about it, okay. Last two dragons just skipped to the attempting to murder us part." At this, the two broke into a sprint and separated.
Dezgeingron reared his head back, and the two dodged as fire came forth and hit the field where they were standing. He tried to chase Yang with it, but the girl stayed ahead of the inferno as she ran to a boulder to hide behind. Annoyed, the dragon let the fire die and flew over to her cover. As his head poked over, Yang jumped up with a spin and uppercut the dragon's chin, actually flinging its head back and causing Dezgeingron to stumble.
"Ha, knew the Shēnglóngquán would be effective!"
The dragon shook its head and looked at Yang in anger before trying to snap her into its jaws. She jumped up above its bite and then punched downwards, knocking it fully to the ground. Farkas came in from the side and swiped his blade against the dragon's wing, cutting through part of the membrane and the 'wrist'. Dezgeingron roared and snapped at the Nord man, only for his teeth to clang against the Skyforge steel greatsword. Yang promptly jumped in and punched the dragon's face, causing him to back away.
"Fo! Krah! Diin!" Icy breath suddenly leapt from the dragon's maw and hit Yang. The Huntress yelled and tried to cover her face. She could feel the heat being quickly sapped from her body. To combat it, she shot a hand out and a fireball slammed against her foe's body. She pulled herself away and tried to summon flames to warm herself, but the dragon went after her immediately, frosty air spilling from its mouth. Farkas came between the two and squared off against the dragon. Safe for now, Yang watched as she tried to thaw her blood out, feeling her heart jump every time Farkas had to block or dodge a snap of the dragon's jaws or a slash of his claws. He breathed fire again, but Farkas quickly ran out of its way. Yang watched as the flames tapered down, despite the fact that the dragon couldn't track Farkas with them fast enough.
'Wait a minute,' Yang thought. 'He's not good at controlling it!'
Finally having the warmth in her restored, Yang went back into the battle. Dezgeingron saw her, but a cut along the side of his face dragged his attention back to Farkas.
"Yol!" she heard and began running towards his head. "Toor! Shul!"
Less than a second after the first of the flames poured out after Farkas, nearly hitting him this time, Yang crashed into the dragon's head and pulled its mouth closed. Like she'd hoped, the muscles for opening them weren't very strong, but it was still a struggle to hold them. Fire licked out from the sides of his mouth as Dezgeingron tried whipping his head back and forth. Seeing an opening, Farkas ran forward with a shout, spearing his sword forward into the dragon's chest. Dragon and man struggled, and Yang could feel his face heating up. She let go and Dezgeingron roared upwards in pain as the remaining flames shot out. She grabbed a hold of Farkas' sword and with a yell helped him to shove the blade further into Dezgeingron's chest. The dragon struggled away before falling to his side, his wings twitching, his neck bent, and his body writhing, before finally going still.
After a pregnant pause, Farkas tentatively went forward and began pulling his sword free. Seeing how the corpse didn't respond, and with his weapon back in hand, the two looked over the green and yellow dragon corpse. The plain was silent, before slowly the sound of laughter began to spill out of the two warriors.
"That's what happens when you mess with the Companions!" Farkas taunted the corpse before continuing to let out a hearty laugh. Yang patted his shoulder with another laugh, before a thought entered her mind.
"It's not burning up," Yang realized and then laughed. "Guess that means I'm not a Dragonborn too."
"Guess not. But what does that mean for the dragon?"
"No idea. But now we've got a whole dragon's worth of scales." She tapped a finger to its hide. "Admit it, these things are tough, even on the weaker dragons. I bet it'd make for awesome armor."
"As hard as it was just to make this thing bleed, I can only imagine." He let out a sigh and looked in the direction of their destination. "Let's take a moment and then move on."
'These dragon attacks are becoming more and more frequent' Yang thought to herself, now worried. 'I hope the others are okay.'
As she neared Winterhold, Weiss stopped and looked in awe at the statue of Azura in the distance. It was a towering monument that likely took years to build, and was also the largest recent construction in Skyrim she had seen yet. She couldn't help but imagine what work and reasons went into its creation.
"I'll have to visit that," she told herself as she continued on. Winterhold was in sight, but most especially the building she could only assume was the Mage College of Winterhold. It sat at the very edge of a cliff overlooking the nearly frozen sea. There was an ancient majesty about it, and it seemed an almost fantastical place. Weiss then recalled that magic was involved, so it really was fantastical. As she neared the town something seemed to carry over the wind that never seemed to let up. Ignoring it, she kept moving forward, but then it came again, and she instantly realized what it was.
'Dragon?'
She turned and looked southwest to see a blue and white dragon flying fast. A low roar resounded once again, and Weiss could hear the town suddenly coming alive as everyone either prepared to defend themselves or fled at the sight of the dragon. As it passed over the town, frost left it mouth and either nearly froze civilians to death or iced over the buildings, trapping those within. Weiss immediately rushed forward and drew Myrtenaster, intent on helping the people and stopping the dragon. As she ran into the city, the beast winged around and landed atop a building before roaring directly at the people cowering beneath it.
"Mortals! Your kind are filth! You dared to usurp us! Dared to bury my brethren! Dared to bury me! I, Nahkrensos, will show you the error of your ways! I, Nahkrensos, will shatter your little Kro Hofkah!" Weiss saw a few guards bravely fire arrows at the dragon, but most of them bounced off of his scales. When one penetrated, the blood could be clearly seen against his white scales, but the way he reacted they may as well have stabbed him with a sowing needle, as he turned towards them with a growl and then unleashed his Voice.
"Fus! Ro! Dah!"
Weiss had seen and felt the Force shout before, but seeing a dragon powered version made them all look like light shoves. The men were thrown back as everything around them was flung through the air, the corner of a wooden building caved in, and the one most directly hit by it silently rag-dolled through the air, his body appearing almost boneless. Weiss gritted her teeth and aimed Myrtenaster forward as she took the Sanguine Rose from her back and summoned up a daedra for combat. A dremora wearing robes came forth and immediately began summoning firebolts.
"A worthy challenge!" it cried upon seeing her foe.
Lightening coursed through her multi-action Dust revolver rapier and fired out at the dragon, hitting it in the chest and eliciting a pained response. The dragon glared at her as she and the dremora kept coming, her summon's firebolts splashing against the dragon's hide ineffectively. Nahkrensos raised its wings up and reared its head back, and Weiss readied herself to dodge.
"Kun! Strun! Qo!"
A mass of lightning leapt from the dragon's mouth directly at Weiss. She gasped and barely activated her repulsion glyph in time to get herself out of the way, but the dremora was not as lucky, and was directly hit by the blast. It cried out briefly before being practically vaporized as it returned to Oblivion. The massive lightning bolt was dragged for a moment, sheering off half of a building's roof before it stopped. The dragon roared as it took to the air, leaping off its perch, with Weiss taking cover behind a building, trying to formulate a plan in her mind. The dragon was perhaps as big as Mirmulnir had been, and seemed to be almost as strong, if not stronger going by what she'd seen. The building behind her shook and she looked up to see the dragon staring down at her in rage.
"Diil dinok!" he shouted as he bit towards her. Weiss screamed and summoned a glyph in time to stall, but the Semblance structure shattered after but a moment. Still, a moment was all Weiss needed to escape. She quickly went around the building, but Nahkrensos' gaze followed her. Weiss took a breath and used her magic to summon her familiar, this time weaving it in the shape of a Nevermore. It wasn't very large, having a wingspan a little longer than she was tall, but still she sent it directly at the dragon's face. The false Grimm pecked at the dragon's eyes and Nahkrensos snapped at it, all while Weiss ran between building hoping to find a place to hide once again. Thinking that she lost him, she took a second to breathe and collect her thoughts before the buildings near her shook again. She looked up and saw the dragon waving its head back and forth, searching for her.
"Praan," it practically whispered. "Yah. Nir."
Weiss could see a change in its eyes, and then it was looking down at her. It snarled and bit towards her, but Weiss ducked and it missed, hitting the wall instead. She stabbed up, hitting near its eye, but its tough hide prevented any meaningful penetration and it went away with barely a scratch. Weiss jumped through the hole into the building and saw a woman hiding behind a counter.
"What in Oblivion are you doing?!"
"Trying to fight a-" Weiss halted her words as Nahkrensos' head showed up at the opening upside down.
"Yol!"
Weiss immediately summoned a repulsion glyph in front of the dragon's face and began pushing it as hard she could.
"Toor! Sh-"
The dragon's head was forced away just before it spewed flames, while the woman herself screamed in terror. Weiss herself turned and went out the door leading back to the streets. As Nahkrensos turned, she began summoning as many ice spikes as she could with both magic and Dust, hoisting them within a glyph and aimed at the dragon. All were aimed and she set it to repulse, firing them all at speeds nearing the sound barrier. Ice smashed against the dragon's side, and Weiss felt a moment of satisfaction, which soon faded when her foe raised a wing, showing that there had been almost no damage, not even a hole broken through the membrane. The dragon hissed and began taking to the air again, and Weiss felt despair at ever hoping to as much as hurt it. Before it went on the offensive again, something exploded against its face and sent it reeling. Weiss looked to the side and saw a handful of mages coming across the bridge from the College.
"Spread out and protect the townspeople!" a Dunmer in clearly different robes from the others ordered. "Colette, try to find and heal any wounded! Phinis, ranged atronachs! Mirabelle, Faralda, watch for the dragon's attacks and hit it with all you've got!"
Nahkrensos roared, but the Dunmer lashed out with fireballs coming from one hand and lightning coming from the other, in such rapidity that Weiss didn't even know it was possible. Fire smashed against the dragon and electricity coursed through its body as it was forced to fly out of range. It circled about, and Weiss could see where it was clearly scorched by the Dunmer's magic, clashing against its white and blue frame. The woman he called Colette came up to her, yellow magic readied in her hands.
"Are you injured?"
"No, it never hit me. It got close, though. I saw several guards get hurt that way." She pointed to where most of the guardsmen had been Shouted through the air. "I don't know if any made it though."
The mage nodded and sped off to the men. The dragon came back around and dodged through spells of lightning, fire, ice, and others that Weiss couldn't put a word to. A few guardsmen tried to use their bows to effect, but once again even those that hit did nothing or so little they may as well have. Seeing a mage in the path of an oncoming breath attack, Weiss summoned a glyph beneath him and launched him out of the way in time to avoid the dragon's fiery breath.
The Dunmer, noticing the glyph, looked over to her and far too calmly walked her way while continuing to lay down punishment on Nahkrensos, who had fled once again.
"Girl," he called out to her before lobbing a two-handed fireball. "That spell; can you use it to hold things still?"
"My glyph?" she asked, thinking quickly. "Yes! But if you need me to hold a dragon steady…"
"I understand. It won't be but a moment. I'll tell you when." Nahkrensos suddenly appeared over them and twisted in midair, rearing his head back as he dropped onto a building's roof.
"Kun!" The dark elf's eyes went wide and he pushed down on Weiss' back.
"Get down!" he yelled as he pressed his hands forward.
"Strun! Qo!"
Weiss screamed when she saw the deadly lightning breath coming for them, but just before it hit a transparent shield formed before her and the mer, blocking the attacks and sending it off to their side. The dragon looked at them in fury, but had to duck under a swirling ball of ice and wind before jumping up and flying off. The ward spell ended and the Dunmer offered his hand to Weiss.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes! Thank the gods!" Weiss' eyes were wide at the sheer power the Dunmer was projecting as she quickly got to her feet and readied her weapon.
"Good. Let's see if we can bring down that flying lizard!"
The two went out towards the town square and tracked their foe in the sky.
"When I give the word, lock its wings in place. The spell I'm going to use takes a moment for even me to prepare." Lightning formed at his hands as he waved his arms around in mirror opposites of each other, and then he balled them at his side. When he had a clear shot, he thrust his hands forward and unleashed a cascade of electricity that was almost as devastating-looking as the dragon's lightning breath, and sustained it as it crashed into the dragon's body and poured into it. After several seconds, he let go and the dragon looked at them wearily, but still hateful.
"Come on, you overgrown salamander! You haven't harmed me yet!" he taunted. The dragon turned towards them, and bits of static seemed to jump between its teeth as it snarled. "Lock it!"
Weiss focused as much Aura as she could and formed two glyphs on its shoulder joints. The dragon noticed and looked to either side of it and attempted to pull itself free. Weiss struggled against the strength of the dragon, feeling her Aura steadily and quickly drain as she held the massive beast in place. Beside her, the Dunmer mage spread out his arms and made symbols with his fingers.
"Julianos, grant me the wisdom." His right hand became covered in a blue-green mist and he turned, the right behind him, left hand in front. "Stendarr, grant me the might." His left became covered in a green gold. He brought both hands together in front of him and the two began melding. "Kynerath, grant me your winds, and let me strike!" the colors completely coalesced into a light green, and then he raised it above him. Weiss felt a sudden change in the air, and her strain to hold the dragon in place began to feel very different. She looked forward, and saw that the wind seemed to be pushing against Nahkrensos at gale force.
"Now, let go!"
Weiss released her glyphs with a cry and the dragon went tumbling through the air, out past the cliff and then straight down. The ground rumbled and shook, and everyone able to ran to the side to look down. The dragon had landed on its side, but was now struggling up. The Dunmer looked down while gasping for breath.
"Everyone, hit it with your strongest spells! Don't hold back!"
As he said that, a massive ball of fire formed between his hands and was launched down, where it exploded against the dragon's back. The other mages began firing what they had as well, sending down the elements of destruction in torrents of power. The ground exploded around the dragon as it roared out in pain. Weiss joined in as well, adding her bolts of lightning and spikes of ice to the mix. Everyone stopped at nearly the same time, waiting as the dust and scattered snow settled. A few began laughing, but that early celebration stopped when a roar echoed out and Nahkrensos' wing claw emerged and pulled him forward. Most of the dragon was scorched, and parts of him were bleeding, but overall the dragon was still in one piece, even its wings didn't look overly damaged.
"Mortals!" he screamed in rage. "I! Nahkrensos! Will! Destroy you!"
"Damnit!" a bald man cursed as he backed away. "What in the gods' names will it take to kill that thing?!"
Weiss looked down and noticed something off. Its right eye was squeezed shut, and seemed to be leaking blood. She looked around at the steep rock face and then pulled out her scroll to see that her Aura had only about a quarter left. She stowed the device away and began planning.
"I need you to distract it," she said to them. "Keep it looking at its right while I get into place."
"What are you doing?" an Altmer woman demanded as Weiss prepared a platform glyph.
"Going for the eye," she simply explained before leaping forward and catching herself. She jumped again and again as some of the mages listened and fired from the dragon's right, keeping his attention on them. When she was nearly level with his head, she readied herself to jump as hard as she could, and formed a black repulsion glyph directly across from her and near his eye. As Nahkrensos focused in on it, Weiss jumped over his head and landed against it. In less than a second after her foot touched the glyph, she turned her focus and held Myrtenaster straight up and aimed at his eye. Her glyph activated as much power as she could push behind it, and she fired like a bullet with a crack of thunder. Her blade sank halfway in and Nahkrensos roared out as his pupil was pierced through. Weiss formed a small glyph at her rapier's hilt and used it to push the blade in deeper.
The dragon slung its head around, whipping Weiss about as well, then he caught her left leg in his teeth. The dragon snapped down and the heiress screamed in pain as she cycled her Dust to ice and pulled back the hammer. She focused nearly the remainder of her ice Dust as well as an untellable amount of ice magic through Myrtenaster, and suddenly the dragon began twitching as its eye frosted over. The ice spread across its scales and over a quarter of its head before the dragon collapsed, its wings twitching as it did. Weiss tried to pull herself free, but found she didn't have the strength to do so, especially with one leg caught in the jaws of a dragon. Suddenly a spectral mace wielded by the balding man smashed against the frozen part of the dragon's head, shattering its flesh to the bone. An ice atronach pried open the dragon's jaws and Weiss was caught and gently lowered by at least three pairs of hands. The vampire felt her consciousness beginning to fade when she saw the Dunmer wizard looking down at her, a look of pride on his face.
"Well done, young lady. Well done."
A couple days after leaving Morthal, Blake arrived at Dragon Bridge, once again feeling sore and exhausted. Rather than let herself rest any more, though, she stopped by a camp and asked them if they had any stamina and healing potions, having used up the entirety of her supply on the way. She quickly bought one of each and downed them. While not exactly energy drinks, they did help to relieve the feeling of lactic acid buildup burning in her muscles and keep her from feeling tired. It couldn't replace rest, people had talked about how doing so wasn't a substitute for taking a few minutes to sit and recover, but Blake didn't want to wait ten minutes. The half minute buying and drinking the potions almost felt like too much as it was.
She saw the banners of the Empire flying outside of a building and headed straight for it. Inside was a man wearing defined armor looking over a map of Skyrim, another nearby shuffling through papers.
"I'm looking for Commander Maro," she announced.
"That would be me," the standing Cyrodiilic man told her as he stood up straight. "What's this about?"
"I was captured and taken by a member of the Dark Brotherhood," Blake explained as she set the assassin masked hood on the table. "She was trying to convince me to kill someone. I killed her instead." She set the dagger on top of it.
"That…" the man said slowly with pause. "That's the Blade of Woe. The one who carried… The assassin? Who was it? What did they look like? Was it a woman?" Maro gently asked.
"I didn't get a name, but I did get a good look at her after I killed her. It was a blonde Nord woman, average looking, green eyes, and seemed to carry herself with a high degree of importance."
"By the grace of the Eight…" A smile exploded onto Maro's face. "My friend, you didn't just kill an assassin of the Dark Brotherhood. You killed their leader, a Nord woman known only by the name Astrid."
"Their leader?"
"Yes. More importantly, she, if my sources are to be believed, is also their Listener."
"Listener?"
"The Listener is the one person in the Dark Brotherhood with the ability to 'hear' the Black Sacrament through some dark magic first made by the Night Mother, centuries ago. It's how they make their contracts. If she's really dead… You said that you killed her?"
"I did." Blake figured the details didn't really matter here. "The guard captain in Morthal said I should head straight to you."
"And you were right to come to me. We've been preparing for this for some time, but never had the opening we needed. Now, with their Listener and one of their strongest fighters out of the picture, not to mention leaderless, we can finally put an end to them." He smirked and looked over the Blade of Woe before handing it to Blake hilt first. "That would be yours now. Spoils of war. It's an infamous blade, but after this, it's going to be a symbol of something else. Listen, miss…?"
"Blake. Blake Belladonna."
"Miss Belladonna, I ask that you help us a little more. I have men in place, ready to raid their sanctuary and put an end to the Dark Brotherhood once and for all. They're down in Falkreath. Now, listen closely. I'm essentially using you as both a courier and an agent for this. You have to go to a guard in Falkreath, and tell him 'the sheep are silent'. He'll take you to my top man in the field, if it isn't him in disguise. After that, say that it's time to move forward with the phrase 'night is almost over'. The last thing, and arguably the most important is the passphrase from the Dark Brotherhood's sanctuary, which we only recently acquired. It is 'silence, my brother'."
"'The sheep are silent'. 'Night is almost over'. 'Silence, my brother'," Blake repeated, burning the phrases into her memory. "Sir, if I may? Can I ask to be a part of the raid? I want to make sure the Brotherhood goes down myself. They've sent assassins after me and my closest friends. It's personal at this point."
"After learning you personally slew Astrid, I'd be disappointed if you didn't. Here, come with us. Mercurio, come."
"Yes sir," the man at the desk responded, long having left his paperwork behind to hear what the other two had to say. The three walked outside and to the back of the outpost, where a small stables was set with a few horses inside.
"Here, this is one of our fastest steeds available," Commander Maro said as he pointed out a white mare with brown speckles. Mercurio immediately saddled the horse and prepared it for departure. "I ask that you get to Falkreath as quickly as possible, but even with a horse it will take you over a day with a stop after dusk. And do stop to rest. We need to get there alive. Late is better than never."
"You can count on me," Blake assured the man. As Mercurio led the horse out, Blake reached forward and petted her snout. Speckles might not have been a real horse, but riding him did get her used to the act. She pulled herself into the saddle, only a little unsteadily, but it seemed that military horses were well-trained.
"Gods' speed, Miss Belladonna."
Blake nodded, and spurred her horse forward, headed down the road and southeast to Falkreath, determined to put an end to this once and for all.