Despite missing a piece of my thumb, I was still able to bring you all this latest chapter. A thank you and mention to xTRESTWHOx and NaanContributor for nudging me in the right direction on everything.

Also, to help keep confusion to a minimum, I will post dates before and after each chapter to show when the events of that particular one happened. for this chapter, we begin at 29th of Sun's Dusk

Blake scribbled a few notes down next to the sketching of a knight. She had a much better idea of how to characterize Pelinal, recalling some advice she got from a forgotten source. 'It's not about liking or agreeing with a character, it's about understanding why they do what they do.' And so far, she was getting at least that, if bit by bit. And if her theory about Umaril's father panned out, then their rivalry would make tons more sense.

The carriage came to a halt and the passengers started unloading. The two carriage guards went to rest at the nearby stables, and most of the others either headed for the city gates or some houses sitting outside of the walls. Blake headed inside and was a little taken aback. The last and only time she had been in the city, it was so short a stop, with almost all of it in a single building, that they couldn't really absorb it all. Now she saw the city laid out in front of her, part of it looking more like it had been carved out of the mountain rather than built up. Ramps and stairs led to higher levels everywhere, layered up above the ground and climbing the mountain's side. The people were bustling through in some places and almost absent in others, only for crowds to disperse in one area and recollect in another. The majority of them were Nords, but there were more than a few Redguards and Bretons.

"I told you," she heard someone aggressively growling and turned her head to see a Nord standing in a doorway, blocking a Breton's entrance, "we don't serve your kind here!"

"My kind?! You barbarous oaf! I'm from Daggerfall!" the Breton screamed back. "Even if I was a Reachman, what gives you the right to just slam the door in their face?!"

We're not animals!

Blake shook her head at the sudden memory and went on, weaving through the crowds of traders and merchants. The mass of people easily matched Solitude's, which only made sense. Solitude may have had the major port by sea, but Markarth was next to and connected to both Hammerfell and High Rock by land. Anyone bringing things by foot or hoof would likely have to stop here first. Even as she continued climbing up towards the palace, Blake had to stop and double-check when she thought she saw a trio of elf-eared people who had horse bodies below their waists.

'So that's what a Centaur looks like,' she thought as she spied them unloading items to trade. A few of the Nords were glaring at them, but most stopped after a few moments and carried on with their day. The same couldn't be said for the accompanying Bretons in the Centaurs' party, several of which were being accosted at that very moment.

"So what's this then?" a guard among four asked a woman across the street while pulling up an ivory talisman from her neck. She clutched it, but was careful not to break the chain.

"My grandmother's! Listen, I haven't e'en been to the Karth in months! I don' know a t'ing about it."

"A likely story. I'm going to have to ask you-"

One of the guards nudged his fellow and they all looked over and saw Blake glaring. Rather than look away, the Faunus decided to stand her ground and just intensified her gaze. The man let go of the woman's pendant with a scoff.

"Shovel off then, but we're watching you." The woman quickly ducked away and got lost in the crowd. Blake then allowed herself to go forward, but didn't lose the snarl on her face for a good few minutes. The entire situation landed too close to home. As bad as Windhelm got, it was becoming clear that Markarth, for all its glamour, was worse.

When she finally reached the keep, the two door guards eyed her, but made no moves to halt her from entering. Inside, the sun was almost immediately cut off. Blake also noted how the once muffled sounds beneath her feet were now loud and clear, machinery clanking and gears turning with the occasional puff of steam. There were a handful of people waiting, likely to see the Jarl, but Blake had a different goal than most. She was about to start asking for directions, but down a side corridor she saw an old man standing among various tables with even more various research items upon them, ranging from books, scattered notes, a jumbled chemistry setup, and one table obviously meant for more arcane things. Blake approached, and the wizard turned to her to reveal an old, bearded Altmer's face, annoyed at her presence.

"What are you doing here? The excavation site is closed. I don't need any more workers or guards."

"I'm actually-"

"I told you I'm not hiring any more guards! Why do you people always bother me when I'm trying to finish my research?! You idiot! Do you even know who I am?! The most recognized scholar on the Dwemer in all of Tamriel, and you people keep bothering me!" His eyes widened a moment before drooping in shame. "I... I'm sorry I... I got too excited. I'm in the middle of some very…stressful work, and I shouldn't have yelled. How can I help you?"

"It's okay." Blake nodded and let the tension in her shoulders that built at his outburst loosen. "I've heard you're the authority when it comes to ancient Falmer."

"Then you were well-informed. I am at this very moment on the cusp of completing my magnum opus on the subject. I'm calling it "Calcelmo's Guide to the Falmer Tongue". It will revolutionize the way we see those ancient beings."

"Sounds amazing!" Blake really did think it was interesting, but more of a side interest than a main one. "Would you mind if I got to view it a little early?"

"Preposterous!" he immediately exclaimed. "That research represents years of personal toil in some of the most dangerous Dwemer ruins in Skyrim. You must be mad to think I'd allow anyone to see it before it's completed."

"But…I really love your work," she tried to convince him. She tried to think up some kind of reason or excuse to get through to him, but none were really forthcoming. She really wished she had Ruby's Masque right now.

"While I appreciate the sentiment, I still have to decline. Being an admirer, I'm sure you can understand the need to keep my research a secret."

Blake sighed. Maybe it made sense in some fields, but she didn't see how it applied to archaeology and linguistics. Still, she didn't want to press the issue and get on anyone's blacklist before making any real headway.

"Okay. Thank you for your time, then."

"You're very welcome, young lady. Perhaps when my research is complete, I'll feel more comfortable discussing my findings with you."

Blake walked out of the lab/dig site and back into the atrium. Some plans were rolling around her head about how to approach the problem, ranging from raiding Calcelmo's belongings to using a disguise and holding a blade to his neck. As she threw out that idea, a familiar footstep hit her ear and caused her to spin in place. Her hand shot to her sword, only to pause once she saw the sound's familiar owner.

"Finally caught up to ya, lass," Brynjolf said with a smirk. For a second, Blake was relieved, then confused.

"How did you find me?"

Brynjold stepped forward slightly, his face stoic and focused on hers. "Gnives pointed me to your trail. Figured you'd come by coach, so I just went a little quicker. Now, he didn't tell me everything, said you'd have the answers, so now I'm asking: what in Oblivion is going on Blake? Why'd Mercer come back saying he lost you in the snow?"

"He didn't lose me. He… He tried to kill me." Brynjolf's eyes widened at that and Blake sighed before looking around and pulling them to a far-off, dark corner where she began retelling him exactly what went down in Snow Veil Sanctum. The man's eyes went from surprised to angered, then to skeptical. Blake thought about leaving out the explanation of Aura, but it was too large of a factor at the moment, and she needed the Nord to understand how big of a deal the whole thing really was.

A quick test with his dagger on Blake's skin let him know she wasn't making some tall tale about it, either.

"So…this whole time, he's been playing us. That rat bastard…" Brynjolf grimaced, but his eyes were held steadfast. "You're sure this journal will indicate whether or not he did Gallus in?"

"Karliah seems to think so, and I think she just might be right. At the very least, I know what I saw and heard. And I know who gave me…this." Blake carefully undid a clasp and button on her armor and showed Brynjolf part of her scar, more than a little self-conscious of how showing part of her chest to a man might look. Brynjolf though, focused on the scar alone before looking back up at her.

"Someone went for your heart," he stated. "If it was Mercer… Gods, the Guild's going to turn upside down after this."

"So you believe me?" Blake asked while buttoning herself back up.

"I'll believe the evidence once I see it. Right now, it's not looking too good for him." He sighed and clenched his fist, then relaxed. "We need this Falmer translation key, right?"

"Something like that, but Calcelmo's hiding it until his research is done. I tried, but…"

"Talking's not your strong suit, Blake. Give me a moment at it, and I'll have something." The Nord thief then turned and walked down towards the Court Wizard. Calcelmo seemed to face him with a similar amount of annoyance he had for Blake, but gradually shifted to a thoughtful look before nodding and agreeing to something then handing over something to Brynjolf. The Nord came back with a smile on his face and key in hand.

"Well, good news and bad news. Good news, he'll let us into his 'Dwemer Museum', which is where I bet a good bit of his research is stashed at. Bad news, we need to kill a particularly large Frostbite spider what's taken up residence in Nchuand-Zel."

"Joy," Blake deadpanned. "At least it sounds doable."

"Right on that. Well then, give me a minute to get out of my day clothes and get on my armor," he requested while indicating his clothes. "Can't go delving into unknown depths while in my Sundas best." Blake just shook her head while the thief headed out. As she waited, she walked around the keep, seeing a few courtiers, townspeople, and villagers either waiting for the court to be held or discussing things among themselves. One of the oddest things to catch her sight was a black-furred Ohmes-raht Khajiit tending to several ravens and crows that flew in and out one of the few openings to the outside. He seemed to be talking with them while giving some food and others miscellaneous items.

"Now, Chester, show Rigal there how to dig with a shovel. There's an extra piece of cheese in it for you if he gets it today. Barnaby, good to see you. Your mother's out at the moment, but she should be back soon. Tessle, no! I don't care if you think crows are inferior birds, you do not pick on anyone in this roost."

Blake almost laughed at the odd sight, but as the Khajiit turned her ears popped up. His left sleeve was sewed up to the shoulder, indicating he had no left arm to speak of. After a moment, she looked away, hoping he hadn't seen her staring, but the man's attention never left his feathered wards. Just as she was thinking of walking away, odd footsteps sounded out and she had to step out of the way of a group of Altmer in traditional elven armor jogging through, a Thalmor in purple robes behind them barking out commands.

"Backs straight! Don't falter, and keep your strides even! Errdith, you're going to lose five years of your lifespan with steps that heavy, lighten them. And…stop!" The procession of Thalmor warriors ceased and turned towards their leader as he walked to the front of them.

"An improvement on the other day, but most of you still fall short. Work on that. Get some rest. We have searches to do tomorrow." As the Altmer scattered, the Thalmor looked towards Blake, and the Faunus felt a lot more self-conscious. He focused in on her and she thought about slipping away from his gaze before something told her that would just make her look suspicious.

"Not every day a new Khajiit comes to Understone Keep," he said as he approached. "What brings you here?"

"I was…hoping to get some information from Calcelmo," she answered, her fear abated by his revelation of just being intrigued by the rare sight of her supposed race. "Right now I'm waiting on a companion of mine."

"I see. Here I thought Kay might have had a visitor."

"Kay?" Blake asked, an eyebrow going up. She was sure she heard the name before.

"Tynaus Kay," he indicated the Khajiit working with the black birds. "Though some in Markarth refer to him as Black-Feather or Blackfur. Not very imaginative, these Nords. Reachmen, at least, put a little twist on it, calling him Dunnenn. He's been trying to train crows and ravens to carry messages. Not a terrible idea, but it's taking him quite some time, and he's only succeeded in making them more clever in how they mess with us mortals. As if they weren't bad enough as it was." He chuckled to himself.

"Huh, neat." For a moment Blake thought about the application of messenger crows and ravens, but her thoughts returned to the Nords and Reachmen she had seen on the way to the palace. "Wh- What exactly is going on in this town anyway?"

"You'll have to be more specific."

"I mean…with the Nords and the Reachmen. Honestly, they aren't all that different from Bretons from what I can see."

"The Nords' disdain of the locals runs deeper than looks, though they often can't be bothered to think past it. They conquered this land several times, and High Rock took it back several times, both under Altmer and Breton rule, but the locals historically resist such attempts to assimilate them. The Nords' treatment of them of late, however, has been abysmal enough to push many over the edge. And then their rebellion only serves to make the Nords grip the land and its people tighter. But, to be honest, the way these western Nords treat the locals of the Reach is worse than even the most callous Altmer ever dreamed of treating any human."

Blake was sure he was exaggerating, but his expression didn't seem to indicate he was. If she didn't know any better, he appeared to honestly believe what he was saying. The Thalmor shifted his posture, then nodded to her.

"Tread lightly here, Khajiit. Thank you for sharing a few words. It gets dull hearing Men complain about the same thing every day. Have a good afternoon."

"You, too," she wished him before they separated. She decided to go and see what this Tynaus was doing herself while she waited.

Lydia winced as she moved the shield around, focusing on keeping it up without overpowering it. It started to crack, and she let it go and it fell apart after a second. As the woman gasped for a few breaths, Ruby walked up to her with a large smile.

"Good job, Lyd! That was nearly ten seconds, and you've gotten to where you can move them around. If it keeps going like this, I bet you'll be able to throw them."

"Maybe." She made another shield and moved it around, a little smoother than before. "Making them doesn't seem difficult. It's keeping them up that's the problem."

"A problem that we can figure out eventually." Onmund then walked out into the courtyard while shuffling through envelopes.

"Hey, you got two letters, Ruby," he let her know while handing them over. The Dragonborn took them and opened up the first.

Ruby,

I wish you well in these trying times. Everything with my friend's situation with the Old Priest has been looked into and handled with no worries. It seems that the whole thing was just a prank by a young mage.

"Weird," she muttered before scanning it to find more mindless pleasantries that she had no context for. "I think I might have gotten the wrong… Wait…"

Your Friend,

Forest Son

"Ah, Capric must have gotten my letter, but… Lydia, can you make heads or tails of this?"

The housecarl took the letter in her hands and looked it over a moment before humming. "An encoded message, maybe?"

"But what's the code?" Ruby wondered aloud as she opened the other and pulled out a blank sheet with rectangular holes cut out of it. "Oh, okay! He must have sent this one at another time or place or something." She took the letter in hand and fit the cypher over it. Rather than simply picking out words to show the true message, more words appeared on the once blank cypher.

Ruby,

I wish you would have waited until I could have helped you. The whole situation with the Dragon Priest might have been better handled with another ally at your side, and not to brag, but I'm a fairly skilled battle mage.

Still, I'm not sure if I read this right, but you're telling me there are Nirnians with Aura? That shouldn't be possible, but I can take a closer look at this whenever you're next in Haafingar. I'll try to have people on the lookout for this Mercer, but I can't guarantee anything. A member of the Thieves Guild is hard to track.

In other news, we've got eyes on a few possible dangerous dragons and some Word Walls. It seems almost any Nordic ruin is bound to have one, but I don't want to send you on wild goose chases. I'll let you know once more information comes.

Capric

"Okay. Guess he didn't want this stuff getting into the wrong hands." Ruby separated the pieces of paper then looked at them both. "Guess we should burn these or something. Onmund, yoouu saaaww nothiiiing!" Ruby chanted while waving the sheets. The Nord mage just shook his head while walking away.

"Saw nothing."

"Are you going to write a response?"

"After a while, maybe. It's not urgent…right now." She set the secret letter on fire and threw it away as it burned to ashes. "Let's do some combat practice for now. Gotta make sure you moving those shields is worth it."

Nearby, a woman who had been watching, but not actually listening to Ruby was suddenly plucked out of her seat.

"Oh, hey darling," Talia said to the large she-Orc hefting her up bridal-style.

"You were ogling other women again," the Orc accused her, immediately causing the Breton to frantically wave her arms.

"It's not like that, darling. The two over there are working on some interesting battle magic."

"Uh huh, whatever." She lugged Talia over her shoulder and headed inside. "Uncle Urag has some cataloguing that needs doing."

"Darling, Shu, you're not angry with me, are you? Are you?"

Shu did not answer.

With Brynjolf dressed in dark leather armor, though not the kind seen in the Thieves Guild, he and Blake descended into the dig site. They had already killed a few spiders, but none of them matched the description a guard had given them for Nimhe. It wasn't until they came into a room that looked like a Dwemer entrance that the car-sized spider with distinctive green markings dropped down from the ceiling.

"Holy Hell!" Blake muttered as she drew Gambol Shroud and the Blade of Woe.

"I'll get its attention! Flank it!" Brynjolf commanded. As Blake rushed around to the side, the Nord slashed his sword at the spider, catching its attention. His sword didn't bite far into it, as he was doing what he could to keep a decent distance between them, eyes on its sharp front legs and fangs. Blake jumped in from the side and sliced her sword at one leg joint, then stabbed with the dagger. Nimhe chittered in pain and tried to turn, but did so sloppily now that one leg was rendered useless. Brynjolf took the opportunity to cut at its face, blinding several of its eyes. The spider slashed at him with a limb, but the Nord thief blocked as he leaped back. Blake ducked in and stabbed up between the abdomen and head, hitting the soft flesh between carapaces. Green ichor poured out and Nimhe fell, where Brynjolf tossed a glass bottle that shattered. The liquid inside steamed, but where it hit open wounds it began to bubble. He tried to add a few more, letting the poison sink into the spider more completely, but Nimhe leaped back to her feet and bit at him, only for Brynjolf to jump back and roll away. Blake then jumped up and stabbed down into the spider's head as she landed on its back. She jumped right back off, and Nimhe shook before falling, struggling to get to its feet, and then falling again.

Blake took a moment to catch her breath once the spider's twitching began abating, then looked at Brynjolf, who had cleaned off his sword and sheathed it.

"What was that?"

"Little mix on Frostbite venom. Add some chaurus egg mash and the stuff will eat them up from the inside. Only problem is getting it inside of them." He chuckled and looked around the room. His gaze stopped on something and Blake looked over to see a relatively fresh corpse sitting before a set of doors that had been webbed over completely. She hopped up onto the platform to get a better look, and found it to be a corpse in Imperial armor, the flesh dried to the bone and a thin layer of silk around it. There was a piece of paper tied to his belt, so she took it out and unfolded it.

Salonia,

We've been saddled with some researchers who can't go four steps without examining something and they fight about as well as you'd think… probably worse. Stromm at least has some magical competence but none of them can swing a sword. Erj and Krag seem up to something so I'll have to keep an eye on them, but Staubs assures me they're trustworthy.

Alethius

Blake lowered the paper then looked at the door and the corpse. A part of her wanted to make sure these people were okay, but there was another, more urgent matter on her mind at the moment. For all she knew, they never went any further. The Faunus sighed and almost mechanically handed the note to Brynjolf when he walked up next to her.

"Looks like there's a lost expedition," he said.

"Yeah, but it's not our job." Blake turned and started heading back to the palace proper. Brynjolf paused a moment, then followed her out. However, even as they left it behind, Blake found her mind wandering to it and rubbed her thumb across the paper note. She took in a deep breath and hoped that Calcelmo's regulars would be able to go deeper now with Nimhe gone and find the missing researchers.

The Dwemer Museum wasn't not impressive, but Blake had been expecting it to be a little more expansive than a single room full of curiosities. Some of them were certainly interesting, and Brynjolf's gaze was caught for a long time on a particular Dwemer sword. After a few minutes of idle observation, Blake was given her opening and slipped into the back when no one was looking. Brynjolf followed a minute later, closing the door quietly behind him and locking it back.

"Did you steal the sword?" Blake asked when she saw a new Dwemer sword on his belt next to the steel one.

"What do you think I am? A thief?" The two smiled, then Brynjolf took the bag from his back. "Hope you brought your thieving armor," he said while taking his own set out.

"Yeah. People could kind of…recognize the other." There hadn't been one city where someone didn't ask to confirm if she was really the Shadowkiller, so she normally wore regular clothes on top of the armor. However, she had a slight problem now, and was about to mention it to Brynjolf, but instead had to quickly turn away when she saw that he was changing unabashedly next to her.

"You alright, lass?"

"Yeah, just… Don't look," she warned him.

"Well, I'm hurt, Belladonna. I thought you knew I was a gentleman?"

"Yeah, whatever." Blake took out her own Thieves Guild armor and changed into it, making sure to listen out for any incoming footsteps and occasionally looking at Brynjolf to make sure his eyes were elsewhere. Once done, she packed up her Shrouded Armor and threw the pack onto her back. Ready, the two thieves made their way in, pausing when a voice hit their ears.

"Sir, are you serious?"

"You heard me, captain. Our work must not be disturbed. Kill any intruders on sight. Call for backup if you need it. But let no one through."

"...As you say, sir."

"Well, that doesn't sound too good," Brynjolf muttered before looking around. He started heading into a room to the left, where a table with several scattered notes and devices lay, including a bronze and red rod. Blake hummed in appreciation of the design and picked it up while Brynjolf seemed to be going through a few Soul Gems to the side, then a clanking sounded out behind them and the two spun around to see a Dwarven spider automaton that had apparently just activated. Blake readied herself, but the machine did nothing but stand in place and swivel to and fro. Brynjolf poked at it with a foot and it turned to him, but as Blake feared the worst and wished it would just go away, it started walking away from the Nord to the other side of the room. The two blinked, then Blake looked down at her hand, noticing how the rod seemed to be reverberating with the droid's movement.

"That's not something you see every day," Brynjolf said.

"I…think this thing controls it." Blake held up the rod and imagined the droid following her commands. To her surprise, it seemed to obey, though clunkily. As she laughed at the novelty of finding a remote-controlled machine again after being in Skyrim for so long, Brynjolf lifted up a few notes and shuffled through them.

"Hm, seems there's a wizard boy who's been experimenting with this stuff. Says here he figured out how to use a control crystal after reassembling that thing." Brynjolf hummed while flipping through a few other pages. "Huh, seems to be Calcelmo's nephew. There's a lot of wizard stuff here."

Blake looked at the table and noticed a glowing piece and picked it up before looking at it closely. Brynjolf picked up the papers under it and read through them while Blake brought the piece closer to her eye.

"Says he can't figure this piece out. It glows when the spider is moving-"

"It's like a camera," Blake answered, controlling the machine while closing her other eye and relying on the eyepiece. The control was much less clunky now. "It's…weird. The droid has a three-sixty panoramic view, so it can actually see behind itself. This'll take some getting used to."

"Amazing! How much do you think this would go for?"

Blake chuckled before lowering the eyepiece and humming in thought. "If I was going to steal this, I'd keep it."

"Fair enough, I suppose. Can't imagine how useful something like this would be."

"Yeah. Hey, got a strip of leather or something I can use?"

Soon, they had the eyepiece tied to Blake's face and were walking out of the room. The clanking footstep of the machine made them flinch, however, so Blake tried to think of a workaround. Not seeing many options, she kneeled down and had the automaton climb onto her back, wrapping its legs over her shoulders and around her abdomen, the main body pressed to her backpack.

"Is'at fine with you?"

"Not too heavy. I've had heavier backpacks." Brynjolf nodded at that, and then the two went forward, pulling their hoods low. They went through a side room that looked like a sort of chapel, dodging the sights of a pair of guards and slipping through the locked door with a swiped key. The clanking of Dwarven machinery helped to mask their steps and movements as they went through.

"What do you think this is?" someone up ahead of them asked another.

"Another trap, most likely" a woman answered him. "Things are dangerous… Three of the guards died when the lower hall flooded with some steam last week." They talked about the dangers of working these halls as the two thieves went behind them, heading downwards and pausing at the head of a hall with green mist hanging in the air and water covering its floor.

"Looks like a heavy poison. Would probably go away if we can cut off the source," Brynjolf muttered. Blake noticed in her panoramic lens a pressure plate behind her, and so put a hand to the control rod and had the Dwemer machine hop down and walk over to rest on it. As it did and Brynjolf watched with arched brows, the poison in the air before them dispersed.

"After you," Blake offered, and the man smiled before heading through. They came across the three bodies apparently left to rot, though the poison seemed to preserve them somewhat, then exited the danger zone. Blake silently called the spider to them, and the hall filled with poison again as it left the pressure plate. It clanked through without a problem then hopped onto Blake's back again.

"Useful little thing," Brynjolf noted. "May have to borrow it after this."

They walked up and through the halls of the ruins, sneaking past a few guards as they did so. They had to stop as they came to a room where a few guards and an Altmer wizard were lounging about. Blake's ears focused on the elf's mumbling.

"Uncle thinks a few guards are all we need… Someone's going to sneak in and steal something, I know it."

Blake had to roll her eyes at the one revealed to be Aicantar. Unless they were guarding the blueprints to some secret weapon, it was hardly serious enough to warrant the security they already had. If anything, the Dwemer spider she was already in the process of stealing was worth far more than some linguistics. Of course the young Altmer continued to complain to himself, causing Blake's sensitive ears to lay flat under her hood and her teeth to grit in annoyance at his voice, which maintained a level of whiny petulance that not even Weiss had ever achieved at her worst.

Brynjolf looked over at a nearby valve, then traced the pipes that connected to it and wound their way around the room. He suddenly had a dastardly smile and gripped the valve control.

"Here goes," he whispered before giving it a good turn. Several pipes suddenly shot out plumes of fire while a twirling blade popped out of the ground in one place. One of the guards screamed as his arm was set alight, but he had enough of a mind to hit the ground in a roll, extinguishing it almost immediately. Aicantar screamed and ducked for cover, only to be pulled to his feet by another guard who rushed them out of the room and down the hall opposite of the thieves.

"Everyone, fall back! Run for it!"

"No, no! This can't be happening!"

The two waited a moment after the place was cleared, then Brynjolf turned the valve control back. The fire died away and the blades sank back into the floor, letting them safely walk in and through, though Brynjolf did pause for some looting. Blake decided to join, but only ended up taking a book called Chimarvamidium and some sort of Dwemer object that reminded her a bit of the brain-teaser toys back in Remnant. The other thief took just about everything of value, and a few things probably not worth that much.

They then proceeded through a door that led onto a balcony. Blake took in the breathtaking view of the city for a moment, leaning over the guardrails to look down before recalling they were sneaking and ducked back. She looked at the nearby waterfall and thought about how unfair it was such a nice place was wasted. They went on, going through another door into a large room with an upper balcony, then climbed up the stairs to the left to enter a room filled with scattered notes and etchings. Blake picked up a few and shuffled through them before spreading them out on a table then fishing out her scroll and snapping a photo of them, making sure it was stable and set to Hi-Res. She did this a few more times while Brynjolf went onto the balcony with some paper and charcoal. By the time she was done photographing everything that looked slightly useful, her partner-in-crime returned with new etchings.

"I think this stone was written in Falmer and Dwemer. Should help in getting that translation."

"Oh, uh…" Blake looked at everything she'd just recorded and then over at the stone. She walked over to get a closer look and sighed. "Yeah, I think everything in here is based on this thing. Don't suppose you can read Dwemer?"

"Sorry, lass."

"Well, back to Enthir, then. He should be able to figure out what Gallus' journal says from this much, at least." Just in case, Blake took a moment to snap a photo of both sides of the large, stone tablet. Almost as soon as she did, the entrance doors opened and a group of men marched through, Aicantar at their helm.

"Accidents like this just don't happen," the wizard's nephew bit out. "Someone is trying to sabotage my uncle's research."

"I... All right. If there is a thief, he won't leave this tower alive. But shouldn't we inform Master Calcelmo?"

"I'll deal with my uncle. Just...go! Scour this place from top to bottom!"

"All right men, spread out and search the tower. No telling who - or what - we're dealing with here."

Blake drew the Blade of Woe as they hid behind the stone and Brynjolf began shaking his head and hands.

"Remember the rules!" he whispered to her.

"I need something to block with," she told him before flipping over the stone then leaping down, catching the guards off-guard. Her knee went into one's gut then came back up and hit him across his upper chest, knocking him to the floor. Another tried to slash at her, but the dagger caught the blade between its tines and allowed Blake to flip the woman over her. Aicantar tried to bring up a spell, but Blake closed the distance and rammed her fist into his chest, knocking the breath out of him and breaking his concentration. She growled before socking him across the jaw like Yang had showed her. He hit the ground with a groan of pain and started curling in on himself. Brynjolf had jumped the guard captain and head-butted the last guard standing above their deadlocked weapons.

"Let's go," he shouted as they burst out past the doors, slamming them behind themselves. Blake looked around, figuring that guards had likely been alerted back the way they came, and it was only a short time before the ones they'd just left would be on their feet. She snapped her fingers and then touched the control rod.

A few moments later, the guards came out rushing after them, checking around the balcony before looking to the young wizard stumbling after them.

"Don't just stand there!" he squeaked out, still clutching his chest. "They have my spider and who knows how much more research! Find them!"

"Yes sir. They couldn't have gotten far. Men, spread the word throughout the tower. Leave no hall unsearched."

As the people left the balcony and went into the building, Blake allowed herself to groan. Touching the control rod, she commanded the spider to undo its grip on the very edge of the balcony that they were dangling beneath and climbed together side by side up the almost sheer rock face behind the waterfall while pulling up Brynjolf from below, the older thief keeping a tight grip on each of the stronger climbers. A pair of the spider's legs helped her to pull them up, then Brynjolf grabbed his own hold and got himself to safety.

"Phew!" the soaked Nord sighed as he collapsed. "That was one of the craziest escapes I've pulled yet."

"Not done just yet," Blake warned him. "We still have to get down or out of here. Any ideas?"

"Well, you know any levitating magic?"

"No."

"How about Drop Zone?"

"Sorry."

"Well then…" Brynjolf searched through his bag and pulled out a scroll, the enchanted paper resisting the water, but not immune to it. "Know how to aim a scroll spell?"

Weiss weaved together her latest enchantment experiment, combining her Semblance glyph with lightning magic, hoping to get the results she was after. She placed the ring on her finger, then rubbed a finger across it, feeling the world seemingly slow around her. To test its effect on her perspective, she grabbed a Petty Soul Gem and tossed it up, watching as it slowed its ascent once it left her hand, and just as slowly fell back down. Weiss suddenly felt alarmed by the ring's dropping energy reserves and cut off the enchantment, catching the Soul Gem as it dropped quicker.

Humming, she tapped the Soul Gem to her ring and let its energy recharge it. Just to run it for a few seconds had drained it halfway. Then again, this one was made with a Common Soul Gem. Now that she had the process down, she could craft another, stronger one with better ingredients all around. An amethyst gem on an ebony ring would probably channel it best, and being set with a Grand Soul Gem would put it at…almost maximum.

She eyed the Black Soul Gems and shuddered. Sure, they could hold any sort of soul, as the one she found before held just a regular Grand level White soul, but there would be no reason for them to be there unless someone was using them specifically for mortal souls. She didn't even want to touch them for fear of what might be just under the surface.

She felt the Petty Gem dissolve in her grasp and watched as it wicked away into the ether. The things reminded her of Dust in so many ways. Someday, when she was certain of her understanding of them, she'd have to take out the last samples of Dust she had and see if any of her dozens of theories there held any water.

In the midst of her musings and jotting of notes, Giledie walked into the laboratory.

"Uh, um, e-e-excuse me, Lady Schnee," she started. Her stutter seemed permanent, rather than just an effect of fear like Weiss had originally suspected. Even in the rare moments the poor girl was completely comfortable, she still tripped over her words. "Um, Lord Harkon has called for a d-d-dinner tonight and he wa-w-w-wants you to be p-present."

Weiss sighed. She tried avoiding almost everyone else as much as she could, especially more than one in a single place, but sometimes it was unavoidable. And, if Harkon wanted her there, it meant that there was basically no choice in the matter. Playing the part of the dutiful and loyal subject wasn't foreign to her, but she still hated it.

"Very well, I'll be there."

"Th-they also said y-y-you sh-should let the kitchens know wh-what you wish to eat."

Groaning, Weiss nodded. "Very well. We'll stop by there. I'm through here, and we should start getting ready."

"We?"

"If you don't-"

"No! I-I mean, no, it's f-f-f-fine, ma'am. I'll join y-you."

Weiss nodded and gave no further objections. The girl felt safer with her. Serana was a close second, but Weiss had a feeling that they could be surrounded by fiery Daedra on a rock in the center of an active volcano, and Gilly would still feel safer there next to Weiss than on her own in some cold and quiet den. Attachment did not adequately describe what the younger vampire felt for her. If she had to make a comparison, Weiss felt Gilly was akin to a lost puppy.

Before going to her own private chambers, Weiss decided to stop by Serana's. The room had been hers before and no one was allowed to so much as enter them since she had left. Of course, entropy cares for no man's opinions, so the room needed to be restored when she returned. Mostly they just replaced the rotten furniture, swept up dust and cobwebs, and repaired the ceiling. Serana herself was at her desk, looking over some old antiques and a yellow-paged book. Weiss knocked, and she turned from her work to them.

"Ah, hello there. Everything all right?"

"Yes. It's just that your father has apparently invited me to dinner. I was wondering if you were coming."

"I am. I think everyone important is coming. Probably has some big announcement for the next step of his 'master plan'." Weiss couldn't help but smirk at the way Serana rolled her eyes at that. She knew the woman had been around for two hundred years before her interment in Dimhollow, yet she still kept up an air of youthful incivility. She had to wonder whether or not that was just 'in' over three thousand and five hundred years ago. "Anyways, mind taking a look at this? I think it has to do with some of my mother's research."

"Some of your mother's things?" Weiss asked as she approached and looked at the writing in the book. It was definitely an archaic script, but here and there were words that seem familiar. 'Herr' she knew was ancient Nordic for 'when', but that was almost it. 'Kor' at least, looked familiar. "Sorry, I can't read the old languages."

"Yeah, I was afraid of that. It's some kind of poem about a 'Last Dragonborn'."

"Oh? Does it say 'When misrule takes place at the eight corners of the world'?"

"Yes… Almost exactly that, in fact. How did you…know?"

"It was in another book I read. It's called the 'Prophecy of the Last Dragonborn'." Weiss rubbed her chin in thought. "I wonder why your mother was interested in that."

"Who can say, honestly? There was a lot my mother kept secret." Serana closed the old book then stood up and stretched. "Well, guess we better get ready for dinner."

The kitchens received all of the higher vampires' orders so that they could make each meal to the taste of its recipient. Weiss ordered what was, in her mind, a simple affair, but the cook seemed confused about the lack of blood until she explained that she preferred it separate and in a cup. As dinner was served, it became apparent why that was seen as odd. Several vampires ate nothing, but were only served large mugs of blood. Others had food served to them, but marinated in the red substance. There were some with seemingly normal food using blood as gravy or another sauce, and others with raw meat set for them. Weiss couldn't be sure, but something told her that some of that meat came from men and mer rather than some animal.

"Ah, glad to see you join us today," Weiss heard before turning around to see Natha joining them. They were all at the same table as Harkon, though Serana sat two seats away from him, with Vingalmo and Garan between her and him. Weiss sat to her left, and now Natha was sitting next to her, at the end of the table. Gilly came back moments later, but Natha quickly gestured to the nearest table and its empty seat at the end. "Luckily, I caught you there. We wouldn't want Lord Harkon to feel insulted allowing a lesser vampire to sit at his table."

"She's not lesser," Weiss said before she could stop herself, wincing at the slip-up.

"Perhaps you don't see it that way, but to Harkon, we are all lesser vampires, with the exception of our dear princess," she added while flashing a smile to Serana. "Ones like you and I have just been given special privileges for services rendered."

"What are you doing here, Natha?" Serana suddenly asked.

"I was one of those invited. There are some important discussions to be had after dinner. I suppose I'm a part of it, or at least, I need to know about it in some way." Her food was set before her. It was mostly normal, except her steak's halves were blue, barely cooked at all, and her mashed potatoes had blood sitting in them. She began spooning a little of it over her steak, then began stirring her potatoes in. Weiss winced, but then something else caught her eyes. What looked like a little girl younger than ten was led up to a table, a Nordic male vampire grinning wide at her appearance. One look in her eyes let Weiss know she was apparently a chattel-slave thrall, only enough consciousness left to her to tend to her own basic needs, yet someone had taken the time to clean her up and dress her. The man picked the girl up and set her on the table in front of him, laughing with some of the others sitting with him about his apparent 'meal'.

Weiss felt livid, but a crunching sound hit her ears, and she looked to the side to see Natha's hand clenching her mug such that her fingers were slowly sinking into it, compressing the metal. The vampire girl's teeth were gritting furiously and her eyes were glowing with venom. Before Weiss could say anything, she felt a cold presence fall around her and all across the room.

"What is that?!" Harkon's voice demanded, causing all others to go quiet.

"M-my lord, it's just my din-"

"I explicitly said to order a meal from the kitchens, not the thrall pens!" he cut off the vampire's excuse. "There will be no bodies sprawled across the tables tonight!"

The vampire looked like he want to offer some words, but whatever they were got stuck in his throat, and he bowed.

"My apologies, Lord Harkon."

"Don't let it happen again. Now send it back."

The underling nodded and set the thrall on her feet, where she began walking away as though confused, which most chattel thralls did whenever they walked anywhere.

"Since we've already broken the peace tonight, I will go ahead and announce our next moves," Harkon began, bringing all attention back to him. "I have agents sowing ahead for us, but until then, there is a precaution we must take. A member of the esteemed Direnni clan has taken up a hidden residence here in Skyrim." There were a few mutterings, but they quickly hushed down. Weiss knew of the Direnni clan by legend and tale. One book she had read even described how one of the clan's early members, Raven Direnni, had been the one to discover the methods of modern enchanting through the usage of Soul Gems. "While we are not completely certain, we believe she may be readying a deal between her clan and their isle with the recent vampire hunting guild that has sprouted up. Even if she is not, she will be a valuable hostage to take. We shall send forth a group to take her prisoner. I have already chosen who shall lead this mission: Weiss Schnee."

Weiss felt all the eyes in the room land on her, and so put forth her best public face.

"You have proven your value to us once before, but this time you will not be alone. You will take a number of vampires to assist you, as well as several thralls I have hand-picked. Everyone may feel free to volunteer themselves or one of their children, but you shall only take five vampires, no more. Any questions?"

"I am honored, my lord," Weiss said while standing and bowing. "When shall we leave?"

"The night after tomorrow. You will have these two days to plan and prepare. Do so with caution. This elf is a master conjurer, and you will be pressed to survive long before you ever reach her. You will be given the necessary implements to ensure her capture. We will go over more details later. For now, everyone, let us feast."

With their master's blessing, everyone went back to digging in. Weiss sat back down and thought over the mission she was just given and what it meant. The Direnni were once the rulers of High Rock and a realm that was once their own empire, and still controlled to this day the island of Balfiera, where one of the most important landmarks of the world rested, the Adamantine Tower. They were one of the most renowned extant families in existence.

And Harkon was planning to kidnap one of them.

Trying to drive her mind off of her impending task, Weiss looked back at Serana, who seemed to be engrossed in counting peas, then to Natha, recalling her reaction to the man with the child thrall.

"Are you alright?"

The vampire simply smiled. "Fine, deary. I'm fine. I just…" She looked back at the man and Weiss saw a hint of rage in her eyes. "I don't care for being insulted."

Weiss didn't know what she meant by that, but she almost preferred not knowing.

Yang heard a beeping and opened up her scroll to see a message from Weiss. Wondering what it could be, she opened it and read it, her eyes widening with every sentence until she sat up in her sleeping bag.

"Hey anyone here still awake?" she asked to the camp. She then heard Rumarin groan.

"No."

"Hey, is there a Courier's Guild outpost at Rorickstead?" she asked him. The Altmer groaned again from his tent and she heard him shuffle around.

"Maybe? I don't know. They should at least have a pickup box. Why?"

"I just got an urgent message and… Oh, Ruby should be able to send it!" Yang forwarded Weiss' message to her sister, then typed up her own additional instructions.

"Was it really that unimportant?"

"Dude, vampires are planning something. It was very important. Uh, I think. Do you know what a Direnni is?"

"Special merchant clan or something. Go to sleep, Yang." She wanted to ask him more, but figured it was better to let the Altmer get his rest. She didn't want to wake up the other two either, but didn't think she could rest now with what she'd learned.

'Well, sorry local wildlife,' she thought before leaving her tent and beginning the search for something to sink her teeth into.

'Crime novels and movies would suggest returning to the scene of a crime to be a bad move,' Blake thought after walking away from Calcelmo's little space, now with a signed copy of Dwarves, The Lost Race of Tamriel in hand. However, like Brynjolf had said, it was better to seem like they were here on their own schedule and not the schedule of a pair of thieves.

Said thieves were now the talk of the palace. The guard captain was beefing up security, Ondolemar – the Thalmor agent – was thinking of adding more wards to his quarters, Aicantar was trying to convince Calcelmo to let him take self-defense courses so that another 'random Cyrod woman' wouldn't be able to so effortlessly beat him into the ground. Even Tynaus was checking to make sure all of his crows and ravens were accounted for.

Blake left the keep while doing her best to not let her face show a knowing smirk. Her hand gripped a sheathed mace at her side and the straps of her Backpack adjusted. Luckily, the Centaurs had a mystic among their number, and they were more than happy to greatly alter the appearance of the control rod, no questions asked.

She left the city behind and readied herself to head back to Winterhold. Brynjolf was getting on a carriage back to Riften, but he'd be ready for her when she got there.

She just prayed she would have the proof they needed.

29th of Sun's Dusk