THE CURSED TRIBE
The Harbinger
The giant swings down on us again. He is relentless. Very quick. But not resourceful. When Aerin throws a firebolt at the great beast's club, it is soon engulfed in flames and useless. This is a surprise to me. I thought it would be the perfect weapon then.
Instead, in a fit of rage, the giant yells and stomps one of his large feet on the ground. The forest shakes with the impact. I hold on to a shaken tree and wait. In a moment, he will turn, and I will have the best target for my arrows.
"Get away!" Vilkas yells to the orcs near us. This is how we found them, kept in their stronghold because of a giant problem outside the door. Although, they haven't been too grateful for our aid. I pull back the string of my bow. A few more breaths and I'll be ready. I just need to wait for him to be distracted at just the right moment…
A knife goes flying through the air and nearly misses Aerin. He was only lucky because of his newfound werewolf reflexes. "Hey! I think they attacked me!" He points to the Orcs that are slowly encroaching on our space.
I reposition, just a little bit, and my arrow is now pointed in their direction. "Wait." Vilkas says. I know he says this for Aerin's benefit too. My friend now has fire engulfing his forearms.
"Halt! You have no business here, outsiders. Leave at once!" The woman near the front of the group yells.
She has no time for more harsh words. A large fist comes crashing to the ground right between the two groups. The trees rattle in its wake but the giant is not finished. He roars, loud and guttural. If I'm not mistaken, he is mourning over his mammoth. Usually they ran in pairs and the giants are more protective of the mammoths than one would think.
I pull my bow down and get ready to shout over the group. I think I know a way to end this peacefully, let the giant go and wander elsewhere. Instead, arrows fly from the Orcs and from the stronghold. In seconds the giant is pulverized and falling dead to the ground.
I gape at it. The poor thing was in mourning, wandering and lost in his grief and this is his end. "Finally! That only took two days!" A low voice yells from the stronghold.
My companions and I are still on defense. I crouch and wait. With one signal to their mind I can have them as a wolf in seconds. We can tear through the Orcs if need be. But inside that stronghold is where Malacath wants us, at least that is what I've heard from the various Princes who come and go.
"Outsiders! We will not warn you again!" The woman yells once more.
I step out from the shadow of one of the great trees. "We mean no harm." I lower my bow to further that statement. Keep your eyes on them and at any sign of a fight change forms. I tell my companions.
They are in agreement. But the Orcs are finicky as I remember. They are stubborn and don't take fondly to outsiders, not that I could blame them. They usually wish the Orcs harm. "I will repeat myself. I am Mjoll the Harbinger of the Companions. We mean no harm we just wish to speak to your leader. We've heard of your plights."
This is somewhat true. One of the Princes, the Prince of Madness raved before he gave us this information. This tribe was dealing with a curse. Their chief, Chief Yamarz has been weakened from this curse. If we can reverse it, we get the last Daedric Artifact.
The Orcs are showing through their rigid body language that they want to tell us off again. And if we don't leave, they will fight us. But the woman is smart. "Fine. Come with me, you can talk to Atub."
She leads us into the stronghold. Leave your weapons sheathed. I command the others. If they attack, change into your wolf form. We can then outrun their arrows.
What if this is a trick? An ambush? Vilkas questions. I shoot him a look, but he brushes my hand. It's an honest question. How can we trust these Orcs?
Because the Princes have said we can. We need this final Artifact.
This ends the conversation. I shut off my mind to them to only focus on the present. Right through the log gates we find a standard Orc stronghold fit with a longhouse and smaller dwellings surrounding it. But unlike most Orc settlements, the inhabitants are not vivacious and confident. Their morale has been tampered with. I can see it in the way some of them walk. The slow beat of a hammer in the background from one of the blacksmith. Even the guards seem weary. Largashbur has definitely been dealing with something that is rotting it from the core.
The other Orcs go ahead to talk to the woman in mage robes. She stands near what looks like a shrine, a single, flat rock is covered in offerings in the form of weapons and ingredients. When her bright eyes seek mine, I speak. "What has happened here?"
"Mjoll the Lioness, of the Companions." She greets me, "Our tribe is suffering. We need help." Her voice sounds broken. It is a statement to their own despair that they would let outsiders in, much less Nords with beast blood.
"Our Chief, Yamarz was once a strong and proud warrior. Now he is stricken, cursed." She continues, "He is weak and so our tribe is weak. The giants sense this and intrude on our territory. Now they assault our very home. Yamarz refuses help but I sense that you may be just what we need." Her eyes search me for any sign of aid.
"We will help you." I vow, "What is it you need?"
"Yamarz has demanded we stay inside the walls. We cannot leave. I must petition Malacath for relief. This curse must be lifted. I cannot travel to Malacath's shrine. The ritual must be done here, and I do not have the materials I need." She pauses and glances around her home. "I beg of you, can you bring me Troll Fat and a Daedra Heart? I have no wish to depend on a stranger, but I have no choice."
I nod. "Yes, I will. I will get it to you soon." I then have a thought. Something I need to ask because I know I won't get a straight answer from any of the Princes. "What do you know of Malacath?"
Her eyes widen in shock, "You do not know of Malacath? He is the keeper of oaths, the master of curses. He is quick to anger and slow to forgive. One who wrongs Malacath is one who will endure great torment in return. He demands loyalty and strength from his orcs. We have tried to please him, but he is now angry with us and so we suffer."
As I thought. The Daedric Prince of oath and curses and also revered as the god of the Orsimer. It is no wonder why the Orcs believe the offering at his shrine will take away their curse. I can't question it, just do as I am said. So, I walk back to my companions.
"We need a Daedra Heart and Troll Fat." I tell them.
Vilkas's brow furrows, it only accentuates his lovely face in the diffused lighting. The sun has been blanketed by clouds for days in this region. "A Daedra Heart and Troll Fat? Are we to slay these creatures or can we buy them from an alchemist?"
"I can give you a token or two." Sheogorath laughs, he is positioned by the entrance to the Orc stronghold, his back leaning against one of the great logs.
I suppress a shudder. It is also no wonder why Eve can sometimes be in a poor mental state. I can only imagine how terrifying it would be to have these Princes pop out of nowhere every few seconds. At least Sheogorath is allowing us to see him and not manipulating objects around us while invisible. I heard Molag Bal was one for those kinds of tricks…
"You have the ingredients?" Aerin perks up and smiles at the Prince. As usual, I don't think his privileged upbringing taught him much about making deals with the Daedra. All he knew about them was from what he read. It is very easy to fall into their trap when one doesn't know what to look for.
"Sheogorath." I draw his attention back to me. "You have the ingredients? Or shall we make our way to Riften for a shopping spree?" I raise a bow and curl my lips into a little wicked smile. Anything to keep his eyes on me and thinking I'm just having a little fun. Not worrying about my companions falling into a deal.
"Well, I was going to say you had to go all the way to Solitude to get the ingredients, would be mighty fun to see the Pelagius wing again! But since the Witch has that hold under lock and key, we can't goof around any more than a sailor caught in the storm of the century." He grins and pulls out the Heart and Troll Fat from his jacket. "So, I present to you, your ingredients."
I don't move from where I stand. "What payment to do you ask for?"
He barks out a laugh. "Payment? No! All the payment I want is for you to hurry up. The Night Mother is getting brazen." He tosses the ingredients and Aerin is the first to catch them. When I look back to Sheogorath for an elaboration on his statement he is gone.
"By Ysgramor I wish they would stop doing that!" Vilkas kicks a nearby rock. "Showing up out of nowhere just to goad us like we're children!"
"They are very old creatures, Vilkas." I chide, "Of course they would get bored."
"Can't believe Eve was seeing them for so long." Aerin gets closer and hands me the ingredients. "Since she came to Skyrim, that's what she told me."
I think on that too. Not for the first time I feel a pang of regret. I could have prevented a lot of what she went through and most of what we are dealing with now if I had just gotten to her sooner. A warm hand lands on my shoulder.
"It is in the past. Just remember we still have a fighting chance." Vilkas whispers. I wince, I wasn't aware of my thoughts being broadcast to everyone.
"It's not so bad." Aerin says, cheery as ever. "We get more adventure and more of a chance to see Skyrim! I hadn't been to this area before… oh, and the wolf powers! That's been fun." He keeps chattering as we walk back to the makeshift shrine. The Orc woman, Atub focuses on the ingredients in my hands. The Daedra Heart has stiffened from either preservation or frost and the Troll Fat is secured in a small bowl. I hold both out to her.
"Here is everything you asked me to bring." I say, watching her expression. I hope she doesn't know a Daedric Prince brought it to us, I'm not sure if it would be considered cheating.
"Excellent. Now, you must come with me. You've become a part of this. You must be present for the ritual." She leads on without a word. I consider while I watch her approach the Longhouse. They might be intimidated if I bring the others with me, but they did ask for our help. I jerk my head to the side to signal Vilkas and Aerin.
When we enter the Longhouse, I find a modest room with a fireplace brewing. "You bring an outsider here and now insist I call on Malacath for help, when he has clearly forsaken me? You try my patience, Atub." A gravelly voice says. I find the source, a strong Orc covered in armor and riddled with the weight of the infectious curse.
"Doing nothing will not grant our tribe relief from this curse." Atub responds, "We must try."
"Grr. Fine, let's get this over with." The Orc gives me a sharp and condescending look. I am guessing this is Yamarz. And instead of preforming the ritual in here, we are directed back outside to the makeshift shrine.
"Now, we begin the ritual…" Atub begins by raising her hands to the heavens before the offerings. "Great Malacath, we beseech you, aid us in our time of need…"
"Why are we bothering with this?" Yamarz grumbles. He doesn't take his eyes off me and the others.
Vilkas rubs my shoulder. I don't like his attitude.
I don't either I admit, But think if we were in his position. If we were cursed. People get desperate and irritated when they feel backed into a corner.
Vilkas's hand stops. I guess you are right. But I'm still going to watch him.
"What is that?" Atub pauses in her declarations. "Malacath has heard my pleas! He speaks to us!"
My group keeps our eyes on the begruntled leader, so we are not prepared for the voice that sounds overhead. "You dare summon me, Yamarz?"
"What! What is that?" Yamarz looks around him, as if the Prince is here. But we see no one. Instead the voice sounds again.
"You don't deserve to call yourself an Orc! You're weak, you're small, and you're an embarrassment!" The voice sputters, "You let giants…Giants! Overrun my shrine. Bring me their leader's club as an offering and I might release you from this curse!"
When the voice fades Atub pins her gaze on Yamarz. "So it will be. Malacath has spoken, Yamarz. Your path is clear."
Yamarz nearly rolls his eyes, a strange thing to see on such a prideful Orc. But before I can judge his attitude further, he addresses us. "Very well. You. Outsiders come here! I want a word."
I glance at my companions and don't need to look into their thoughts to see their disdain. They follow me when I circle the shrine to face the Chief. "This is all your fault you know." He growls down to me from his towering height.
I don't break my eye contact, even thought my instincts scream at me to. The Chief continues his tirade and I feel my companions' bristle. Stay calm. I tell them.
"I'm stuck fighting a giant now thanks to you. So, you're going to help me. You're going with me and you're going to make sure I don't have any trouble reaching that giant." He commands. I watch him, as most dominant Orcs, this one will not take no for an answer. But good thing we need this offering for Malacath.
"Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while." He gives a slight smile to lessen the tension. But he doesn't need to.
"We will. We need to speak with Malacath ourselves. What would you have us do?" I question. While he ponders his answer, I check in with the others.
Is he trustworthy? Aerin asks.
No. He is not trustworthy. I say immediately to the two of them since the bond only connects me to one wolf. They cannot hear each other. Keep your guard up and make sure he is doing as he said. I don't trust him not to double cross us.
Mjoll…that glint in his eye. It usually means someone is watching their prey. Vilkas says.
And maybe he is. But he will underestimate our strength, as Orcs usually do.
The silent conversation comes to an abrupt end when Yamarz breaks the silence. "This giant…its not the only thing in Fallowstone Cave. Getting to it isn't going to be easy. You're going to clear a path to the giant, so I can conserve my strength. I'll make sure you're paid for it." He grins but the intent falls flat.
I've never heard of an Orc needing to "conserve his strength" they are usually like wild beasts. Wanting to kill everything in sight! Vilkas mentions. I take some objection to it, not all Orcs are the same just like all Nords are not alike. However, in this case I think he is correct. Yamarz is planning something.
Aerin you watch our backs. Vilkas stay with me right behind Yamarz. I am not worried about the giants, as we have heard now, Yamarz is the greater threat.
Hey, I can hold my own! Aerin proclaims.
I know… I wish to say more but Yamarz speaks again more slowly, as if we didn't pick up on his words.
"Soooo," He enunciates, "You meet me at Fallowstone Cave." He draws out the sentence. "We'll get this over with and I can have my tribe back…" He then returns to his normal voice. "And you… can leave us alone."
I motion for him to lead. No more words need to be said. The animosity from the Chief is stifling. I would rather have him keep underestimating us until the last moment anyways.
The cave isn't very far from Largashbur. We arrive in as good as shape as we did to the Orc sanctuary. Me and my companions are no worse for wear but Yamarz is breathing heavily. I am guessing his long time away from the fight has worn on him.
"If there's a chance this will save me, then I'm taking it." He glances at me. "I'll lead the way, but you'd better back me up."
"We will, as I said we would." I say in a calm manner. "We will keep you safe until we find the giant's leader."
His upper lip curls into what one might call a smile. I see it differently. "Let's get this over with."
Grumpy guy, huh? Aerin asks.
I try to hide my smirk as Yamarz fiddles with his sword. Quite so. But anyone would feel that way in his position. Think of it, it's almost like a Jarl failing his duties and brining down the Hold he watches over. It is not good for reputation or status.
Man, you'd think you were the one holed up with books for years! I'm nothing but a lowly peasant compared to your emotional intelligence. Aerin says. I laugh and elbow him in the ribs. "You know, I'm not always intelligent. One time I was fighting bandits over in the Reach. I pulled Grimsever and the poor man across from me almost soiled himself! I took that as the sign that I would win so I dove into the fight."
"What happened?" Aerin tries to fake whisper. Vilkas is listening in with a smile on his face and Yamarz is showing impatience.
"Well, you could say I got a new haircut. Lost about two inches off the bottom but I stabbed the bandit well enough for him to regret it."
"A Mjoll with long hair! Whoever would have thought?" Aerin laughs, "I thought long hair was a nuisance when you needed to fight…"
"Shut up fools!" Yamarz growls from the front of the pack. He's crouched down and glancing this way and that. I notice the sheen of sweat on his forehead which he quickly wipes away. It hasn't been incredibly hot the past few days…
"Down there." He whispers. I peer over the edge, right over his shoulder to find two giants mulling about the ground. It wasn't common belief, but they were usually foragers, they preferred not to fight and only did so when threatened. As the Orc was about to do now.
The stupid man actually picks up a rock and flings it down into the cavern. I'm itching to grab him by the scruff of the neck and keep him in the back of the line. "There." He huffs, "Now go fight them for me."
One giant roars. He shakes his club at us from down below. A sign to stay away. "Wait." I tell the others. "There is a way around, we don't need to fight them."
"Are you an idiot? Of course, you do! They're the reason my clan is starving! The reason you came here, and you gave me your word." Yamarz is now standing over me. I feel Vilkas trying to get between us, but I keep him back. This is my fight.
"I said we would help you, not fight the innocent out of an unearned prejudice. They mean no harm."
"Really?" He raises a brow and before I can stop him, he throws another rock down below. Another roar sounds. I wish to tackle the Chief but misplaced anger will get you nowhere. So, I turn to face the angered beasts.
One is raising his club, a very formidable weapon, it can send someone flying in the air higher than a hundred feet! But I cannot focus on that trivia for now. The Giant raises his club again and brings it down. The platform we stand on begins to shake, rocks are rattled out of their resting place and topple down.
"He's going to erode the cave!" Yamarz nearly squeals. I glance at him, a simmering stare as Eve would call it. But I try to keep my patience with the man. "Aerin. Some magic?" I ask.
"On it." He gets as close to the edge as possible. I wish to pull him back, just a little bit more, so he won't topple over like the rocks before him. He ignores my paranoia with a quick look and begins to throw firebolts.
They soar over our heads, down into the cavern and they light up the space. Showing me that it is a vast cave, one that would be able to house more than five giants. So, I hope Yamarz doesn't want to pull anymore tricks with those rocks.
One giant screams a bloodcurdling sound when the fire engulfs his head. Two more firebolts and he is brought to his knees. The other giant is taken down by Vilkas and myself, our bow and arrows are coming in handy again. I forgot I rarely use them.
When the giant falls dead Yamarz lets out a sight of relief. "That was close. Good thing I have you all, even if you are meddling with Orc affairs." He doesn't glance back at us to see our own annoyance. Vilkas is absolutely fuming.
"Try not to anger them more. We are trying to get to the shrine in one piece." He spits out before I can stop him.
Yamarz barely gives him the time of day. "Did I bring the wrong people? Should I let you go?" Or keep us in. I hear the undercurrent of a threat.
"Keep going. Hopefully there will be no more Giants waiting for us." I say, a firm and final statement.
The others stay quiet. The group is tense as we cross a great river. It is something that these giants could find their path across it. They don't have to worry about the current as much as other races. A bear and a troll or two are the only creatures we find on our journey. When we get to the grove Yamarz breaks out into an all out run. So much so that we nearly have to chase him as wolves.
I hear the giant mulling along down below, I don't have to look down the ridge to know he is alone but that he will also be the most dangerous. Yamarz comes to a dead halt and spins. "All right, I'll go kill this giant. Unless, of course, you'd like to make some extra gold."
I come to a stop too. I hold my arms out slightly to keep the others from running down to the giant. "What do you mean?"
"I'm tired. I haven't slept well in weeks." Yamarz huffs, "You kill the giant, bring me the hammer. We go back to Largashbur, I tell everyone I did it. You keep your mouth shut and I pay you. Handsomely."
I can't help but smile. I keep it from fully forming so he doesn't see this. I know what this is. The Orc are a prideful race, if we were to kill this giant, he would certainly come for us afterwards. I decide to call the bluff.
"But you said you were supposed to do it." I state.
He huffs again, "Fine, then wait here. This should only take a second." He sneers at the men in my company then runs down the hill. I motion the others to follow at a safe distance, when we have the giant in view we have the pleasure, or great disdain, of seeing Yamarz pull his sword. The giant turns and since he is so big the motions are slower, so we can see clearly when the club comes down, Yamarz is either too arrogant or too tired to notice his blind spot. But the weapon is already in freefall, when the club comes down it smacks him straight into the ground.
"Oof, that's not good." Aerin winces next to me.
I don't think, I run. I race down to where the giant is and fling an arrow behind him. He turns to watch it and in his brief distraction I take in Yamarz's form. He is pulverized into the ground. Not even changing him over with beast blood would save him now.
I retreat. "Dead." I say to the others. "Let's finish this."
"Good. I don't have to kill him myself." Vilkas murmurs.
I feel a pang of regret. We were tasked with protecting Yamarz and bringing him back home. But I need to trust my instincts, the Orc was going to try and dispose of us no matter what. He saw us as intruders and nothing more than useful pawns.
It takes a few minutes. Another dance with arrows, firebolts, and the giant club. But once he makes the grave mistake of landing a blow a little too close to Aerin, I fling a perfect arrow home. Straight through the back of the neck. The giant falls dead, his large club rolling off to the side.
"Yamarz was a fool. Always trying to scheme his way out of responsibility." Malacath's voice enters the grove. "But, you took care of him and the giants. Two problems solved at once. Now, take Shagral's hammer back to Largashbur and we'll see about whipping the rest of them into shape." I wait to hear if there are more commands but all we hear is the silence.
"Ominous." Aerin says.
"As always," Replies Vilkas. "Where is the club?"
"Here." I call out. The club is still next to the giant, so I retrieve it. It is a very heavy weapon, very sturdy and powerful. Yamarz didn't stand a chance.
Largashbur is on the horizon. We race to get through the gates as quickly as possible. Once we get to the shrine and return the weapon, we not only free the stronghold, we get the final Artifact. Atub is next to the shrine, praying. When she hears our approach she opens her brown eyes to focus on me.
"I have returned with Shagral's hammer." I hold it out to her as an offering.
She glances around my companions, "But…what of Yamarz?"
I pause, I'm not sure how to break the news. Afterall, his intentions on disposing of us were only speculation. "His death was noble." Is all I can muster up.
"I see. He did not survive. He died well?"
"He fought bravely, but the giant overwhelmed him." Vilkas tells her.
Atub closes her eyes. "That is good to hear then." She pauses, "Yamarz was a coward and a weakling. His deceitful ways have cost you all greatly."
I gape but quickly recover, "He was deceiving us, but he did die a noble death. He was not coerced into fighting the giant for us."
"Quite the contrary." Vilkas murmurs behind me.
"So he has been punished?" Atub's tone becomes harsh. I know it's not directed at us, more so at the situation. "And what of us? What fate shall we suffer? You'll have to prove yourselves, but I'm willing to give you a chance. Gularzob's in charge now. Let's hope he's a better chief." Her downcast gaze falls once again on the hammer I hold. "You, place that hammer on the shrine. You're the only one who's proven worthy in all of this…."
I do as I am told. I place the hammer on the shrine, balanced on the antlers of a dead stag. Right before our eyes the hammer melts into a daedric looking weapon. It is a large hammer with something that looks like an eye in the center. The Artifact is glowing green.
"Good job, beasts." A voice sounds behind us. I turn to find another Orc sitting on the flat rock of the shrine. Only he is bare chested and riddled with scars. His disturbing face shines green in the light and his smile is menacing even though I know he is trying to be friendly.
"Thought I'd only show myself to the oracle?" Malacath asks.
"I thought so. But more Princes have been showing their faces around here." I say.
"Good, they're getting more comfortable with the beasts. Even thought you've acted as support for the oracle you are still important. Take my Artifact." He motions to the large hammer above him. It seems too heavy for the antlers holding it but hold it they do.
"Voldendrung. Use it wisely but I know you will." He gives a fierce grin before fading with the breeze.
"Huh, he didn't say anything about destroying the Night Mother." Aerin says.
I step up on the smooth stone, right where Malacath was sitting and take Voldendrung from it's pedestal. Power seeps into my hands, much like other Daedric Artifacts I've touched. They will be useful because they are strong and crafted for creatures close to the divine. But as I've told my companions, they cannot be drawn into the weapon's power. They are still evil in nature, no matter how we choose to use them over the coming weeks.
In answer to Aerin I say, "He doesn't have to say because he knows. Our goal now is singular with the Princes. We will fight the Night Mother and make sure her reign ends before it can truly begin."
Back in Riften the skies are nearly clear. A rarity for this city. But I have little time to marvel at it, we needed to get to the Ragged Flaggon as soon as we set foot in the city. I resist the urge to scrunch my nose up in disgust when we make our way down the Ratways.
Ash litters the ground here and there, very old ash. New rodents are feasting on whatever decaying matter they can find. The walls are covered in dirt and mildew. I don't expect anyone down here to be doing any cleaning. But I cannot understand how someone can stay here long term.
Things change slightly when we enter the Ragged Flaggon. A modest circular lake, if you would call it that, sits in the center. Me and the others have to skirt the body of water to make it to the bar area.
There we find many people, Vex, Delvin, Brynjolf, amongst other thieves. The ones I do not know don't look kindly to us. I keep my head up and posture rigid. It is best to let them know who they're dealing with.
"Brynjolf, we have the final Artifact." I hold out Voldendrung.
He spins from where he was at one of the tables. I expect to see Eve behind him but instead I find Nocturnal. She smiles and addresses the crowd. "We are finished."
"Where's Eve?" Vilkas is as tense as I am. Even though I know these people are friends I can't help but think this is the perfect time for an ambush.
"And I would not allow it." Hircine appears. He has his large arms crossed over his muscled form. I step back at the sudden intrusion on our space.
"Thank you." I say to him.
"She's with Gabriel at the Temple of Mara. They wanted to test something." Brynjolf says. He takes the hammer from my hands and places it on the large table before us. My eyes scour it. All thirteen Artifacts are there including Nocturnal's key. The two rings rest on my hand and I know Eve keeps the Ebony Blade with her at all times. I was informed that one of the Princes did not have an Artifact, but that would not be a problem for us.
"How do we divvy it all up?" Aerin, now supplied with a sweetroll looks down at all the weapons.
"I'm still deliberating." Nocturnal states. She leans back in her chair, if she weren't dressed as she was, and if she were not who she is, I would assume her to be any normal thief in her natural habitat. "You all will get at least a few Artifacts. Aerin, I would like you to have Spellbreaker, since you are a mage, and the Wabbajack. I feel it will be most useful to you. Eve already has the Ebony Blade and she will keep it, as for what else I think she should keep Azura's Star, now the Black Star, the Ebony Mail, Mehrunes Razor, and possibly the Skeleton Key…"
She trails off and we all sit in anticipation to hear who gets the remaining Artifacts. But when she does not continue, I hear it in the silence.
A door creaks down the hallway, I am not sure where it leads and there is no way I would know but apparently no one should be there. Brynjolf and other thieves ready their weapons. I pull Grimesver and ready myself.
In the shadows of the hallway a scraping noise is approaching. When he emerges in the light, I have to stifle a gasp. A small Imperial man in jester clothes is bloodied and nearly dead, carrying a limp man who appears to be passed out. He is an old man and looks as if he's been in the sewers for years.
But this doesn't hold our attention long. Another form emerges, a terrifying form. The woman is as bloodied as the jester and just as rageful. Her golden eyes glance over us. She should not be so determined or confident in her injured state. She has scars running along her body and her once beautiful dress is torn nearly to pieces. But I now know why she can withstand the pain and injury just to face off with us. I don't need to see her crown or the necklace to know who this is.
The Night Mother is here.
Cicero's Journal Entry
22nd of Sun's Height, 4E 202
The sewers are rotting…Mother is determined. So many rats! The stench is nearly unbearable, but Mother said we must continue. This is the only way we will get to see Listener.