Chapter 9: Waking Up

Quick note: There is a * segment that contains very dark themes involving things I never like to talk about. If that is not your cup of tea, you may skip past it, as it has little impact with the story in general.

"So Errick has these- what'd he call them?- 'bomb-thingies' that almost burned down Goldenglow Estate fifty years ago?" Torygg asked. "How did he even make them?"

"Apparently, he used regular household ingredients, such as flour and salt. The salt is the reason why Isobel's smoke bomb exploded. Errick was actually employed to make those for Scarlai during his purge of the Thalmor from Skyrim immediately following Alduin's defeat. They helped out a bit in our adventures, too."

"Did everyone else bring something special to the team?"

"Well, Stryger did have something particularly useful besides his gift that I will talk about in a little bit. However, I think it's best that I continue with Errick real quick. Once he had finished the Goldenglow job, he was called over to the Bee and Bard the next morning to meet a person of interest, Maven Black-Briar."

Errick lowered Isobel down the secret entrance to the cistern where Brynjolf grabbed her legs, careful to avoid where the arrow had gone through. Isobel was making quite a few sounds as the gentlemen lowered her down. Once Brynjolf had an arm around her for support, Errick climbed down, closing the secret entrance to keep snooping guards away.

"Man, that was a successful, yet boring mission." Errick smiled, shaking off the rain. Every drop of water that had hit him immediately fell to the floor, causing a large puddle to form.

"You're cleaning that up." Brynjolf warned.

"Relax, I got this." Errick pulled a large mop from his jacket, getting a questionable look from both Brynjolf and Isobel. Within two seconds the puddle was gone and the mop walked to a bucket, draining itself before walking back to Errick to be placed back into his jacket.

"What in Oblivion was that? And how did you pull it out of your jacket?"

"That, my friend, was a mop I snagged from a Thalmor wizard in Summerset Isle that is enchanted to drain itself of water after mopping it up. My jacket is its own little realm to Oblivion, holding any and all items I steal or buy for until I need them. Speaking of which," Errick reached into his jacket, pulling out the letter from the safe. "I have what was in the safe. We'll go over it while we tend to Isobel's wound."

"I can handle it myself." Isobel argued. "I just need a tub and some bandages."

"Good. I had no plans of helping you treat that. I hate seeing blood. It makes me nauseous."

Isobel smirked as Errick put his arm around her. Thrynn had come walking in to see what the commotion was, and his face lit up with a multitude of emotions as the three of them walked further in.

"By the Gods, what happened?" He asked.

"Issy took an arrow to the leg, but all things considered she's fine."

"Says the guy whose bomb-thingy almost killed me." Isobel retorted.

"A what?" Thrynn asked.

"A smoke bomb that is flammable... Or inflammable... Forget which, doesn't matter. And you're the one who caught it on fire!"

"I had barely enough time to give my throw some accuracy! You're the one that told me it could damage myself if I didn't dispose of it, but you forgot to mention how it could explode and catch more beehives on fire like that!"

Brynjolf stopped. "Isobel, how many hives were on fire?"

"Before the bomb, three. After the bomb, five."

"Gods, I hope it doesn't do much damage to the structure."

Thrynn led them to a bathtub for Isobel to use to clean her wound. Brynjolf then told him to give the three of them privacy, which he reluctantly obliged. Errick kept his eyes on him with a sly smile, catching note of the man's obvious attachment to his new partner-in-crime. Thrynn didn't seem to notice as he exited.

"That guy was a bandit, wasn't he?" Errick asked.

"He was before he joined the guild." Brynjolf answered. "He seems more distraught about me now, though."

"I wonder why?" Errick smiled, looking at Isobel as she began to undress. Brynjolf began to look away as her jacket slipped off of her shoulders, but Errick grabbed his shoulder. "Brynjolf, you and I are both men of many talents. We do not cower in fear if our female comrade-by-trade strips nude in front of us to treat a wound in a bath tub. So relax, would you? You're acting as if you're a knight in shining armor, which nobody down here is."

Brynjolf frowned at the thief, but listened as Isobel maneuvered to take her pants off. Her left leg slid out easily, but her right leg posed a challenge as she tried not to agitate the arrow in her leg. Errick stepped up to help and pulled her pant leg off without hurting Isobel, grasping her left thigh sensually and getting slapped by Isobel. He laughed at that as he helped her in the tub.

"Okay, when I pull the arrow out, I'll need one of you guys to apply pressure with the bandages to stop the bleeding." Isobel commanded as she put a belt between her teeth.

Errick saw Brynjolf look at him, but he raised his hands. "I don't do blood. Blood leads to vampires. Vampires leads to me running like hell in the opposite direction."

Brynjolf sighed and went over to help Isobel. She pulled out the shaft with one hard tug, emitting a wail from the Breton woman. Errick had turned around so he wouldn't see the blood flow out of her leg. Brynjolf kept pressure on the wound while Isobel's hands began to glow with healing magic.

"We should've gotten you a healing potion, lass." Brynjolf spoke worriedly.

"It would've washed out of the bloodstream before it could help. I'm just glad I can cast some healing spells." She began to swirve the magic along the uncovered wound, healing it slowly until there was nothing but a minor scar left.

"Right, I almost forgot you could use restoration spells."

Errick cocked his head. "Is she done?"

"Almost." Isobel answered. "I'll let you know when you can turn around, you big baby." She pushed Brynjolf's hand aside and healed the other side of the wound, closing it up. "All done, Errick. Now tell us what's on that letter you found inside before the outside mission got botched."

Errick turned around. "First off, the outside mission wasn't botched. It just ended in a spectacular fashion. Second, I think you'll be interested to know..." Errick opened the letter and raised an eyebrow. "Aringoth sold Goldenglow. You know, I was hoping this would have a record of all of his money transits, but this is just ridiculous."

"What?" Brynjolf reached for the letter. "Let me see that."

Aringoth,

This document acknowledges the sale of Goldenglow Estate and all property, assets and materials contained within. Payment of the property has been made in full by Gajul-Lei as an agent on behalf of the buyer. All dealing with the Thieves Guild in Riften is to cease immediately. To deter any possible retribution for this act, you are to take immediate steps to protect our assets in any way you see fit. I think you'll find that the Thieves Guild is oft more bark than bite and will likely avoid Goldenglow Estate rather than thin their already dwindling numbers.

Good luck and may this be the start of a long and lucrative partnership.

"Aringoth sold Goldenglow?! What's that idiot thinking?!"

"This isn't good..." Isobel muttered.

"He has no idea the extent of Maven's fury when she's been cut out of a deal... but I'm sure he will. Hang on, there's this symbol at the bottom of the page." Brynjolf stared at this strange marking, a simple dagger with a black moon behind it. "Do you-" But he was cut off as he felt a rough stroke against his cheek and started violently. Looking up he saw Isobel's pixie-like features frowning at him, a swollen bee sting above her raised eyebrow.

"You have some blood on you." She said quietly, rubbing her wrinkled thumb over one particular spot on his left cheek. Brynjolf shifted uncomfortably, she was nearly naked and leaning towards him, giving him a fair view of her petite cleavage which he strained to look away from. And there was that small scent of cream that wafted off her skin, so light and evanescent he had to wonder if it was his imagination or not.

Errick looked at the scene playing out between the two thieves and kept silent for a few seconds. The way Brynjolf was reacting to the naked Breton wiping blood off of his face was hysterical, but it also gave Errick the slight impression the older man had a thing for the young woman. Errick could see why. He had many lovers before and Isobel was a rare jewel in some aspects. But she was no flawless diamond.

Not that either gentlemen seemed to mind.

"So, Maven's going to deliver a cow when she hears about this. But it looks to me, Brynjolf, that you have dealt with this kind of thing before. Probably from the Guild's past before you guys went to shit."

"How long have you been in the Guild, Brynjolf?" Isobel asked.

"Almost 26 years." Brynjolf answered.

"Good gods, you're ancient!" Isobel blurted, cupping her hands over her mouth. Brynjolf stared at her a few moments unamused, only to start laughing at her frightened face. Errick joined in, too. Sensing she was off the hook she continued her abuse. "Seriously, you were with the Guild 5 years before I was even born!"

"Shut it, lass. I may be old, but you're still a child."

"I am not a child!" Isobel clutched her chest in mock offense. "I am a strong woman, elegant and poise! With good posture and humble manners!"

"Please, half of the women I've slept with were strong women with good posture and humble manners." Errick laughed. "And when they woke up the next morning, they acted like none of those things when they found all of their jewelry missing!"

Brynjolf laughed. "I've had a few of those moments in my career."

"I betcha you didn't have a moment where you slept with a woman who only preferred bedding women and turned her into a dick-lover after one night."

Isobel chimed in. "No, but I have broken a girl's heart before by dressing up as a man and surprising her when she took my pants off."

"Ouch." Errick sighed. "I feel bad for her now."

Brynjolf stopped laughing and cleared his throat. "I think I should give this information to Mercer. You two should take the rest of the night to yourselves. And lass, please don't sneak out on us again. You almost got caught in Windhelm, and I don't need to report to Gray Fox about his sister dying on us."

"Wait," Errick spoke. "Isobel is the sister of the Gray Fox?"

Isobel bowed. "The one and only."

"Well, that explains why you want to out-thief me. Gray Fox and I have actually shared a few pints in Anvil. He mentioned his identity had a baby sister in the guild, and here she is, sitting in a bathtub."

"He never mentioned meeting with you, though."

"We had some negotiations that the Guild was unaware of. I don't screw with your Guild's operations, and they didn't have to turn me in to the Guard. I had an inconspicuous hideout in Anvil that I didn't want word getting out. I saw to it a friend took care of it while I was away. He officially owns it currently since I traveled to Skyrim. Benirus Manor, I think it was called."

Brynjolf shook his head and walked away, gaining a curious look from Isobel that he didn't catch. Errick got into Isobel's eye view, and her eyes glared at the master thief.

"Keep dreaming about sleeping with the Guild's second in command all you want, minx." Errick smiled. "I doubt anything's going to happen between you two for a long time."

Isobel slapped him, but the man only laughed.

"I've had worse slaps from Nordic men. But seriously, staring at him won't help your situation."

"You don't know a thing about Brynjolf and I."

"Oh, I know that the two of you have something there. But I also know Brynjolf hurt you some time ago, and that you want to spite him, which is your major reason for wanting to come along with me. You're stubborn, Isobel. But every thief is stubborn."

Isobel raised her eyebrows. "How do you know so much about me?"

"It's all about sizing up your mark, lass." Errick muttered in a Brynjolf impression, gaining a chuckle from his newfound partner-in-crime. "I can read people's body language and facial expressions. I can also determine an enemy's point-of-attack and more. How do you think I stopped that son-of-a-bitch Maul when his intent would have been to hurt you for whatever the hell it is you did to him?"

"I wouldn't have gotten hurt. He just wanted my body, which I sort of promised him. But I've been avoiding him for the past few weeks."

"And I just so happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Oh, well. I got gold from him and I kicked his ass. He'll hopefully think twice before coming after you again next time."

"Yeah, I hope we don't see him again for a good while." Isobel agreed. Errick hande her a towel and she dried herself off before he handed her a fresh tunic to wear.

"I can get that muddy armor cleaned and dried for you."

"It might just be easier to get a spare from Tonilia."

"I've got some things that I use to clean my suit whenever it gets covered by mud or shit. I'll have it cleaned and dried for you by tomorrow morning. Get some rest. I'll slump into a bed in an hour, okay?"

"Fine. Be a gentleman to me all you want, but it's not really going to help you get on my good side." Isobel joked, adding a seductive glare into the mix.

"I'm sure I know exactly what you mean by that." Errick smiled slyly, gazing into her blue eyes as she began to turn and walk away. When her back was turned Errick pulled out his supply box from his jacket and pulled out his special suit cleaner. He dumped some of it into the cold, bloody water and watched as the red pool turned into a sky blue. Her armor was thrown in and Errick sunk it down with a metal pole so that it could completely clean the whole suit. When forty-five minutes had passed, the suit had absorbed all of the tub's water, but it was cleaner than when it was first made.

Errick left her suit near an open fire and let it dry as he chose a bed and fell asleep, ignoring the smells of the cistern as fatigue overtook him.

Immediately following the first sunlight across Windhelm, Scarlai walked through the gates with three bear pelts on his back. He also had the faint smell of blood on him, but no one would suspect it was human blood. During his travels back from Riften, Scarlai had carved his way through a bunch of bandits. The moon had actually been bright, and his dark gift had consumed the blood of the foes that attempted to stop him. The one problem with his strong will is that he wants to die but he doesn't at the same time.

He was one of those warriors who wanted an honorable death.

"Scarlai." A Stormcloak soldier spoke as he approached the Dunmer. "I see you went out hunting again. Never seen those blades before, though."

"They were a gift from a friend. I rarely ever use them. The area I went hunting, however, was reported to have bandits around. I even slayed a score of them, so hopefully your people have a bit more luck along the road."

"Thank you. I know my men give your race a tough time, but you are all right in my book. In fact, we could use someone like you in this war."

Scarlai sighed. "Look, Tor, I know that your people fight for what's right for Skyrim, and I agree that the Empire is now lost. But some of your men, including Ulfric himself, show much mistrust towards my people. Yes, some of us act superior around you, but you do that here, too. I need confirmation from your men that you would treat me as an equal like you have. You're a prime example of why I admire you Nords for your warrior prowess. But out of a few, you're one of compassion and not racism, and that's a rare trait in either of our races."

Tor was quiet for a bit, but he then nodded his head. "Okay. I will look for a few who would fight alongside you regardless of your race. Afterwards, if you are convinced, I will throw in a recommendation for you to Ulfric. He can be reasonable at times, but right now his main concern is freeing Skyrim. Afterwards, however, he might help restore the Grey Quarter a bit for your people."

"I can only hope. I will await for you to find those willing to allow one of my kind within your ranks and I will hopefully have a full decision for you by then."

"Very well, friend. May Talos guide you."

Scarlai rested his fist on his chest and bowed. "May Talos guide you as well, warrior."

Tor rested a hand on Scarlai's shoulder and held it there for a moment. When he released him, the Nord departed through the gates. Tor was a good man and Scarlai was glad to have met him. It made his choice to hide in Skyrim seem like the right one. But one day, his friendship just might end up tested, and Scarlai feared he would kill Tor in the most painful way imaginable.

He couldn't believe it would come to that.

Scarlai found himself at Aventus Aretino's house and he opened the door, keeping the noise to a minimum so he wouldn't attract any unwanted attention. When the door was closed, he set his furs down on the floor so he could approach the child with the same mysterious look he possessed before. This time, though, he had his hood on. Aventus was already wide awake snacking on bread at the table. His face lit up when he saw the Dunmer approach him. Even though he was now far more menacing in his armor with his black blades on his sides, the boy was not afraid.

"Is it over? Is Grelod the Kind dead?"

"Grelod is no more, and her death has been executed to look like an accident. Her rib cage had been cracked, likely from a fall onto her dresser. She will not be missed."

"Yes! Thank you so much." He grabbed a large silver tray from the table. "Here, this is a family heirloom. It should fetch you a fine price."

Scarlai took it from the kid's hands. "Thank you. Our business is concluded, so we must go our separate ways." He departed for the door before he heard Aventus speak again.

"When I grow up, I wanna be an assassin just like you."

Scarlai stopped. "You still have to grow up, first. So do that, and if you actually still want to be an assassin then, maybe we'll find you before you find us." He joked as he departed through the door.

If only he knew how real his words were going to be.

*Early in the morning, a Dunmer woman in black robes walked down the road from the tower Zacharius had cleared out the night before. Her hair was black as night and her eyes redder than the finest rainments worn by nobles. Her features were of a young sort, and the bandit leader that had survived the assault on the tower base saw it. She would be a perfect target for the morning.

The leader stepped out of the trees, not scaring the Dunmer as she stopped to look at the dripping wet Nord.

"Well, look at what we have here." The Nord spoke menacingly, hoping to scare the woman into submission. "Such a beautiful woman should not walk the roads of Skyrim alone. Especially one who looks so defenseless."

"I am not defenseless, Nord." She spoke harshly. "I know how to take care of myself."

"But you have no dagger strapped to your belt, no guard to keep you company, and no other belongings on you besides that dirty black robe. Perhaps you need to wash it. I could help you, if you want."

"My robes are fine. And I do not need help from some loathsome Nord who only has one thing on his mind."

The Nord felt anger build up within him, but he was unsure if it was because of her arrogance or her goading. "Perhaps you need to be reminded of the dangers of this land, elf."

"There is no danger that frightens me, not even a common bandit like yourself, Nord."

That seemed to set him off. He slapped the woman to put her back in her place, but it only made her laugh an evil cackle. The bandit only got more frustrated, and this time he punched her. But even as blood dripped from the corner of her lip, she still laughed at the man. He hated her laugh; it sent waves of anger through him and blood to his groin.

He grabbed her and threw her into a tree, pulling out a dagger as he pushed her harder into the tree. She was still laughing at him as he brought the dagger up to her face. He slit her cheek and instead of a laugh or cry, he received a moan from her lips.

"Oh, you like that, don't you, you little bitch?" The bandit whispered into her ear. He brought his dagger and slashed her again, getting another moan from her. His third slash tore through her robe, and the bandit ripped it off of her with his hands. "I'm going to enjoy this."

The Dunmer he had forced onto the tree seemed as eager as he was as he pulled the bottoms of his fur armor down and forced himself into her core. He pounded into her furiously as she squeezed him within herself. The bandit was urged on in anger because none of his victims had ever enjoyed his actions, and he wanted to make her scream in pain. He pulled her hair and pounded into her even harder, but again, she did not scream in pain. It was as if she enjoyed pain. And soon enough, she had actually climaxed on him before he could finish himself.

Then he felt his flesh burning.

He screamed in pain as he pulled out, seeing his flesh burned like a corpse lit up by a mage. The bandit fell on his ass as the Dunmer went back to laughing. It was then that the bandit leader realized that he chose the wrong target. The woman in front of him began to change form, and armor began to build around her. It looked like daedric armor but it revealed more of her skin, and her cuts and bruises healed almost immediately. When she faced him again, she had lost most of her Dunmer traits and looked more daedric.

"Oh, but you did not understand why I laughed. I have flipped nerves in the presence of mortals. Pain is pleasure, pleasure is pain. But you fell for my trap like the dimwit you are."

"What in Oblivion are you?!" He cried.

"I am that which mortals strive to be. Like yourself, believing that you can take anyone you want and please only your needs. Speaking of which..." The strange daedric creature hovered above his burnt member, still hard from his attempt to rape her. "We can't leave you without release."

The bandit watched as she brought her mouth upon his charred flesh. She began to place him into her mouth and bob her head up and down. Normally this man would enjoy it when one of his women members offered, but the burnt flesh made this act much more painful as she made her movements faster. However, he did feel his release build up, and soon enough he shot into her mouth. He figured she would swallow his seed, but instead she seemed to swish it in her mouth before she forced his jaw wide open. He watched in horror as her saliva and his seed drooled out of her mouth as black as her skin into his mouth.

Then he screamed as his insides burned.

Jornada stood up and smiled as another fool died to her actions. His body literally caught on fire as he continued to scream, and Jornada slipped on her helmet. Her sword and shield appeared in her hands just as his screams stopped. Her magic had done its work, and there was nothing left but a charred corpse. Some would believe a dragon attacked and killed a man along the road, and by then she would be gone.

"You really are sadistic, Jornada." A voice behind her spoke, forcing her to pull her sword out. But the person she swung her sword at was nothing more than an illusion. The Stranger stood before her, but not in the Breton body he fought in last time. The same armor was wrapped around his body, but he was not in the corporeal form that she fought against within the tomb.

"It was your fault I'm like this way. When you destroyed me, I became a monster. And now, I can't have an actual lover because anybody who gives me a caressing touch ends up giving me pain, like a dagger across my face, and you are the only one whose touch is actually normal. You hurt me with your blade, and yet your touch doesn't hurt me unless you are attempting to choke the life out of me as you did before. Not like these mortals that live in the Infitium, not knowing that there are places greater than their own; worlds and species and technologies far more advanced than what they have. You and I, we are connected by that bond that had formed when you killed me yet spared the child that formed in my womb. Now I am left as a monster because of you."

The Stranger looked down, remembering the four-hundred and twenty-third battle when he had defeated her at her possible strongest only because of Ariel's sacrifice. He had revealed to her that the woman she had been before had been pregnant with a girl that he spared only because of the heartache his master had felt in his own reality. That single action was what had truly turned Jornada from a harmless memory of a teenage girl into a demon that he swore to destroy. However, a lot of things about Jornada became clear after every battle, and this one was meant to be no different. Her humanity may sometimes show and her nerves might act differently around other people, but his mission still stood.

"If I could truly go back and fix my mistake, I would. But you are stuck as a demon, and I cannot allow you to roam free. For now, however, I will not hunt you only because I feel obligated to stay for the sake of appeasing a man who wished to reward me. Besides, I need a new greatsword after you broke mine."

"You know the daedric lords will try to stop you."

"Some will seek to aid you, but there are those daedra who believe I am just enough to side with. Just because you have aid from Mehrunes Dagon and Molag Bol does not mean that you will emerge victorious."

"So you think that just because Azura and Meredia are eager to help a being that could further their own agenda that they could possibly offer something in return to help you?"

"Every being has their use. I would not ask the nine divines to aid me in my quest to purge you again from their realm, but a few of the daedra would help me just as they would help you."

"Then when that day comes, I hope you have chosen wisely, because I will have chosen the right people to help me crush you."

"Until that day comes, you will have plenty of time to think on why you truly came back to Tamriel." The Stranger's ghostly form disappeared, leaving the demoness to continue her venture. She had to find Mehrunes Dagon's shrine quickly, in order to get in contact with the daedric prince again.*

Akira was opening her eyes slowly. She felt like her head had been smashed in by a giant's club. Her hand went up to her forehead, and that's when she heard someone shift in a chair. Akira's eyes shot open to see Farkas's hand approaching her.

"Easy, Shield-Sister." He spoke. "You passed out after you used magic against a draugr death lord."

"What?" Akira asked weakly. She then saw a cup being brought to her face.

"Here's some water. Drink up, slowly."

Akira did as commanded and let Farkas pour the cool liquid down her throat. As Farkas did this, he watched how her eyes closed as she drank. Her neck was breath-taking from his sight and he was glad his wolf had been dormant at this moment. Usually whenever he saw the other women in the group the wolf would ask him to try to matre with one of them, which Farkas initially refused, wishing to respect his Shield-Sisters. But Akira looked so... stunning. He had to fight his own urge to bed her rather than his wolf's urge.

The cup accidentally dropped from her face, knocking both warriors back to reality.

"Sorry." Farkas apologized. "I was distracted." Nice excuse, pup. He heard his father's voice in his head speak. That won't seem suspicious.

Akira looked at Farkas nervously. She knew what he meant by that. Truth be told, she admired Farkas, but she didn't like looking beautiful to anyone.

It caused her a lot of pain last time someone called her beautiful.

"It's okay, Farkas." She assured. "But what was this about magic you said?"

"You literally caught a draugr on fire. With your voice." Farkas sounded surprised by the way he told her. Akira herself was caught by surprise herself. Especially since she was told by her parents-

"I can't cast magic, Farkas." She admitted.

"What do you mean? Every Breton can cast magic."

"I can't. I was tested around the time I was supposed to start learning magic. I had a defect that made my connection to magic weak, if not non-existent. How could I cast fire from my mouth if I can't cast it with my own hands?"

"I don't have an answer for that. Sorry. Perhaps Kodlak can help you shed light on the subject. Speaking of which, he's waiting for us outside with the rest of the Companions." Farkas got up from his chair and held out his hand, which Akira took. She realized she was still in her armor, but her battleaxe and dagger were on the table near the door. Akira walked over and sheathed the dagger, turning to face Farkas before grabbing her axe.

"How did I get back here?"

"I carried you out of Dustman's Cairn. Your entire body felt like it was on fire. The rain lasted all night but even as your horse and I carried you back to Whiterun you were dryer than the sands of Hammerfell. Even the two Alik'r warriors that were at the gate noticed that. You were burning, as if a fire was lit in your very soul."

A Breton with a fire in her soul. Zacharius's words echoed in her head. Could this mean she was the one he spoke of? She had to be after performing magic when it was nearly impossible for her to perform it. And Farkas said she had been on fire as he carried her. Maybe not literally, but like a high fever. That couldn't be mere coincidence.

"Sounds like the words of a man I met recently. A Breton with a fire in her soul. Just the way he said it." Akira slid the axe into its sheath on her back. "Thank you, Farkas. You are very kind."

"Anytime, Shield-Sister."

"Please, just call me Akira."

Farkas smiled and rolled his shoulders. "All right, Akira. Let's head outside. Maybe after the celebration, Kodlak can help you make sense of your new magic."

Akira smiled and let the man lead her to the gathering.

Back in Riften, Errick had been dreaming in his bed about sleeping with beautiful women and taking all of their jewelry the moment they fell asleep... That is until he realized someone was trying to take off his boot.

"Get your thieving hands off my boot, Isobel." Errick spoke groggily.

"Aww, but it's got shiny gold on it." Isobel whined playfully. "I want them."

"They're three sizes too big for you. Now let go before I put you over my shoulder again and throw you into the water."

Isobel let go, making a pouty face. It was only when Errick's eyes were wide awake that he noticed she had grease and broth still dripping off of her face. He guessed she probably had a food fight with someone.

"That's your make-up for the day?" He asked jokingly.

"No, I just didn't want to clean up until after you saw me. Brynjolf said we both need to visit Maven at the Bee and Bard. Apparently, she wants to talk to us about the mission at Goldenglow."

"Okay, give me a second to get up. Glad to see you found your suit back in order."

"Yeah, whatever you did worked. It even feels softer now."

"That's the best part. It makes the suit even more comfortable." He pulled a cloth out of his pocket as he stood up. "Clean up your face, carnivore. You don't want to look bad meeting Maven Black-Briar in the flesh."

While the two thieves prepared to meet with their major backer, Brelyna was waking up in the College of Winterhold on a bed she immediately realized wasn't hers. She looked around to see that she was in Stryger's dorm room. Stryger himself was sitting in a chair looking at a map. The green aura that surrounded him was gone.

He looked up to see the Dunmer woman looking at him.

"Hey, Brelyna. You fell asleep in my chair so I just let you stay on my bed for the night."

She rolled until she was sitting on the bed. "Thanks, I guess. Nice to see the spell wore off. I was afraid you'd be green forever."

"Thank the eight I'm not, though. Wanna practice the rest of your spells now?"

"Sure." Brelyna stepped out of the room and waited for Stryger to return to where he stood last night. "All right, stay still." She cast her spell right at the Altmer.

Suddenly, Stryger was shorter than Brelyna and his vision was black and white.

"Oh, no! That's not right at all. I can fix it, though." Brelyna panicked.

Stryger barked.

She cast another spell only to turn him into a cow.

"No! This is all wrong! Let me try again."

Stryger mooed before he was turned into a horse.

"Come on! One more time."

Stryger neighed and watched as she cast the last spell. Suddenly he found himself on all fours looking at Brelyna. He stood up with an embarrassing look on his face.

"Let's, uh, never speak of this again, shall we?" He asked, looking around to make sure none of the other students were around.

"Yeah, probably for the best. Thanks for at least trying to help me."

"No problem." He brought his face closer to Brelyna's. "Want to go on an adventure?"

"Uh, why do you ask?"

"I just mean, I've got a task I need accomplishing that connects to our business in Saarthal, and I thought you might want to see the new spell I was working on. It's a teleportation spell that takes you to any location on a map."

"That doesn't sound possible."

"Oh, but it is. I've successfully tested it. The only problem is the landing."

"What's wrong with the landing?"

"Come with me and you'll see it for yourself."

Brelyna smirked. "Is this your idea of taking a girl on a date?"

"Leading you to a bunch of rogue mages to get a book is your idea of a date?"

"Depends on the type of guy I'd be with."

Stryger smiled. "So?"

Brelyna shrugged. "Sure. Just don't get me killed, oh-so-superior elf."

"Ouch." Stryger joked. "Even I wouldn't tease the Thalmor with that." He led her outside so he could transport himself and Brelyna to Fellglow Keep. He found it's location on the map before Brelyna woke up so he could try to visually imagine where to go. When he could picture it in his head, he summoned a green aura around his hands.

"So how does this spell work?" Brelyna asked.

"Grab hold of me." Stryger commanded. Brelyna looked confused, but she grabbed his wrist. He charged up the spell and released it, sending the two elves skyrocketing into the air. Brelyna was screaming at the speed they were going at, but now Stryger was holding onto her tight enough so that they wouldn't separate. In fact, her entire front was pressed to his, and Brelyna could feel hard muscle underneath his robes.

After a minute they seemed to be less flying and more falling.

"Geronimo!" Stryger yelled excitingly. Brelyna got a glance to see they were approaching grass, and she was afraid the bulkier elf would crush her with their landing. However, Stryger flipped them around so that his back scraped along the ground instead of Brelyna's. He wasn't even hurt. In fact, he was laughing.

"What?" Brelyna asked.

"You seriously thought we were gonna die, didn't you?"

"I did not. I was just nervous, that's all."

"I know. Now, we should probably get moving. There's no telling if the mages here are nice or-"

A fireball landed near the two mages, causing Brelyna to jump off Stryger.

"Naughty." He finished in a flat tone. "Oh, shit."

Errick and Isobel walked into the Bee and Bard following his wake-up call in the cistern. He looked around to see that only a few people were in the room, mainly eating breakfast at the tables. Errick's stomach growled before he remembered he hadn't eaten yet.

"Think we could get a quick drink before talking to Maven?" He asked.

"I don't think so." Isobel scoffed, pulling at his arm to bring him upstairs.

"But- the mead! Oh, fine! But if she doesn't have anything interesting to say, you owe me a drink." Errick pulled his arm away and followed Isobel upstairs. As they approached, they saw a woman with black hair in her mid-fifties drinking some mead while sitting in a chair. Maul stood over her as a guard, but he flinched at the first sight of Errick. The master thief smiled at this.

"So, this is the famed Errick Entius. I've heard a lot about you. Maul had complaints about your scruffle last night."

"Sorry about the broken nose, old chap. No hard feelings." Errick spoke towards Maul, who grumbled in response. "And you're Maven, the most powerful woman in Riften. Why the hell do you want me?" He asked as he sat down and grabbed a bottle of mead.

"I heard about your job at Goldenglow last night. Well done. However, your partner's role in burning down half of the beehives was most... displeasing."

"If only she followed instructions. I told her exactly what to do and she didn't listen. She's not much of a thinker, you know."

Isobel glared at him from behind.

"Right. Anyways, I need your help with another contract at Honningbrew Meadery. A competitor is trying to sell his own product and he's made it big in the industry so quickly. You need to put a halt to his operations the best way you know how."

"That'll be easy. But can you pay my price? That is the question. If not, I could always give you the senior discount." He grinned as he leaned back in his chair, sipping on his drink.

Maven glared at him. "Do you think you can negotiate prices with me? Do you forget that I could have Mercer cut you off from the Guild or have the Dark Brotherhood put a knife in your back?"

"Yes, but if you did that, you'd lose your only chance to have someone with my skills on your side. That doesn't seem like a smart business move, and I thought you were all business. And this is not a negotiation, Maven. You can afford the kind of services I provide and the bill that comes along with them. So stop trying to scare me into submission. I've stopped even the most controlling of lovers from thinking they can command me. Two of them were actually your age." His smirk was wide and looked sadistic, as if he was tempting her to strike him down.

Maul waited for Maven to command him to throw the thief to the guard, but Maven instead laughed.

"I like this thief! He knows business." She sighed and looked at Errick. "Very well, Errick. You shall have the payment you require so long as the task is done."

Errick smiled and stood up, shaking the woman's hand. "Very well, Maven. I shall return when the job is complete." He walked towards the stairs and pushed Isobel away, knowing that she still stared at Maul from his attempt to take her last night. When they got down the stairs, Isobel smacked Errick's arm.

"Ow. What was that for? And why did you hit me in the arm?"

"What the hell were you thinking?! You could've gotten us both thrown in jail with that stunt you pulled!"

"But I didn't. Maven respects power. Show her you have power and she'll respect you. You just need to follow orders, like not throwing it near fire." Errick spoke that last phrase in a serious tone, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, again I call bullshit on that one. I didn't have time to direct my shot."

"Direct it where? The three beehives you needed to light on fire?"

Isobel growled but Errick only laughed.

"You are relentless."

"That's one thing we have in common. Come on. We need to head to Whiterun, but first." Errick sits at the bar and talked to the bartender. "Could I get some eggs, strips of bacon, and two bottles of mead?" He then looked at Isobel. "Do you want anything, minx?"

Isobel shrugged. "I could use some tea, I guess." She sat down and waited with Errick for their breakfast before they headed out.

"So, Stryger made a teleportation spell and Errick actually earned Maven Black-Briar's respect?"

"Yes. Stryger's teleportation spell was useful in the final battle, but I'll get to that in the end. Errick was a man of many talents, but he can tell you that himself later."

"What about Akira and her burning soul?" Ronan asked. "And this warrior named For?"

"Akira's soul was full of light, as well as a darkness that she never let consume her. As for Tor, his role in the story was minor, but it is not a vital role for a long time. What is vital, however, is when Lydia and I first made it to Ivarstead."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello. Sorry this took a while to come out but my Mass Effect story needed more priority than this. It is the bigger project that I've been working on, so don't feel like you've been left out. I did warn you guys that this story would not have a set schedule when I first started this.

Now for those that stomached the star segment, that was to explain that the character herself had a problem with her nerves. Pain and pleasure are switched around for her, which adds to her character. You'll find out more about her later in the story.

As for Tor, like he said his role is minor, but it becomes more vital for my plans in Dawnguard, which is the second story arch.

Shoutouts to SpiritofJazz, TheGreatJabberyJamie, MasterAssassinScrolls, and Admiral Anderson.

P.S. Errick Entius's creator, MassFieldBlood, wants to know who his fans are. Send him a PM or else he's threatened to kill me.