Chapter 19: Thieves
"So the next morning you went into Ustengrav, right?" Torygg asked.
"Exactly. Lydia and I made our way to Ustengrav to obtain the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, however there was a complication."
"What complication?"
"In due time, Torygg. But let's just say that day was a day for thieves."
Isobel bolted upright with a gasp, wiping her face with her sleeve feverously and making sure the wetness was due to her cold sweat and salty tears. It happened again. Isobel had another nightmare of one of her friends dying. It started off as her memory of her 'first time'. She had been trying to make the khajiit named R'vanni honor a drunken promise, but then the memory became a nightmare as a member of the Penitus Oculatus slit his throat in front of her. She relaxed and regained her breathing when she realized she was in Skyrim, in a cave with...
'Oh gods.' Isobel looked next to her to see Brynjolf curled up against the opposite wall. She couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, he looked ridiculous so squished against the stone, making a good ten inches of space between them. No wonder she felt as cold as death, the Bedroom Bandit was apparently afraid of girl cooties.
She shivered in the morning air, her perspiration making it feel even more chilly, and rolled onto her stomach, looking out into the brightly-lit woods and trying to get a read on the time. Dawn was definitely over, but she couldn't get a good look at the sun for the canopies were too thick. She turned her gaze back over to the hooded man beside her, and sat up to examine the Nord more fully.
Lady Luck seemed to favour Isobel that morning, for Brynjolf was out cold and nothing brought Isobel more enjoyment and satisfaction than waking up a deep sleeper. She opened her mouth to scream, but she somehow couldn't get any sound out. It seemed too cruel to scare him.
Instead she tenderly pulled back his hood and brushed the hair from his face, her touch not causing the slightest stir, until she had enough skin exposed that would grant a good sting when slapped. But the more of Brynjolf's handsome face she uncovered the more she found herself unable to hit him, she became too enthralled by his strong, stubbled jaw, became too distracted watching his adam's apple move when he swallowed. She found her attention caught by the whisper of crow's feet that festered by his eyes.
She was suddenly thrown back to another time when she was in this very position, leaning over him as he lay drunk and asleep behind a Statue of Talos, just before her escapade to Windhelm.
'Gods...that seems so long ago...' She thought as she retreated her hand and placed it in her pocket, making sure the amethyst was still with her.
Brynjolf was so charming and sheepish when he was with Ysolda, and so secretive and tight-lipped around her. How could someone be such a dog one minute and be a complex puzzle the next? She knew he was avoiding her last night when she asked how he became involved in the Guild, and she saw how he got emotional when he mentioned his previous Guild Master.
A songbird brought Isobel's attention back outside, wanting to cripple whatever being dared try to awake her companion. She thought hunting it down for breakfast might be a better solution, Brynjolf had provided for her the night before so it only made sense that she would be in charge of the morning meal.
She crawled out of the crevice and stood up, warming her hands with her breath as she scanned the evergreen branches. She couldn't see anything, that was until a movement faraway down south the cobblestone road grabbed her attention. She took as few steps forward and squinted, it was a horse, but she couldn't make out the rider.
A horse...
Isobel looked at Brynjolf, still slumbering in the crevice. His legs had been so tight when she healed him, if she could get a horse that meant they'd be back in Riften in half the time without causing him discomfort.
Isobel looked back at the approaching rider, still unable to make out their features, then back to Brynjolf. It would be easier if he was awake, horse theft with two people was an amateur gig and a guaranteed success, but... how brilliant would it be for him to wake up with a horse all ready to go? The image was perfect, giving him the Amulet of Talos was more than satisfying...to pull another impressive heist would only bring her more pride.
Her mind was already made up, with one quick glance to make sure Brynjolf was still sleeping she silently trotted down the rocky crags. As she neared the road she made her step even more light and crouched lower down, she needed a good look of the rider and their equipment before making any brash decisions...well, at least not any more.
Creeping in some shaded bushes right next to the road, Isobel peered through the shadows. About a hundred feet down was a young woman around Isobel's age. Her auburn-brown hair was tied back loosely and she was wearing the strangest armor with some bear-like carvings on the silver metal that covered her body.
Isobel could tell she was not a malicious person, the way she held herself was relaxed and non-threatening but she definitely had an air of honour and righteousness. She was a person who could slice someone in half or shake your hand and be a loyal ally, Isobel had dealt with these types of people enough to recognize them instantly. Slowly, Isobel crawled out from the brush and laid down, sprawling out just enough to remain inconspicuous but impossible to miss.
Akira was enjoying the smells of the brisk morning as she rode along the path. There was another mission she needed to complete and she wanted to make it there as fast as possible. Aela had tasked her with taking out another major player near Ivarstead and she wanted the mission finished quickly. Her stomach growled intently for a moment. Akira regretted skipping on breakfast but she felt it was necessary in order to leave as early as possible. As for Athala, she had not made any attempt to contact her after the shout that awoke her from the dream.
All of a sudden, Akira caught sight of a body near the road.
"Woah, there." Akira commanded Daisy to stop, hopping over her to check on the body. Akira could see it was a woman; a Breton just like her. She had shorter and messier hair, and was dressed in a strange leather armor she had not come in contact with. But there was no evidence of any damage caused to the poor woman, either meaning her injuries were not easily noticed or that this was a trap. Akira decided to take her chance, however, and knelt beside the woman.
Isobel felt the rider approach, felt her body lean over her.
"Oh sweet Kynareth...Miss? Miss, are you alright?" She shook Isobel's shoulder while her other hand checked for any wounds. "Miss?"
Isobel recalled the time Cogan gave her a box filled with live rats that exploded from some firesalt mixture he fed them and slapped the woman hard in the face... however, she didn't take off running. Isobel quickly opened her eyes and saw an amulet of Kynareth dangling in front of her nose, this meant the woman was a traveller, she knew most travelers had praised the goddess during long journeys across Cyrodiil. The second thing Isobel noticed was the Breton woman holding her cheek...a Breton...
'Shit!' Isobel cursed. Bretons were more resistant to magic, especially stronger ones, and Isobel had underestimated her and didn't think of a more powerful spell. 'I need to think of something scarier.'
Akira was caught off guard when the Breton woman had slapped her, but the presence of magic within the slap told her everything she needed to know about what was going on. This woman wasn't hurt. She was trying to ambush her. Her rage came forward, demanding that she taught this would-be thief a lesson. Akira grabbed the woman by the collar and pulled her up to her face.
"Who-" Akira started but Isobel had already unsheathed her dagger and sliced her assaulter's hand, making her let go instantly with a yelp as Isobel grabbed her by her hair.
"Okay, Lady Valiant, you have two choices." Isobel threatened as she pulled the Breton into a chokehold and pressed her dagger to her throat. She was just winging-it now, she had no idea what she was doing. "One, you give me the horse and everything on it or two, I rip open your jugulars and-" She was cut off as Akira flipped her over her shoulder and onto the hard road.
Isobel didn't grant herself time to try and breathe in the air that was knocked out of her, she had already brought up both her feet in attempt to pry the warrior's grip on her armed hand. They struggled there for a bit, Akira trying to grip onto Isobel's wrist while reaching for something on her back as Isobel contorted and squirmed in retaliation, shoving her free-hand and feet into the Breton's face. Finally, with a well placed kick to the woman's nose, she let go with a gasp as Isobel sprang up on her feet.
Isobel too was caught off guard as something bashed her own nose, and she could instantly feel the blood splash over her lips and chin as she crashed to the ground. Still gripping onto her dagger, she made to get back up yet again before she felt a cool blade on the side of her neck and halted.
The Breton warrior had drawn a large steel battleaxe, Isobel could see the bloody base of the handle that had crushed her nose as she spit out some of the red-liquid. A couple drops landed on the battleaxe's steel, and Isobel could see the woman's scowl grow deeper. However, the two bloody-nosed Breton women simply stared at each other for a few beats.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't decapitate you right now." Akira growled as she pressed the axe slightly further on Isobel's flesh. Isobel felt her bottom lip quiver and slowly she raised her hands, her breathing growing more ragged as her eyes welled up.
"Please...don't kill me." Isobel pleaded as her eyes teared up. "Please..." She could tell the warrior was slightly taken aback.
"Not so gutsy when you're at the edge of a blade, aren't you thief?" She spoke deeply. "Cowardice is another vice I should kill you for."
"Please, no!" Isobel cried, adding a few sobs. "Please, I know I'm in the wrong here, I shouldn't have done anything... I'm just scared shitless for my baby!"
"Your baby?" Akira arched a brow. "And where is this "baby" now?" Isobel slowly lowered one of her hands and placed it on her abdomen. "...You're with child?" Isobel answered with a slow nod, making sure to keep her tears running. "And the father?"
"He's...he's gone." Isobel sniffled.
"And you're out here by yourself? Where are you going?"
"My father is at a camp we made up there." Isobel nodded her head towards the thick forest and the cliffs behind them. "We were on our way to Riften. Father knows the Priest of Mara there, and he's agreed to give us shelter at the temple until the baby arrives." Isobel could see the warrior thinking fiercely as some blood dribbled down her chin.
Akira considered the possibilities. For all she knew this Breton was lying to get out of losing her head. But if she was telling the truth then Akira's actions could have likely put the baby's life in danger. It was difficult to decide, even as Akira stared into her victim's eyes. The tears that flowed looked genuine, but a thief can play a victim every time when they were a woman. Ultimately, however, she decided she needed proof before killing her.
Isobel could feel the cold steel removed from her neck, and before she could react, the woman pulled her up by her collar. Despite possessing the same build as Isobel, the Breton woman was indeed strong, and blood from the cut Isobel had given the woman's hand to began to pour onto her Guild armour.
"Take me to your father. But if you try anything, anything, I'll give you plenty more things to use for that Fear spell you failed to cast on me." Isobel's collar was released and Akira placed her battleaxe onto her back, securing it into her sheath. Isobel straightened out her clothes and watched as Akira pulled a rag out of the bag saddled onto her horse and began to wipe her face.
"So Lady Valiant, got a real name?" The woman stopped, having wiped the blood off of her face.
"Akira Vanius of the Companions." The woman was a Companion, no wonder she was able to swing around a battleaxe despite her size. "I assume you have a name as well?" Isobel couldn't help but cross her arms begrudgingly, not wanting to give out her real name but knowing Brynjolf would give it away if they were meeting him.
'Damn. He's going to be so pissed...'
"Isobel."
"Isobel." Akira nodded and tossed the rag to the thief, who wiped the blood and tears off of her face while Akira wrapped her hand in another rag to stop the bleeding. "This was a new set of armor, you know. I killed its last owner by merely head-butting her to death. Now you've ruined the leather of the glove, Farkas is going to flip bears when he finds out."
"Who's Farkas?" Isobel asked, shoving the rag up her nostrils in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
"He's a fellow Companion. He's not too smart, but he is a gentleman, which is more than I can say for most of the Nords in Skyrim."
"Tell me about it."
It was the distant sound of a twig snapping that started to pull Brynjolf out of unconsciousness, the grinding of footsteps on gravel that made his eyes open.
The first thing noticed was that Isobel was gone, the space beside him was empty, and immediately he felt a wave of panic. The experience with the strange roar the previous night had made him uneasy enough, and with his understudy missing his mind already started to fill to brim with images of Isobel being swept away by reptilian claws.
"Da!"
Now he knew he had to be dreaming...and a bloody messed up one at that if Isobel's voice was calling him da...
"Da! Get up!" His head bolted outside and there stood Isobel, a bloody rag in her nose and a battleaxe pointed at her back by a fierce looking, steel-clad warrior. His jaw couldn't help but drop.
"Isobel, what in Oblivion is going on!?"
"Your daughter here tried to steal my horse." Akira answered, staring at the man intently. Brynjolf couldn't help but grit his teeth and put his head in his hands exasperatedly, beyond frustrated at yet another one of Isobel's poor choices. "She says you're traveling to Riften, is this true?"
"Yes." Brynjolf grumbled as he exited the crevice and stood up.
"And why is that?"
'Shit...' He cursed, not wanting to play a game of immobile charades so early in the morning, and couldn't hide his irritation as he tried to read Isobel's face. She pointed her eyes down at her belly.
"She's pregnant."
"That doesn't answer my question." Akira retorted, growing impatient. Isobel mouthed something to him but he had no idea what it was. He had to be vague.
"We live there."
"That's not what your daughter said."
"What I meant was we are going to live there."
"And what's the head Priest's name at the Temple your staying at?"
"Maramal."
Indeed, Isobel's story seemed to match up. She still wasn't sure this was all a ruse, but if it was then there was a good reason for Isobel to have tried to rob her of Daisy. The poor old man's legs were sore; likely from rockjoint or overworking them through an entire day. If she had any sense of kindness she'd let the old man borrow the horse and come back for Daisy in a few days. Knowing she had made up her mind she sighed, and let Isobel go.
"The horse is tied up by the road, it's yours if you want it." She said coolly, and he saw Isobel perk up. "Just teach your daughter some manners. She's lucky I'm a merciful person. However," She took a few steps forward, nearly touching her armoured chest to Brynjolf's as she glared up at him. "I hear anything regarding a red-head and a Breton stealing shit again, I will find you. I'm a warrior of the Companions, and we tend to hear about these sorts of things."
With that she gave a count-down from ten for the two thieves to pack up their camp, then proceeded to guide them down to the road, using her axe like a shepard's staff as they held their hands behind their heads. Once she untied the horse from a roadside birch tree and took her belongings did she give one final warning.
"Anything." She stressed as she placed the reins in Brynjolf's hands. "I hear anything of you hurting innocent people, and I'll find you. Who knows, an assignment might bring me to Riften, and I might stop by to see how the pregnancy's going." With a final threatening stare she turned and proceeded north, her pack slung over one shoulder as her battle axe gleamed in the sunlight.
"Thank you!" Isobel called. The woman ignored her, and as soon as Isobel turned her gaze from the warrior to Brynjolf he yanked the bloody rag out of her nose and slapped her with it.
"Are you out of your bloody mind?!" He snapped, showing Isobel the gory rag and hitting her cheek again with it, making her glare up at him as she wiped the blood off her face.
"I thought-"
"No you didn't! Robbing a horse from a Companion by yourself? You nearly got killed!"
"I just wanted to-"
"Stop it. I won't hear whatever bullshit reason you'll use to explain probably one of the stupidest things I have ever seen. We may have to deal with her again if she comes to Riften, you know what kind of shit that would put us in? Being sought out by Companions isn't something to take lightly! It's shit like this that makes me wonder how in Oblivion you became a senior member in Cyrodiil!"
"Hey! I'm-"
"You also told her I was your father?" Brynjolf said in disbelief as the horse started to whinny from the sudden raise of voices.
"I was pregnant! Camping with someone your age and not my kin would make her suspicious! What, did you want me to imply you were the one who knocked me up?" He knew she had a point, he just didn't want yet another reminder that his youth was over. Defeated, he strapped his belongings to the saddle and mounted the horse, begrudgingly holding out his hand for Isobel as he pulled her up behind him.
He was finally getting a taste of what Gallus felt when he took Brynjolf under his wing, he was starting to comprehend just how much stress he must've put on his Guild Master. Brynjolf recalled the time Gallus took him to the College of Winterhold while he was visiting a friend of his, and Brynjolf had the bright idea of stealing a book on the Mythic Dawn from a heavily locked display case simply because it had a cool cover. The Orc librarian proceeded to break the teenager's nose and wrist before giving him a black eye, and the only reason Brynjolf managed to get away was he was still skinny enough to climb the bookshelves. The professors and scholars were furious enough that someone was trying to steal from them, the topic of the book only raised their ire...no wonder Gallus nearly threw him out of the Guild for that.
...But as he felt Isobel's arms wrap around him he also understood why Gallus couldn't throw away someone he cared about...
"You should've seen the look on your face when you first woke up." Isobel said as he put the horse into motion. "You looked like a scared little thirteen-year-old girl who just got her first moonblood."
Damn it, that was it. Brynjolf tried with all his strength to suppress his laughter, but a muffled snort still escaped him.
"Hah hah, you laughed! I'm off the hook." Isobel cheered, glad that Brynjolf was in a brighter mood.
That is until they saw another horse running up to them.
This horse was white as snow and neighing loudly as he was forced to stop in front of them. One look at the owner had Brynjolf and Isobel immediately furious.
"Oh, so I'm late?" Errick asked, looking at the paint horse the two of them were now riding on. "Sorry, I had an issue in Riften revolving around a barrel of Mead with the guild's name on it."
"Errick..." Brynjolf and Isobel growled.
"Look, I'm sorry I overreacted yesterday. I left you behind after you left me behind, which was me breaking the rule I had assaulted you two over. I was being stupid, which is rare of me, and I only ask that your wrath be not as vengeful as the fires of Oblivion."
"You owe me six-hundred septims, Errick." Brynjolf growled.
"How about three-hundred."
Brynjolf crossed his arms.
"Four-hundred?"
"No. I want the whole six-hundred."
"Okay look, how about four-fifty AND I owe you a personal job that does not apply to the guild that you can call upon at any time."
Brynjolf scowled but dropped it. He was still very tired and didn't want to deal with the thief's antics. "Fine, but you better be there when I need that favor."
"Don't worry, Brynjolf. Unlike some other thieves you know, I don't go back on my word. Do you?"
"No, I don't. Not among the guild."
"Good. I'll give you the four-fifty from my payment when we get back to Riften."
"You didn't give Maven or Mercer the information?"
"Didn't want to do that until you guys got back. That's why I stole this horse, and all legal documents included. I was going to bring Swift here to help transport you guys to Riften. But then you went and got a horse. Something to do with Isobel's bleeding nose, I guess?"
"I picked a fight with a Companion. We both got nosebleeds." Isobel smiled.
"Ah, the Companions. I hear they smell like wet dog."
"She didn't smell like that to me."
"Hmm. Well it was just a rumor I heard, anyway. But that's a story for another day. Let's get back to Riften."
Meanwhile, Stryger and Brelyna had made it to Mzulft without interference from any creatures or fighting. Stryger had gained enough of his strength back to be able to travel but he couldn't use high-powered spells like his teleportation spell. Brelyna had tried to convince him to rest a bit longer, but Stryger argued that he'd been alive for almost two centuries, meaning he should know his limits better than her. Brelyna reluctantly had to follow along with Stryger.
"Do you mind if I ask more questions about your 'ability'?" Brelyna asked as they climbed up the steps to the door.
"Go ahead." Stryger accepted.
"Is there a limit to how much you can heal with a soul?"
"Of course. I can't bring the dead back to life. That would require an entire individual's soul, and even I don't know if there would be side effects for doing such a thing. Using an entire being's soul to bring a dead body back to life could just lead to a soul being transferred to another body, rather than bringing the person who was dead back."
"And you can use any captured souls to perform this magic?"
"Exactly. And I always try to carry many soul gems on hand so I can either fill them in combat or use them to help others."
"Is there a window of opportunity before it would be too late to use your gift on someone?"
"Unfortunately yes. If an individual has been wounded for a long period of time, there may be nothing I can do for them. The less time someone is injured, the more likely I can help them. Of course, my normal restoration abilities can still help people as much as my gift. In fact, they might be more effective than normal healers because of my gift."
"So Restoration is your best school of magic?"
"I suppose so." Stryger opened the door to the Dwemer ruin, letting Brelyna in first. He closed the door behind them and turned to see a dead mage on the floor. "Right. We were warned there would be other mages here trying to research this thing." He stepped forward towards the dead body and rummaged through the man's satchel.
"Do you make a habit of searching the dead?"
"Not if we're in a hold. But this is the open wild. No one cares if I check a dead man's pockets for information." Stryger pulled out a journal and a key. Setting the key into his satchel pocket he flipped through the journal for the most recent entry. "So, this guy was part of an expedition to get the device we're looking for working so they can find magical artifacts not in control by the Empire. They brought in a focusing crystal to replace a broken one, but it's not on him."
"Maybe it's with his friends."
"Or whoever killed him. Let's keep investigating." Stryger put the journal away and walked to the next door, ready to discover the location of the Staff of Magnus.
As Stryger was investigating his own ruin, Zacharius and Lydia had made it to Ustengrav. After getting a lot of sleep and helping around the hold of Morthal, Zacharius decided it was time to obtain the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller from his tomb. Afterwards he would quickly investigate a rumor of a dragon near Morthal's mountains. Once that was done his immediate plan was to head back to the Greybeards.
"Let's be careful, Lydia." Zacharius warned. "Given the reception outside there will likely be bandits."
"More likely we'll be dealing with the undead." Lydia retorted.
"In an ancient Nord tomb?" Zacharius scoff. "I'd be more surprised if they were all still asleep." He opened the door into the tomb and was welcomed to the smell of decay that filled every tomb. As he progressed further in he found the body of a recently-deceased bandit. "That's one less to deal with." Further in he could hear a hammering sound, like someone was trying to mine or excavate, before the pickaxe dropped and the sound of dissipating magic could be heard.
"Damn it." An unfamiliar voice spoke. "The dead don't stay alive long enough to clear even a tenth of this rubble."
"I told you we should have just captured some of the travelers on the road. They would make excellent slave labor."
"They would become more of a problem. We'd have to feed them and keep them under constant watch."
"They'd be around longer than the dead you keep raising."
"Shut up, fool, unless you want to join the bodies that do my bidding."
Zacharius crouched low and pulled his bow off of his backpack. Grasping an arrow from the quiver he readied his shot for the necromancer. Taking them out would be the fastest way of eliminating all of the hostiles in the room. All of the undead under their sway would disintegrate upon their death, leaving the bandit guard alone and easy to take out. Once the arrow was pulled back as far as Zacharius could pull it he released it, hitting the necromancer square in the chest. Their death throes were echoed with the dissipating magic that affected the undead. The lone bandit immediately became alert as they realized they weren't alone. Lydia charged in (without being commanded to) and fought against the bandit, killing them with a mighty blow from her shield.
"I didn't say you needed to charge in." Zacharius joked, standing up.
"I didn't say I wanted to sneak around." Lydia retorted. "You should know I'm not one for stealth."
"I'm pretty much up for anything: stealth, combat, magic; you name it, I'll do it."
"Not to mention slaying dragons."
"Someone's gotta do it, and since I'm Dragonborn it makes me an obvious candidate."
"And since I'm sworn to follow you I have to do it, as well."
"Woe is you, eh?" Zacharius joked. "Come on. I'm certain the other challenges of this tomb won't be a match for us."
Back in Markarth Scarlai walked through the gates in disguise, using some dark robes to hide the Dark Brotherhood armor underneath. His hood hung over his head, concealing his face from passerbys. The aura of darkness surrounded him, but looking at the guards he could sense treachery. Markarth has never had a glorious reputation, due to the bloody history between the Nords and the Breton Forsworn. Recently a bunch of Forsworn prisoners escaped from their prison in Cydna Mine, aided by who was suspected to be a murderer. Scarlai cared not for the rumors, but was intrigued by the news in some aspects.
Opening the door to the Silver-Blood Inn Scarlai stepped inside, breaking away from the looks of suspicion from the guards. He took in the aura of the inn, getting a feel for what was going on. The bartender was arguing with his wife about the state of the bar and it's unclean surface. A mercenary was warming himself by the fire, ignoring those who were around him. And someone Scarlai felt was familiar was sitting at the table drinking. Scarlai concentrated further until he could sense the presence of Muiri, the woman who had performed the Black Sacrament. She was in one of the rooms at the end of the hall. Keeping his focus on that he went to her room, being caught off guard as she opened the door herself.
"Oh!" Muiri exclaimed, being startled by the man who stood in front of her door. "I'm sorry. I didn't know someone was standing in front of my door.
" I'm here to speak with you, Muiri, on behalf of the Brotherhood."
Muiri's surprise quickly turned to realization as her eyes shot up. She waved her hand and welcomed him inside, shutting the door once he was in her room. "I didn't know if the Black Sacrament was going to work. But I guess I know it does now."
"The Dark Brotherhood isn't as effective as it was back centuries ago, but it has been listening. Who is it that you want dead?"
"Well, I made friends with the Shatter-Shield family back in Windhelm. They were grieving over the death of their daughter, Friga. Then I met Alain Dufont. At first, I thought that he had actually liked me. Then I find out that he had stolen their family's battle hammer Aegisbane and blamed me for it."
"So you want me to take out Alain."
"Yes. He is at a dwarven ruin named Raldbthar. I will pay you a fair reward for his death, but I have an optional request."
"What is it?"
"I want you to kill Nilsine Shatter-Shield."
Scarlai cocked his head. "Are you certain that is a request you want fulfilled? The Shatter-Shields were your friends."
"And they threw me to the wolves when they didn't believe me. I felt like family to them, and I want Tova to feel how I felt when they cast me aside."
Scarlai rubbed his beard for a moment. "And you will extend the fee for her death?"
"Absolutely. I have an item that would be worth the fee."
"Then I will do as you ask."
"Thank you. Now, it's best if we part ways. I have to get to my job back at the alchemy shop and I'm sure you'll want to get to work immediately. It's a long journey to Raldbthar."
"I can be there before nightfall. I know where Raldbthar is. Alain will see to his crimes." Scarlai opened the door and departed, passing by and gaining the attention of the man drinking.
"Hey, Stranger. In a rush? Why don't you sit down for a drinking contest. Maybe if you win, I'll give you a little staff."
Scarlai stopped, turned to face the man, and smiled. "Maybe some other time, Sam, unless someone else wins that staff from you." And with that final phrase he departed the inn, leaving behind the presences of those within.
*Jornada stepped into Dawnstar's museum around the cult of The Mythic Dawn. Long ago, Mehrunes Dagon had commanded the Cult to kill the Septim family to allow him to break apart the boundaries between Nirn and Oblivion. Unfortunately Martin Septim, the secret heir to the throne, re-obtained his birthright through the Amulet of Kings, turning himself into the avatar of Akatosh. All of this was made possible by Caleb Secus, a convicted murderer turned Champion who aided the Last Septim to retrieve the Amulet of Kings from Mankar Camoran. Two years later Jornada arrived under the guise of a werewolf, being more animal than demon. The Stranger asked for the aid of Caleb and his two unknown companions at the time. Jornada was cornered like an animal as one of Caleb's companions cast lightning upon her, seeping her of her magic while merely tickling her. As Jornada had attempted to swing back Caleb jumped forward, blocking her attack with his shield while lunging his sword into her chest. Her voice howled as her animal side felt the pain, and before she could react her head was rolling across the grass, mercilessly decapitated by The Stranger.
Now she was ready to return the favor.
The owner of the museum stepped up when he realized he had a visitor. He was dressed in robes of red and gold, and his smile showed he held pride in his heritage. "What luck." He spoke. "A visitor. And a well-armed one at that, dressed in Daedric armor. I assume you have an interest in the Daedra?"
"I do." Jornada spoke.
"Well you've come to the right place. Within this museum are artifacts from the Mythic Dawn cult that toppled the Empire at the end of the Third Era. From Mankar Camoran's Commentaries to a page from the Mysterium Xarxes, everything in here has a place in that historic moment."
Jornada stepped up to the glass display that held the page from the Mysterium Xarxes, frowning at it. "This isn't a real page from the Mysterium Xarxes. In fact, that book stayed in possession of the Blades until they were purged from Cloud Ruler Temple in the Great War."
"How do you know it isn't authentic?"
"Because I know demonic texts. This is a fake."
"Well it's all I have. I am, however, looking to acquire something very authentic. Centuries ago, there were numerous daggers made by Mehrunes Dagon called Mehrunes Razor. Most of them were destroyed long ago, but I know where one can be found. Well, actually the razor I know of has been broken into multiple pieces, but I know where you can find all three of them. Then we could take the pieces to Dagon's shrine, where he can repair the razor."
"Interesting." Jornada smiled behind her helmet. "Tell me where I can find these pieces and I'll acquire them for you."
Her plan was coming together nicely.*
Back at Mzulft Stryger and Brelyna were not having a good time. They were busy fighting against a few Falmer while trying to find the stolen focusing crystal. However, every time they thought they had found it, another Falmer or a Dwemer automation would appear to try and kill them. Not only that, but despite being blind the Falmer were still good shots. Already four arrows had almost hit him in the face, and if he wasn't good at dodging then he has to be good at it now.
"I have had it with these degenerated elves." Stryger grumbled.
"Degenerated? Really?" Brelyna remarked.
"Hey, they've gone from very civil to very tribal all thanks to the Dwemer. And they don't try to communicate with people unless it involves arrows or spells. I think that counts as degenerating." Stryger whipped out a fireball spell and whipped it right at the Falmer, incinerating two of them and angering the leader. The leader in return fired a lightning bolt at Stryger, forcing him to duck behind cover.
"You really shouldn't be casting powerful spells too much." Brelyna warned. "What if you collapse again?"
"Then how about you use a powerful spell to take that Falmer spellcaster out." Stryger argued.
Brelyna scowled before she prepared a chain lightning spell, charging up the spell before she stood up. As soon as she was up she fired it straight at the Falmer, electrifying them and draining their magicka. Brelyna, however, couldn't keep the spell up for long, and soon ran out of magicka herself. The falmer was still standing, but Stryger pulled out a less powerful fire spell and finished it off. With the room finally clear Stryger took a quick breath, noticing Brelyna's face was paler than his own.
"You used a lot of magicka to use that spell." Stryger spoke, holding out a magicka potion from his satchel.
Brelyna took it willingly and uncorked it, downing the strange mixture. She coughed for a moment afterwards, but the color did seem to return to her face. "Better me than you."
"Because I'm the only one who knows how to use the teleportation spell?"
"Well there's that." Brelyna smiled. "Let's see if this guy had the focusing crystal."
Stryger smiled and walked up to the dead Falmer spellcaster. He crouched down beside it and searched through its pack, smiling even wider when he found the focusing crystal. "Well about bloody time." He stood up with the prize in hand. "Finally found it."
"Good. Let's get to the observatory and figure this all out." Brelyna and Stryger began walking towards the observatory room, passing by more of the dead scholars and their Falmer attackers. "How many people here have died from this?"
"Too many." Stryger noted, keeping an eye on the bodies in case any of them flinched. "Come on." They climbed up the ascending pathway to see the Dwemer mechanisms that powered the Oculory. "I always wondered how Dwemer technology worked, but I've never gotten around to studying it. Perhaps with all of these ruins in Skyrim we can make an attempt at studying them."
"After this business with the Eye of Magnus is settled, I assume." Brelyna stated.
"Of course. Gotta save the world first, then study the ruins." Stryger brought the focusing crystal to the empty spot on the machinery, setting it perfectly within. "Well, that's good. What now?"
"Now, I assume we just gets these devices to focus. Maybe we have to use heat and cold?"
"Good idea." Stryger brought out the flame and frostbite spells within each of his hands. The next few minutes were spent with him trying to focus the Oculory to reveal the location of the Staff of Magnus. Once things ended up in the right position, a map of Skyrim was revealed, with two major points of interest appearing.
"That's the College to the Northeast." Brelyna pointed.
"And there's the Staff of Magnus." Stryger pointed at the other major spot highlighted on the map. "Looks like it's at Labyrinthian."
"Labyrinthian?"
"It's an ancient Nordic temple, if I recall correctly. Plenty of undead, but most importantly, the best place to hide an ancient staff that is meant to be with an ancient sphere of infinite power. We'd better get to Labyrinthian, then." Stryger began walking back down the stairs, eager to get the staff before something serious happened to the college.
That is until a member of the Psijic Order appeared.
Just as he was leaving the Aedrome he appeared out of nowhere, nearly startling the mages that were about to continue their mission.
"You have done well thus far, but trying times are ahead." The Psijic mage spoke. "It is imperative that you return to your college at once. You will be called on to take Swift action. Rise to the challenge, and discover what you are capable of. You are on the right path, and you will prevail."
And just like that, the Psijic mage was gone again.
"How do they do those things?" Stryger questioned.
"He said we had to return to the College." Brelyna stated. "Do you think that means something's about to happen with the eye?"
"I don't know, but if they took the time to warn us about it maybe we should head back to the College. They know more about the Eye of Magnus than we do, anyways. Let's get moving. I need to be outside so we can teleport."
"Will you have enough strength to get us there?" Brelyna asked, looking worried.
"Don't worry. I'll be able to get us there. Let's go."
As Stryger and Brelyna were departing Mzulft Zacharius and Lydia had made it farther into the catacombs, finding a path that led down to a word wall. The only sounds made were the clanging of bones from skeletons that were fell and the rushing water of the waterfall. Lydia looked intently at the wall as Zacharius approached. The songs of ancient Nords echoed in his head as he approached the word on the wall. On the wall was a glowing word of power, and when he approached it the magic seeped into his mind.
"FEIM!"
The magic etched into his mind made him feel hollow, as if he was a ghost for a moment. As the magic dissipated Lydia couldn't help but whistle.
"That's a neat trick. How are you feeling?"
"Like I was a ghost for a second there." Zacharius cleared his throat. "Let's get moving. Jurgen's tomb has to be close." He headed back up the path with Lydia in tow, stopping at a unique puzzle. There were six pillars and three gates blocking the path ahead. Zacharius approached the first two pillars and began investigating them, noticing they glowed red as he approached them. When he went in between them they brightened up, pulling the first gate up.
"I've never seen anything quite like that." Lydia noted.
"Perhaps it is reacting to my heritage as Dragonborn." Zacharius assumed. With that thought he had an idea. "I know what I need to do." Immediately he sprinted through the other pillars, noticing the other gates rise. "WULD!" He quickly shouted, passing through all of the gates before they closed behind him. Once he passed through all three they dropped down before raising up, allowing Lydia to re-join her Thane.
"This place must have built specifically to test you." Lydia commented.
"Quite possibly." Zacharius agreed. He continued onwards until he noticed the next room. "Lydia, we may have a problem."
"What is it?"
"The next room looks like it has a trap floor. I can probably pass through it with my new shout, but you might get burned."
"Something tells me that might be a thing that happens during our adventures."
"Don't joke about that. I'm being serious right now."
"Well, I could try running really fast through it to safe ground. I'll go first and I'll get to somewhere safe."
Zacharius shook his head, but sighed. "All right, but I'm gonna be prepared with a healing spell in case you get burned."
Lydia nodded and immediately ran through, stepping off of the platforms as fast as possible before the flames Rose to consume her. The steel of her boots did well in protecting her feet and calves, and she managed to get to safety without a noticeable burn on her body. When Zacharius knew she was safe, he immediately spoke the new word of power he learned.
"FEIM!"
His entire body became etheral, giving him a ghostly visage. He moved quickly, never setting off any of the traps on the floor. Once he was alongside Lydia his ghostly visage left him, bringing him back to his normal guise. He looked up to see a frostbite spider descend from the ceiling, causing him to raise his shield in an attempt to protect him from the spider's bite.
"My Thane!" Lydia immediately acted, pulling her sword out and running it through the giant spider. The enormous bug stopped moving afterwards, becoming limp on Zacharius's shield. He lowered his shield, dropping the dead insect onto the ground.
"Thanks, Lydia." Zacharias smiled. "I owe you one." He continued on through the door, reaching a small path with two pools of water on either side. The sarcophagus of Jurgen Windcaller was at the end of the pathway. The two of them walked up to it, jumping when they noticed two giant pillars raise up from the pools on both sides of the path.
"By the ancestors, what is that all about?!"
"The ancient Notes continue to impress me with their enginuity." Zacharius relaxed. "To give these stone carvings the ability to raise when travellers are nearby..." He dropped his thought and walked up to the sarcophagus, frowning when he noticed something.
"What is it, my Thane?"
"The horn is not here." He picked up the note left in its place and quickly read it.
Dragonborn-
I must speak with you. Urgently.
Rent the Attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I'll meet you.
- A friend
"Well now, someone wants my attention." Zacharius grumbled. "Whoever it is has the horn, and I can't pass my trial without it."
"Could it be a trap?"
"Possibly, but at the same time the person who has it could actually be a friend."
"So what will we do?"
Zacharius turned and faced Lydia. "First we'll handle the dragon nearby. Then we'll head to Riverwood. We need that horn and whoever has it better be friendly."
"And if they're not?"
"Then we deal with them."
Present Day
"So who had the horn?" Ronin asked, slurping up the last of his beef stew.
"That's something we can continue tomorrow." Zacharius spoke, standing up from the table. "We have covered more than enough of the story today."
"Yeah, but you're leaving us at a cliffhanger." Torygg stated.
"Yeah, and I can do that. You know why? Because it's my story."
"Sure, but it's still a dick move. Leaving the audience in suspense just leaves them unsatisfied."
"But also wanting more." Zacharius smiled. "Finish up with dinner. I must rest. Tomorrow we need to take care of the skeleton on my lawn. Perhaps I shall craft weapons from the bones for you. Maybe even add some enchantments to them."
"You'd do that?" Torygg's face lit up like a bonfire hearing about Zacharius crafting Dragon-bone weapons.
"Of course. Since my brother discovered how I could use the bones and scales to craft weapons I've been mastering the craft here for fifty years. Every time my son visits he has bones and scales from dragons that still prey on the innocent. I craft them into weapons and armor that are then sold anomonously to blacksmiths across Tamriel. After all, I wanted to keep my life private after I was offered to become the next High King of Skyrim."
"That happened after you slew Ulfric Stormcloak, yes?" Ronan asked.
"Yes, but I'd rather not get ahead of myself just yet. Ulfric's fate is something that we'll discuss in the future. Now finish up your dinner. I may need your help tomorrow, despite me not letting my age get the best of me."
"Or your loss of sight from time to time."
"Exactly." Zacharius walked up to the kitchen to return his plate and bowl, dropping them into the sink. "Good night, you two." He headed upstairs with his wife and left the two men alone with Mirabelle in the kitchen.
Ronan grabbed another slice of bread and prepared it with some butter. Torygg started losing at him funny, and eventually Ronan couldn't take his brother's staring.
"What is it?"
"You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"I don't think so."
"I think that Errick took the horn to fuck with him."
"That's impossible. Errick was still in Riften when he went to Ustengrav."
"Yeah, but think about it: Errick is an evil genius. His journal confirms it. He's intelligent enough to make bombs fifty years before anyone discovered anything about using alchemy to make magic, he has managed to break into the realm of Oblivion, and he considers himself to be the greatest thief in history. What better way to cement it than to steal something Zacharius was searching for that Errick might not have had any knowledge on?"
"But if he had no knowledge on it how could he have stolen it?"
Torygg attempted to come up with an explanation, but shut his mouth when he realized he had nothing. Ronan shook his head and looked down in thought. When Torygg took notice he looked again, noticing his brother seemed confused. "What's wrong, big guy?"
Ronan was silent for a moment. "I just- I think Zacharius might be hiding something about his story."
"What do you mean?"
"We know that there's a prophecy he keeps mentioning, but there are also beings more powerful at work behind the scenes. That masked man at Bleak Falls Barrow was proof of that. And some of his companions... They all seemed to hide secrets. Scarlai could use blood as a form of magic, Akira kept her past a secret for some reason, Stryger was investigating a power he had but didn't know much about, and Errick was a mystery wrapped in an enigma. Then there's Isobel, who had secrets of her own that Errick could catch. We know they existed, but how much do we really know about them?"
Torygg shrugged before noticing Zacharius's wife standing right behind Ronan. Ronan took notice of his brother and looked behind him.
"You may think that Zacharius is hiding information, but in actuality he's telling the story the way he and his companions lived it. Akira was secretive because the death of her family traumatized her. Scarlai was a complicated man even when Zacharius met him. Stryger was a young, conflicted Altmer who eventually grew to be a great leader and found respect in Zacharius. And Errick... Well, when I first met Errick I didn't like him. Most of us didn't, but once you got to know him he would open up more about his past. And Isobel, since you seemed to mention her, was much different than any other woman I had ever met. She had secrets and insecurities, yes, but her training at a young age made her want to grow up faster than what time allows. And everything else just fell into place for her."
"And what about you?" Ronan asked.
"I did what I have always done: stand by my husband's side through his dark moments and his triumphs." She smiled. "And he would always walk out of his troubles with his head held high. He was always brave and yet stubborn, but conflicted after Alduin was defeated."
"Why was he conflicted?"
She smiled. "That will have to wait for when it comes up in the story. After all, my husband wouldn't want me to give away the important details like that."
Ronan sighed. "Figures."
"My husband is writing letters to his friends so that those who held a part in his story could come and share their tales with him. You can ask them all the questions you want when they arrive."
"When will that be?" Torygg asked.
"In a few days, at least. They would need to prepare for the journey after receiving them. Fortunately, almost all of them reside in Skyrim, even the friends that appeared after Alduin's defeat. The only person who may be tricky to get a hold of is Scarlai."
"Why's that?"
"He's in Solstheim right now, and has resided there mostly since the events of Miraak's return. That event was the twilight of my husband's journey as Dragonborn, before the others chose to be more active. Scarlai had to return there due to a vision of a past acquaintance of his."
"Will he be able to be here before Zacharius finishes telling the story?"
"Of course. It's only a short flight from there to here."
"Flight?" Ronan asked.
"On a dragon, of course. They all managed to learn a shout to control dragons. Our son sometimes uses it when he thinks a dragon is worthy of sparing, commanding them away from those they threaten."
"Interesting." Torygg spoke. "I wish I could control a dragon."
"You'd abuse the overgrown lizard if you could." Ronan jabbed.
"No, I wouldn't!" Torygg snapped. "I would take care of him and love him and call him George."
"Who in Oblivion calls their dragon George?!"
"I would."
"Well you won't be able to because you can't shout."
Torygg groaned before Zacharius's wife cleared her throat. "I think it's time the two of you take care of your dishes and head to bed. After all, you want to be able to hear more of my husband's story, right? Well that can't happen if you're yelling all night." And with that she departed back upstairs, leaving the two boys alone.
"How many people do you suspect will be here when his friends show up?" Torygg asked.
"Let's see: Akira, Errick, Stryger, and Scarlai would count as four people. Farkas, Brelyna, and Isobel may also count, so that's seven. But anyone else is anyone's guess."
"True." Torygg stood up. "I wonder if they'll be as chatty about their adventures as Zacharius."
"They're practically legends. I wouldn't be surprised if they weren't talkative about their past." Ronan stood up, grabbing his own dishes and heading for the kitchen. The last few minutes were spent in silence as they washed their dishes and headed up to bed. Throughout the whole time Ronan couldn't stop thinking about the story, and how there was still some major information missing. Why was there ever a prophecy involving all five of them? Was there someone in the background manipulating things? Why did it sound like Zacharius was holding some information back?
Most importantly: would what comes next be what Ronan wanted to hear? Or would the tale grow dark?
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So this is practically the end of Act 1, as I am referring to it as. The opening of the next chapter is going to be starting in the present with Ronan asking Zacharius more about his past and revealing his doubts and insecurities about what Zacharius is saying and not saying about his history as the Dragonborn. Reviews from anyone old or new will of course be welcome.