Chapter 85
The Arena
(Music is Youtube: Skyrim - Music and Ambience - Night)
Bishop assured Duful that he would help them all and told him to hold on for a little longer. That he would bring him money and food and whatever else they needed in small amounts so Ost wouldn't know.
As he made his way back to the Imperial Palace he was going over everything in his mind. Tomorrow he would go and sign up in the Arena and start working his way up in the ranks and hopefully get to a point where he'd be accepted into the finals.
He went into the Palace and presented his papers to the mage standing by at the magic lift, allowing him to be uncomfortably swept up twenty stories high with nothing but a spell. He hated that feeling every time and was glad to be on solid ground again once at the top.
He went around the winding corridor, walking through the moonlight pouring in from the large arched windows on the outer walls and made it to their suite. He held his hand at the door knob, thinking and debating with himself. Would he tell her? He didn't want her to know about the engagement ring yet, that would ruin the surprise obviously. But should he tell her about his family? About his plans? Could he bring himself to talk to her about Ost and all the awful things he'd done to his sisters and the rest of them? He didn't want to traumatize her all over again when her own horrific encounter with Thorn was still so fresh in the last month.
He also didn't want to burden her with his own troubles when she had so many of her own already piled on top of her. With the dragons, the search for the Elder Scroll, her training and now the Dark Brotherhood getting in the mix, it just seemed too much. Not to mention she was participating in this wedding for her friends.
He'd enjoyed her beautiful smile all night long, she was starting to be herself again. Singing, dancing and sharing her unending joy with the world. He didn't want to take that from her. He resolved to keep it to himself then. He hadn't even told her about Elise or Holly yet, not wanting to stain her happiness with his sorrow.
Of course if he was off fighting in the Arena day after day she was definitely going to start to wonder just where in Oblivion he was all the time. He'd need Magrob's help with that and hoped that the orc would cover for him.
Bishop turned the knob and let himself into their suite. The room was quiet and dark, save for a few lit candles near the bed. He wandered over and looked down at Rona who was tucked under the silk sheets and sleeping soundly. She probably got tired of waiting and was too drunk to keep her eyes open. He sat down on the bed beside her and gently stroked her hair. She didn't stir at all. She had definitely passed out. He was feeling pretty tired himself, but also restless. His mind was whirling with thoughts and memories of his family.
He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, then got back up and stepped out of their suite. He remembered seeing a balcony nearby and decided to get some fresh air and mull over his thoughts for a while. He didn't have to walk far to find one either. He stepped through the archway and out across the stone balcony towards the balustrade and leaned forward, resting his elbows on it. He looked up at the star strewn sky, which seemed even more incredible just from that height. Then he looked down at the city far below. It was just as amazing and, aside from how dark everything was, he could see the rolling landscape for miles. Cyrodiil really was a beautiful place, it was no wonder Rona loved it so much and wanted to come back so badly.
He'd lived there too for a time, even there on the Waterfront when he was still just a lad, between the ages of twelve and seventeen. Granted they'd only been on the Waterfront for a few years before Torban caused enough trouble that they all had to uproot again to another part of Cyrodiil. He'd become so accustomed to that nomadic lifestyle that it had simply become a part of him. It was almost hard staying in one place for too long. Rona was like that too and it was one of the things he loved about her, despite the few times it got them into serious trouble. He wanted to travel the world with her to see every amazing thing Nirn had to offer them.
He sighed loudly thinking over all of these things, his family, her and what he needed to do in the next coming days.
Then he heard the sound of a man's a voice.
"Well... I hadn't realized there would be someone else out this late."
Bishop just rolled his eyes, not even bothering to look back at the man, hoping the noble or whoever the hell it was would move on to another balcony.
But the man continued speaking, his gentle voice approaching behind him, "I hope you don't mind if I join you. Lovely evening tonight. How I do enjoy the stars at this time. Makes for a pleasant ambiance while one contemplates their thoughts."
Bishop gave a low growl of annoyance and grumbled, "Was a nice ambiance, until you interrupted it."
The man chuckled and said, "My apologies, I can move along to another balcony if you prefer."
"Yeah," Bishop snapped, "I would prefer that."
He could hear the smile in the man's voice as he said, "It's just I do like this one. It does after all, have the best view of Cyrodiil."
Bishop spun around exasperated and barked, "Look! I don't know who you think you are but… but…" His voice trailed off, his face fell and his eye twitched as he came face to face with the most important man in Cyrodiil and quite possibly all of Nirn.
Emperor Titus Mede the Second met Bishop's gaze with kind eyes and a warm smile. He was an older man, someone grandfatherly. He was completely bald on his head, although he did have a full and well trimmed grey beard that wrapped around his jaw and under his nose. He was dressed in very impressive noble's clothing, wearing the dark blue robes of a royal with a red and gold patterned design and the insignia of the Imperial Empire pressed to the front. He had a fur trimmed dark blue shoulder cloak which fell down to the backs of his knees.
Bishop stammered, "You... you're... you're him."
Emperor Mede grinned a little wider at him and asked, "Oh? Who am I then?"
"You're... the Emperor," he said dumbstruck.
Emperor Mede nodded, grasping his chin with his forefinger and thumb as he pressed his other arm to his back and said, "By Talos, I think you're right!"
Bishop blinked at that remark and Emperor Mede stepped forward, meeting him by the balustrade. The old man turned and looked at Bishop's astonished face and then asked, "I hope my mention of the ninth divine didn't offend you. I thought it might be an appropriate remark considering your heritage. If I am not mistaken you are a nord, are you not? You wouldn't run off and tell the Thalmor about an old man's ramblings now would you?"
Bishop laughed slightly and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "Hell no. Those are the last people I want to see these days."
"I thought as much," Emperor Mede said knowingly. Then he grasped the balustrade and looked up at the stars. He pointed to a cluster of them and said, "I see our fair one The Lady is present tonight. Such a lovely constellation."
Bishop was speechless. He hadn't thought a whole lot about what he would say to the Emperor if he met him, because he honestly never believed it would happen to him, but the few times he did, he'd always told himself he'd confront the damned bastard who refused to sack or even imprison the man that nearly had Rona killed back in Helgen. Now though, he was at a loss. The Emperor was so unlike his preconceived notions. He seemed normal. Which is exactly what Rona had told him once. He's really nice. Very... easy to talk to...he just talked to me like I was any other person, almost like we were already friends.
Emperor Mede glanced at Bishop then and asked, "Speaking of fair ladies, tell me how is Lady Rona? Doing well I hope? I haven't had an opportunity to meet with her. Serlas tells me she's been quite busy helping her friends plan their wedding."
Bishop croaked out, "Uh… she's good..."
He felt like such an idiot. Here was someone with so much power literally making conversation with him and he couldn't bring himself to speak more than two words to the man.
Then the Emperor met his gaze directly and asked sincerely, "And how are you Bishop? I hope you're well, all things considered."
He knew his name? Of course he knew his name. Serlas spoke with the Emperor often, chances are he'd told the Emperor all about Rona's journey and consequently him as well. And here he was asking him if things were well, like they were old friends. Did he really care? If he didn't then he was doing a damn fine job of pretending like he did.
Emperor Mede waited for a reply, but when none came he just chuckled and said, "I promise I don't bite! Although my shadow might," he looked over and smirked back at a tall, thin, dunmer man dressed in black leather armor, who was standing by in the shadows, arms crossed. His face was set with the most serious look on it and his red eyes watched Bishop intently. Emperor Mede turned away from his personal guard and encouraged Bishop, "Please, you are free to speak to me as you would to any other person. I'm sure you have questions or perhaps you might simply wish to share your thoughts and concerns with me. How has the city been treating you? Clean? Safe? We work very hard to make sure our citizens are taken care of."
Bishop frowned a little, eyes narrowing when he recalled the robbery at the Red Diamond. Although he was hesitant to out his own brother at that point. It seemed a bit naive for the Emperor to be acting like things were all hunky dory down in the city. But the man was really insistent on hearing what he had to say, so he figured, why not? Let me give this noble - this king, a piece of my mind!
"What are you doing for the citizens out on the Waterfront other than forgetting all about them?" He asked pointedly.
Emperor Mede didn't even flinch at the question, "We have already put in place safety nets for the poorest members of our society. There are soup kitchens, homeless shelters and plenty more resources for them to acquire right here in the Palace should they choose to use them."
Bishop scowled at him, "Oh like it's that easy to just walk into a place where a bunch of wealthy nobles hang around turning their noses down at the poorest members of their society and just ask for help! That's incredibly ignorant of you."
Emperor Mede stroked his chin thoughtfully and said, "Yes, you're right. I can definitely see how that would turn many away from the services we offer. Tell me, Bishop, what would you recommend to circumvent that issue?"
Bishop cocked a brow at the man. He was actually asking his opinion? He could hardly believe it. "Well, for starts," he said, "you could bring the resources to them, instead of putting them in a place they wouldn't dare go most of the time."
The Emperor nodded, "I like that idea. We could build an agency out that way, a place where people have easier access to our services."
"Yeah and hire them to run it," Bishop added, "Easier for them to talk to someone they know who's lived it than to talk to someone they think will just judge them for their class."
The Emperor smiled and said, "I'm grateful for your insight Bishop, it's not often that I get to speak to those who once experienced lives of poverty on a daily basis. I'm sure that was hard for you and I'm positive that if you'd had these services more readily available to you back then, things might have been different for you and your family."
Bishop frowned a little at the man. He really didn't like it when strangers knew all about his family and his business, and despite the fact that he was the Emperor, he was still definitely a stranger to him.
Emperor Mede could see his discomfort and said, "I hope that wasn't discourteous of me. As Emperor I'm quite well-versed on many of my citizens lives and families and well, unfortunately, your father's infamy left an enduring impression on my mind since his last visit to the city. I heard he's since passed on though, is that right?"
"Yeah," Bishop muttered turning away from the man to look out at the sprawling landscape.
"I hope you'll forgive my indecorous words, but I was incredibly relieved when Serlas told me he was deceased. I'm sure you must have felt the same?"
"Thrilled," Bishop said almost sarcastically.
Emperor Mede continued, saying, "I know some of your other family is here as well? Out on the Waterfront? I hear your brother is quite the extraordinary gladiator in the ranks of the Arena. You must be quite proud."
Bishop's face was lined heavily with annoyance and anger then. The Emperor raised a brow at his expression and asked, "Hm... More bad blood I take it? I know the feeling. I didn't always get along so well with my own siblings. Only got worse after I became Emperor."
"You don't know a damn thing, do you?" Bishop grumbled.
"Well I know a few things, you might be surprised, because making an edible chaurus pie is one of them," he said lightheartedly.
Bishop just rolled his eyes and shook his head slowly.
"Not one for humor I take it? Well then, perhaps you'll tell me what's on your mind. You seem consumed by something."
"What makes you say that?" Bishop scoffed.
"Well, normally one doesn't come out and stare at the stars alone at oh, what is it? About three in the morning now? Unless they have something on their minds."
"If I told you, would it make a difference? Would you do anything about it?"
Emperor Mede raised his brows curiously and offered, "I could certainly try, if it is something I can influence."
Bishop turned and looked right at him then, "My brother Ost... he's abusing my family, whatever's left of them anyhow. He uses the power and status he's gained from rising in the ranks of your Arena and the money he gets to lord it over them and control them."
The Emperor pressed his lips firmly together and looked back out over the landscape then he said, "I've met your brother. When he won the last championship a year ago I was there for the event and greeted and congratulated the winner. I knew who he was, as I keep tabs on all the contenders in the Arena... My first impression of him was that he was indeed very much like your father, Torban. And that bothered me. I sent Granis here," he nodded to the dunmer, "to observe him for a short while. I know what he's been doing to your family."
Bishop got angry then and shouted, "If you knew why didn't do anything!? Throw him in prison! Kick him out of the Arena!"
"I would have," Emperor Titus said, "but the Arena is not ours to start. It was sold to a private owner years ago after the Oblivion Crisis left our city in ruins. We needed the money to rebuild and my great-great grandfather, Titus the First, sold it off to a wealthy Imperial."
"As for imprisoning your brother for his crimes, we did once. We managed to catch him in the act of a lesser crime, brawling in a tavern where he nearly killed a man. Of course, while I tried to keep him under lock and key, even my power has its limits. We have a legal system set in place to prevent any of the leaders, myself and those in the Elder Council, from taking too much power and using it against the citizens in an unfair manner. As much as I wanted to keep him there, I simply couldn't. He is also backed by Lucias Medici, who is the current owner of the Arena. The man's pockets are bottomless and we have deep suspicions that he runs an organized crime ring and uses the Arena as a front for his criminal activities," Bishop made to speak again, to argue why he hadn't done anything about that either, but Emperor Titus waved a hand dismissively, and said quickly, "The issue with that, however, is that the Medici family are very well known and highly respected. They often give to charity and provide quite a lot to the community. Lucias is also an expert in hiding his criminal activities and without more evidence we have not been able to make a move on him."
Bishop narrowed his eyes at him, "So all those things you said before, keeping the city safe and blah blah, that nonsense... It's all bullshit. Your city is completely corrupt isn't it? The guards too?"
Emperor Titus nodded his head slowly and said, "To be quite honest when the civil war broke out in Skyrim, well, my attentions have been kept there for some time now. As it is, I'm unable to focus much on the happenings in the city and have reluctantly left it up to the Elder Council... very reluctantly, I might add, since I am almost positive that the corruption runs deep within our own ranks as well."
"Fuck..." Bishop growled and gripped at the balustrade, "FUCK!"
Emperor Titus sighed and said, "I couldn't agree more with that sentiment."
"I'll do it," he said suddenly, "I'll expose it all."
Emperor Titus chuckled and asked, "May I ask how you plan to do so?"
"Well, I'm already joining the gladiators so I can," he hesitated to say, kill my brother and instead said, "so I can duel Ost. Challenge him man to man."
"If you made it that far then you would be very close to Lucias indeed and that is a dangerous position to be in my friend."
"Pft," Bishop scoffed at him, "You never met Thorn."
Emperor Titus averted his eyes at that one. Of course he knew who Thorn was too, he'd been the one to send the Paladins to the Rift to put a stop to it all. He was starting to feel very frustrated with this so-called Emperor, a man with insurmountable resources and power, who apparently, couldn't do anything with it. Not to mention he was also the reason his brother was dead, at least partly and the reason Rona was almost killed, again partly. Every motion set in place by this one man had impacted them directly.
"Why didn't you fire him?" Bishop asked suddenly, glaring right at the Emperor, "Commander Tullius. Why did you keep him, after what happened in Helgen?"
"Tullius has his faults and his flaws, certainly, but he is the best of the best. On council with my peers I simply couldn't afford to lose the man, not in this war," he kept his answer short and concise, obviously not wanting to discuss that issue.
Bishop twisted his head, looking away from this infuriating man and snapped, "Just more shit! All you do is spew shit all day, don't you?"
Emperor Titus broke into a mild laughter and said, "Well, I've never had it said so directly to my face like that, but yes, I'm sure some would say that's what I do."
"Just let the nords have Skyrim already," Bishop said, "You know what the Thalmor tried to do to her right? What they're planning to? I'm sure Serlas told you all about it. She almost died because of them, because of you and your fucking war."
Emperor Titus took a deep breath, inhaling and then sharply exhaling, "Indeed. He has updated me on the entire situation and I couldn't be more troubled for her. However, if I let the Stormcloaks take Skyrim, then the Aldmeri Dominion will crush all of us. You were too young for the Great War, I know that, but it's impossible. They have more power than we ever will. I know they want to keep the civil war going, to tie up our troops in the north, to keep the people divided and perhaps it is because they intend to come along and strike us at our weakest, taking what they believe is rightfully theirs. I don't know yet. But I want her to stay out of it, just as she has been doing. We will take care of our own and we will bring the peace back to Skyrim soon."
Bishop roared, "THEY ALREADY TOOK WHITERUN! Gods! You're an idiot!"
Emperor Titus looked over at his personal guard, who had withdrawn his crossbow and had it aimed for Bishop, face still set as serious as ever. The Emperor waved a hand at the dunmer and said, "It's alright Granis, stand down," he cleared his throat and put his hands behind his back and said, "They hold Whiterun, for now, but from my understanding Tullius is already working on securing Markarth and advancing troops back to Whiterun. I expect they will be taking the city back in another month's time."
"Just, fucking great," Bishop grit his teeth. All of the Companions were in Whiterun and the last thing that place needed was another attack on the city. Nelkir and a bunch of other little kids were there now too.
"You're worried for your friends, the Companions? I've already informed Tullius to leave them be. So long as they stay out of the battle they will be unharmed. They did a lot for us in Solitude and we're grateful for that. We remember those who are loyal to us."
"The Companions are loyal to no one," Bishop growled, "They fight for honor and glory and coin if you've got it."
Emperor Titus smirked and chuckled, "I suppose you're right. Well how about this then, hmm? Since you are a Companion, or were, I suggest you fight in the Arena for just that, honor and glory. Leave Lucias to us. You already have enough going on in your life that you don't need to add the troubles of Cyrodiil to it all."
Bishop made no reply, but he did give a short nod of assent. The man was right. He couldn't take on the task of ending corruption in Cyrodiil, he would need an entire Legion just to do that.
"Now, when you do rise in the ranks, which I have no doubt you will do easily, if you are as skilled as Serlas tells me, you'll want to watch your back very closely. Lucias will definitely take notice and he has been suspicious of every undercover agent we've ever sent in to try and get close to him. Stay on your guard around that man, never be alone in the Arena. Trust no one," he said the last very firmly.
Bishop scoffed, smirking, "That's easy enough for me. So… what happened to your agents?"
"Don't know," the Emperor said, "They simply vanished. Probably tied bricks to them and dumped them in Lake Rumare," he sighed, pausing for a moment as he glanced up at the stars once more, "Well then…it is getting quite late and I find myself suddenly tired. It seems conversing with you has cured my insomnia."
The Emperor turned to leave and said, "And please don't misunderstand, I really did enjoy our conversation, Bishop. I'd been looking forward to meeting you for some time now and I'm grateful that you didn't hold back your sharp tongue just because of my status. I hope you and Rona are able to find the Elder Scroll soon and I will stay in touch with Serlas and share any knowledge I have on the matter. Oh, and one last thing."
The Emperor met his gaze then and said firmly, "Do us all a courtesy and don't hold back on the bastard. Make sure he's good and dead just like you did with Torban."
Bishop just stared at the man and Emperor Titus gave him a friendly smile before retreating into the winding corridor with his personal guard at his back.
Bishop did not get as much sleep as he wanted to. Rona was already up humming to herself and noisily bustling around the kitchen throwing together breakfast and he grumbled at her from under the covers, "Don't you have a hangover? How can you be so energetic so damn early?"
She laughed and said, "Lorrie gave me the best potion for hangovers. You want some? I have a little bit left. I don't even feel sick anymore."
"Something made by that woman? I don't trust it," he growled and pulled the sheets over his head.
He felt the bed bounce as she hopped onto it and crawled over to him. She pulled the sheets back from his face and leaned over him, pursing her lips, smirking a little, "Aw...poor Bishop. You look like you got hit by a carriage. Here," she stuck the half drank bottle of potion in front of his face. "Go on," she insisted, "drink up grumpy."
He looked at her with half lidded eyes and she popped it right into his mouth. He reluctantly swallowed the rest of the strange mixture and immediately felt better. The painful feeling in his head dissipated entirely. He didn't even feel tired anymore. He held the empty bottle out and said, "Damn, that shit's good! Almost as good as Qetesh's Best."
"Right?" She said grinning, "If there's one thing Lorrie's good at, it's mixing up a damn good potion for hangovers! Her love potions could use some work though."
He chuckled and looked her up and down. She wasn't wearing her usual red dress, instead she had on a loose blue tunic and beige trousers. The same pair of necklaces she had on the night before dangled over her chest as she leaned over him and her hair was tied into a thick side braid which trailed over her shoulder.
"Mmm," he groaned and grabbed her arms, yanking her down onto his chest. She started giggling as he buried his face on the side of her neck without the braid and he said, "What's so funny?"
She smiled down at him and said, "I don't know. Just been feeling great since last night. I had sooo much fun!"
"Yeah I know," he smirked, "You lit a fire in me and I'm aching to put it out beautiful."
"No, no, no!" She said pressing a finger to his nose, "I just finished washing up! I don't want to smell like sex before we head out again."
He frowned, but then rolled over with her, so he was on top and she was laying down beneath him. He was unclothed except for his underwear and brushed his hard-on against her leg. "You'd say no to this?"
She smiled sweetly at him and just nodded, "Mmhm!"
He made a pouting face and gave her puppy dog eyes, "To this face?"
She laughed and stuck her tongue out at him. He grinned and leaned in, ready to take that tongue in his mouth when she gasped and said, "Bishop! What happened to your neck?"
He leaned back, sitting upright and the sheet fell off of him and he said, "Er... what do you mean?"
"You have a huge bruise right here," she sat up and ran her hand gently over his neck.
"Oh that," he mumbled, "Uh, got into a brawl last night. Couple of drunks wanted to keep that stupid hat real bad and I got a little throttled."
"Are you okay?" She asked and immediately ran a healing hand over the wound.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he lied. He hated lying to her but he wanted so much for her to go back to laughing and smiling again, "I just let them have the hat. Figured it wasn't worth getting choked out over."
She looked worried and he ran a hand through her hair, caressing the side of her head and said, "I promise I'm fine. At least now I am, you healed it, right?" He rubbed a hand to his neck.
She nodded, "Yeah, it's gone now," then she sighed, "Well I'm glad you're alright. But let's get going. We have to go to Roxie's family's estate right now."
"Yeah?" He asked, "What are the plans for today?"
She crawled off the bed and went back to fixing breakfast in the kitchen. "Just more wedding planning and maybe a little mischievousness too," she gave him an impish grin.
He rolled out of bed and grabbed the brown trousers off the floor, yanking them on, "What kind of mischievousness?"
"Well," she started as she opened the cupboards looking for a plate, "her aunts are all back from Anvil and they're already finding new ways to sabotage the wedding. So we're going to thwart them at every turn!"
Bishop just laughed, shaking his and pulled the white shirt on. If they were going to the estate he could check in with Richelle and see if his new armor was ready, which he was looking forward to. He was also going to talk to Magrob and see if they could come up with a plan that would allow him to spend the next week fighting in the Arena without making Rona suspicious. He had to figure something out.
Upon arriving at the estate they were immediately greeted by a very happy Karnwyr flanked by two huskies. The wolf leapt up onto both of them and gave them plenty of licks and they in turn gave him all the head scratches he wanted before he ran off again with his two new favorite friends.
They noticed that the lawn was covered in large crates and many blonde breton men and male orcs were moving them around, opening them and taking out some large poles and long rolled sheets of cloth.
"Magrob's and Roxie's relatives," Rona started explaining, "They're going to have the reception here after the wedding. Looks like they're getting all the tents, tables and chairs for it."
"Busy, busy," Bishop said. Then they spotted the girls, Roxlin, Lorrie and Charissa all standing by the front doors. Bishop noticed Rona blushing a little as Charissa glanced over at her and then quickly averted her eyes. He cleared his throat and said in hushed tones, "You two gonna talk about what happened last night? Or just pretend that never happened?"
"Ugh," Rona groaned, "I was hoping we could pretend it never happened," then she looked up at him, "Please don't attack her for it."
He snorted a laugh, "If she were a man, yeah, I definitely would have given her a piece of my mind a taste of my fist. But, nah, I'm not going to attack a woman."
She scowled at him, "What difference does it make whether she's a woman or not?"
He smirked at her, "The difference is that I kind of liked it."
Her face turned absolutely crimson and he just laughed at her. She tried to let her face cool off before the girls noticed but they were already very distracted. Roxlin was fuming, stomping around the front steps, her fists curled so that her knuckles turned white. She was grumbling loudly, "I can't stand her! I just cannot stand her! She's the absolute worst of all of them! I MEAN REALLY!? White!?" She saw Rona and barked, "Auntie Mina bought a white dress! A WHITE DRESS!"
Bishop looked at her perplexed but Rona gasped and said, "She did not!"
"It looked like champagne to me," Lorrie said gently, trying to calm her friend down.
"Champagne! Eggshell! White! What difference does it make!?" Roxlin snapped. She spun on her toe, fists clenched and burst into the manor shouting, "RICHELLE! I NEED YOUR SCISSORS! I'M CUTTING IT TO RIBBONS!"
"OH NO YOU'RE NOT!" An older woman at the top of the stairs snapped. She looked just like the rest of them, long blonde hair and a large, blooming elegant gown, face done up in makeup and covered in glittering jewelry, the only difference was that she was clearly much older and her eyes, mouth and forehead were etched with deep lines where the scowl on her face had been present most of her life. She looked extremely snobbish and just all around vile. Bishop made a mental note to avoid that particular woman like the plague.
Roxlin stormed up the stairs, practically throwing her aunt down in the process as the older woman screeched, "IT'S NOT WHITE ROXLIN! IT'S SHIMMERENE VANILLA! FROM THE SUMMERSET ISLES! IT'S VERY EXPENSIVE!"
"I DON'T CARE!"
Mimi stepped into the foyer from the sitting room, holding little Quinn in her arms and cried gently, "Roxie sweetie! Please calm down! Let's discuss this in the sitting room!"
"NO MAMA! I'VE HAD ENOUGH! MAGROB!" Roxlin shouted at the orc, making him jump, as he was passing by, "GET MY BATTLEAXE.THAT DRESS IS GOING DOWN."
She ran off down the corridor on the upper landing, her aunt chasing after her, holding her puffy dress up and then all of Roxlin's sisters and quite possibly many of her female cousins, appeared from the opposite end of upper landing, giggling and snickering as they quickly followed after them, mostly blonde hair billowing behind each of them. Another pair of blonde witches, which Bishop could only assume were the other two aunts, went screeching after them all too.
"Oh dear," Lorrie whispered, putting a hand to her cheek.
"Should we… maybe do something?" Charissa asked hesitantly as they heard more of Roxlin's furious roars from the other end of the corridor and the screeches of her aunts and all her sisters and cousins arguing.
Magrob came down the stairs looking incredibly drained and waved a hand, "Don't worry. They'll sort it out themselves."
"Oh Magrob dear," Mimi simpered, "I'm so sorry. You must be just exhausted."
He chuckled, "I'll be fine."
There was even louder shouting and the sounds of things falling, shattering and breaking and he looked back up the stairs and muttered, "I hope…"
Rona said, "I'm gonna go check on them." She quickly hurried up the stairs, Lorrie following close behind and giggling when she heard Roxlin's furious swearing, "YOU FUCKING HAGRAVENS! I'LL SPILL YOUR UGLY GUTS ALL OVER THIS GODDAMNED WHITE DRESS! SHIMMERENE VANILLA MY ASS YOU BITCH!"
Charissa seemed to be debating whether to go up to the possibly violent chaos above or stay there where Bishop was. She gave him an awkward side-eye glance and he raised his brow at her, smirking a little. She blushed and hurried up the stairs then.
Mimi was bouncing baby Quinn on her hip and said, "Could you take him for a bit Magrob? I'm going to see if I can break up the fight."
Magrob took the little one and Mimi hurried up the stairs then, clutching her dress delicately as she went and then she passed by Richelle who's hair was a mess and she muttered something to her mother who then moved at a quicker pace, heels clacking on the tile as she went.
Richelle looked down at them and said, "Oh! Bishop! Come on up, I have your armor ready. Bring Quinn, will you Magrob?"
The two of them went up and on to the opposite side of the hall, thankfully, far, far away from the shrieking catastrophe behind them. Bishop looked over at Magrob and said, "Been like this all day or…?"
"Mina just showed up with that damn dress of hers, going on and on about how she was going to wear it to the ceremony. She's doing it on purpose, trying to provoke everyone and stir up trouble, all three of her damn aunts are," he groaned, "Can't wait to get the hell out of Cyrodiil."
Bishop laughed, "And go to the dragon capital of the world?"
"I feel like dragons would be easier to handle than this," Magrob said, "At least it'd be more straightforward and you're actually allowed to kill the damn things."
Bishop and Richelle both laughed and she led them into her sewing room. Magrob plunked down on one of the sofas, still holding little Quinn who was just as bubbly and happy as ever, oblivious to all the drama in the manor. Richelle went over to one of her many wardrobes and opened a drawer, pulling out the brand new black leather armor and laid it out on the table for Bishop to look over.
He could not hide the grin on his face. It looked amazing, brand new leather, solid black, not patched up or worn anymore. It was definitely sleeker looking and she'd made a few tasteful changes to it, but otherwise it looked great.
"Well hurry up!" She said excited, "Try it on!"
He grabbed all the pieces and went around the changing divider, tearing the other borrowed clothes off and pulled on his new trousers and buckled the cuirass on. He slipped his new gloves on and looked himself over in the floor length mirror. It was a little snug in places, but otherwise fit perfectly. With the new clothes including the pair of boots he'd gotten over a month before, all enchanted now, he was really feeling at the top of his game.
He came back around the divider and Richelle clapped, "Amazing! How's it fit?"
"Perfect," he said still grinning, "This is great. Thank you."
"You are very welcome. Should be able to withstand incredible amounts of heat and freezing cold easily now too," she winked.
Magrob was bouncing the baby on his knee and smirked at Bishop, "Looking like a mighty fine ranger, Bish."
"Hey," Bishop said, "Now that I've got you here alone, can I talk to you a minute?"
Magrob raised his brows. "Still need some help with your… problem?" He hesitated glancing at Richelle.
"It's fine if she knows," Bishop said, "In fact, I could seriously use your help too Richelle. I hope it's not too much trouble."
She went over and took her baby boy from Magrob and propped him up on her hip and said, "Sure. What do you need help with?"
Bishop started going into details then, telling them both everything that was going on. He told them all about his family out on the Waterfront and what his brother was doing to them, especially to his sister. Richelle looked appalled and Magrob seemed to be getting angrier by the second, looking ready to go and kill Ost himself. Bishop even told him how he met the Emperor the night before and everything the man had relayed to him about the inner workings of the Arena and its shady proprietor.
"I have to do this," Bishop said seriously, "And not just for the money, but for my family."
"What in the world do you need that much money for?" Richelle asked.
Bishop glanced at her and said, "Can you keep a secret? You can't tell anyone, least of all your sisters." She nodded and Bishop said smiling to himself, "I'm having an engagement ring made."
Richelle's eyes lit up and she got the widest smile on her face and squealed, "You're going to propose!?"
"I am," Bishop chuckled, "That's why I need the money, for this amazing stone and for the whole ring really, since my brother stole all my gold and everything."
Richelle was practically hopping up and down and he reiterated, "You can't tell anyone!"
"I know! I know!" She sighed trying to calm down.
Bishop took a seat on one of the couches, elbows to his knees and hands clasped together, as he leaned forward he said, "I really need you all to keep her busy while I do this. I can't tell her. I don't want her to worry or stress over it. She needs this time away from her own problems and I don't want to dump my own on her shoulders."
"I hear yah," Magrob said, "In fact, I'm thinking this will give us both an opportunity to get away from the insanity here." Bishop smirked at him and the orc said, "I've got your back on this. We'll just tell them we're working on a surprise or something. You're going to have to play a lot of catch up though Bish, because the event started two days ago and the contenders are already way ahead of you."
Magrob stood up then and Bishop followed suit. Richelle promised to cover for them as they both left the estate and made their way to the Arena on the opposite end of city to the southeast. They headed for the Imperial Palace first so that Bishop could collect his weapons.
"You're allowed whatever weapon you choose," Magrob said as they rounded the enormous central tower, "What are you planning to use?"
"My dual blades," Bishop said.
"Yeah?" Magrob looked curious, "You good at wielding two blades? Rona taught you?"
Bishop frowned, "I'm okay with it. Haven't gotten used to using the one in the left very well."
Magrob stroked at the patch of hair on his chin and said thoughtfully, "I'd recommend going with one sword and a shield then."
Bishop frowned. He'd always considered shield users to be like paladins. And the last thing he wanted was to be anything like Casavir. Still, he wasn't very good with the second blade and he trusted Magrob's advice. It would probably be better to go with the extra protection and then he could focus his skill with his good arm.
He collected his brother's blade then, forgoing Brandr's sword. He thought of Kodlak and knew he would have disapproved of him seeking retribution in that way. Brandr's sword was one that should be wielded for honor and glory... But Jules' sword, that blade had already been used to exact vengeance once before against their father. It was a union of strong and powerful materials. One half lustrous biting bone, the other sharp and deadly steel, it was made to kill and he would do just that with it.
He took his weapon and the two of them continued on to the Arena District. Upon entering that part of the city they were greeted by the sight of an enormous Coliseum, a huge, round stone building centered right in the middle of the district. Posters showing all of the main events and attractions lined the walls of the building and warriors and battle mages of all kinds were coming and going from the enormous metal gates in front.
Bishop stopped and looked at one of the posters near the entryway and asked, "What's this?"
They both looked over the poster which was painted with the image of a gladiator facing off against an enormous beast that was shaded over in black. It wasn't discernable what it was exactly but it was depicted as being incredibly huge with terrifying red eyes. Underneath the image were the words:
BATTLE OF LEGENDS
GRAND CHAMPION VS THE BEAST
100,000 SEPTIM PRIZE
"You don't know?" Magrob asked. Bishop just shook his head and Magrob said, "The Grand Champion is supposed to face off against some unknown beast at the end of it all."
"What is it?" Bishop asked, "A frost troll or an ogre or something?"
"No one knows," Magrob said, "But the stands will definitely be packed that night."
"So not only do I have to kill my own brother, I have to fight some mystery monster just to get the gold?"
"Looks like it," Magrob said then he started to head in and Bishop followed.
"Ever fought here before?"
"A few times," Magrob said, "Got bored with it when I wasn't allowed to finish off the contenders though. It used to be fights to the death, but the Elder Council banned that after the Great War, only making exceptions for the final matches. Guess we lost too many men to the pit and didn't have enough to defend the city from the Dominion."
"So if I can't kill them, how the hell am I supposed to win?"
Magrob smirked at him, "Mortally wound 'em."
"Pft, so they can die in the infirmary instead?"
"That's the idea," Magrob said poignantly, "The rules say you can't outright kill them in the pit, but they never said anything about them dying from wounds after the match."
They entered into a lower chamber where plenty of contenders were hard at work practicing their swordsmanship and marksmanship on training dummies and targets. The place smelled like blood and feces and he noticed the foul mixture of just those things draining down the walls into grates on the ground.
"Welcome to the Bloodworks my friend," Magrob said as he started looking around and seemed to eye the person they were looking for.
A really rough looking Imperial man stood by in heavy steel plated armor, looking over all the combatants with a fierce scowl etched deeply into his face. He had short cut dark grey hair and enough slash marks across the right side of his face that it looked like a sabre cat had slashed him three times over in crisscrossing patterns. The scars traveled all the way across his right eye, down his lightly stubbled cheek and over his lips. The eye itself was a pale white, clearly having lost his sight from whatever attacked him.
He looked to be in his mid fifties and despite his age was still very fit and muscular, although quite lean. The man paced around the room, clicking along the floor in his steel-toed boots while his short red cape swept behind him. He barked at a few of the men, criticizing their form and giving them instructions, insulting them with racial slurs and other degrading epithets as he did so.
The second he saw Magrob his scowl only seemed to deepen and his lip curled when he spoke in a deep voice, "Well if it isn't the pig that ran away. You trying to come back and rejoin Bashurn? Because I won't take you back. I never take back deserters."
Magrob just snorted a laugh and smirked at the disgruntled man, "Not looking to come back Jedrek, just bringing a friend who's interested in getting his blade dirty."
He nodded to Bishop and the Imperial sniffed and looked him up and down then barked, "Too skinny."
Bishop scoffed and looked down at his own barrel of a chest and thick arms. He raised a brow at the man and said, "Got something against nords, Imperial?"
Jedrek's scowl deepened and he crossed his arms, "Damn right I do. Filthy snow-backs are all a bunch of hot-headed idiots, s'what keeps them so warm in that frigid asscrack they call home. I'd hardly call you a nord though, skinny as you are. Should eat more snow-bear or whatever the fuck it is you all feast on when you're not busy getting piss-ass drunk and singing prissy little lullabies around a dirty hearth like a bunch of fat-titted tavern wenches."
Bishop felt the vein in his head pulsing very hard and his eye twitching furiously. His blood was starting to boil at the racist bile this Imperial was spewing at him and Magrob quickly put a hand to his shoulder and looked at him reassuringly, "Should hear what he has to say about the Imperials before you lose your temper."
Jedrek spit on the ground, "So you want to be a combatant, huh? Fancy getting your entrails all over my Red Room?"
"I thought these weren't fights to the death," Bishop said.
"Never stopped anyone from spilling someone else's guts all over the walls here in the Bloodworks. Just keep 'em alive long enough to die in the infirmary and I won't have to disqualify or expel you."
The man turned away and started heading towards a hall leading to another room and he glanced back and barked, "You coming, Pit Dog, or not?"
"Wait, so you're letting me join?" Bishop was more confused than ever. He couldn't tell if this Imperial was just fucking with his head or what but when the man snapped, "I don't have all day. Need to get you armored up and see how your sword arm is. So hurry the fuck up shitstain or leave and quit wasting my time."
Jedrek continued on through the corridor and Bishop just looked over at Magrob and gaped at him. Magrob laughed and said, "Yeah, he's a real surly one. Don't let it get to you. I'll be up in the stands waiting for your fight, good luck out there Bish."
Bishop followed along after the angry Imperial and into an armory. The walls were lined with weapons of all kinds and in the center of the room were three piles of armor, all beaten and battered to shit and covered in blood.
"Heavy or light?" Jedrek asked him.
"I can't just wear this?" He motioned to his own clothes.
Jedrek looked him up and down, "What? You want to dirty up your pretty little leathers instead?"
Bishop just looked at him with half-lidded eyes. Of course he'd think he was some fancy noble type wearing the brand new leather armor Richelle finished for him. But Jedrek just shook his head, scrunching his nose, "No. You wear the fucking armor we give you Pit Dog. Now, heavy or light?"
"Light," Bishop said.
Jedrek went to the pile in the middle and yanked out some dirty, rusted and bloody steel plated armor and tossed it to him. Bishop glanced around for a changing divider and Jedrek crossed his arms and barked again, "Gonna stand around all day looking for some privacy? No, get changed now. No time to waste on shame when you need to try on pieces 'til you get the right fit."
Bishop exhaled exasperated with this man and his nasty attitude, but quickly undressed down to his underwear and folded up and set aside his nice clothes on a table and pulled on the cloth trousers and tunic before he started tying on the light steel plated armor, snapping the grieves to his legs and the spaulders for his arms. He tried getting the steel cuirass on but it was too small so he tossed it back in the pile and grabbed one from the last pile, assuming it must have been the set of large gear. That one fit him better.
"All done then?" Jedrek asked impatiently.
"Need a shield," Bishop said.
Jedrek nodded to the back wall where all the shields were displayed. Bishop went over and selected a smaller round one. He never did like anything too bulky that would encumber him.
Once he'd finished Jedrek was already on the move again, leading him back into the Bloodworks. Bishop just followed not knowing what was next. He was utterly surprised when they arrived at a large gate which no doubt led out to the Arena. The gate suddenly creaked open and Bishop looked out. There wasn't really anyone there in the stands. A few folks had turned out, but they just looked like other combatants waiting for their turns or taking a break.
"Gods you're slow," Jedrek snarled, "Get on out there already maggot. What? You want me to hold your hand?"
Bishop glared at the man but turned away and stepped out into the arena. The other contender's gate was just rising as well. This was it. He was ready. He'd fight until he couldn't fight anymore and do it all again for the next five days until he was finally face to face with the piece of shit that had no right to call him brother.