Ariadne was a small Redguard with big ambitions. Her physical prowess was a point of scorn amongst the people of her homeland of Hammerfell. But what she lacked in muscle, she made up for in wits.

Ariadne was, of course, an adopted name. She was born as D'uksha, but after she fled Hammerfell she took on a new name to assimilate into an Imperial upbringing. The majority of her childhood had been spent escaping political intrigue in Hammerfell. She picked her way from the border and inwards to the Imperial City, and it was the Imperial City that she'd spent the last twenty years of her life and had found herself employed as a logistician.

She brushed her hair from her eyes and nervously scratched the scar that had been given to her by pirates in her youth. By this point it was habit, and a blatant giveaway to when she was uncomfortable.

"It just doesn't make any sense..." She muttered to herself.

In her hands she held the manifest detailing the export of various goods to the province of Skyrim. It was no secret amongst those who worked under the crown and some of the nobler houses of Cyrodiil that Whiterun had been taken by a scarily organised group of bandits. It was also a matter of concern that said bandits had also made a move on Falkreath, and had - presumably - won. The fact that they held some very influential figures hostage was hardly original, but it worked to hold off the forces of the Empire. The forces of the Imperial Legion were spread thin enough as it was. Trouble in the south had captured most of their attention, but with this new bandit king making a home of Skyrim the Emperor was forced to bolster defences at the border, as well as close it and halt the export of goods.

It was a controversial and unfair call. Halting the export of goods would be punishing the good people of Skyrim who - Ariadne had no doubt - were living in a state of fear, wondering if their city would be the next to fall under this cruel regime. The Emperor, however, stood by his word. Imperial traders would no longer be allowed to cross the border. It would have a resounding impact on the economy, but the trade-off was that this kingdom of brigands wouldn't have the means to expand their own resources. A lot of central Skyrim was farmland, but, according to the Emperor, bandits didn't attend to farms. The only people who crossed the border now were smugglers and Khajiit caravans.

But this... this just didn't make any sense at all.

Ariadne read and re-read the manifest in her hand, trying to determine any contingencies or mistakes. But there were none.

A small fleet would depart Anvil carrying cargo that included, but was not limited to, food, furs, and weaponry, and would make a six-week journey out to sea, following the coastlines of Hammerfell and High Rock, before eventually making port at Dawnstar on the north coast of Skyrim. Approved and funded by the Aldmeri Dominion, in the hopes of aiding the citizens of Skyrim.

It couldn't be right. If the civil war had proven anything, it was that the Nords would rather die than bend the knee, much less accept aid from the High Elves. Surely the Dominion knew this, and yet the shipment was still approved and funded? Taking into consideration that the Emperor himself banned the export of goods...

"It just doesn't make any sense!" Ariadne said again.

"What doesn't?" Carter was leaning over her shoulder.

Ariadne almost jumped out of her skin. "By the Nine, Carter! How long have you been standing there?"

"By the Eight," Carter corrected. "And I just arrived. I had some paperwork that I had to drop off."

Ariadne rolled her eyes. "Carter, read this," she handed him the manifest. "Does it some kind of... obscure to you?"

Carter read. She tried to follow his thought process, but the Imperial man was a closed book.

"Well?"

He shrugged and handed back the manifest. "It was approved and paid for by the Aldmeri Dominion. I don't understand what your problem is."

Ariadne was flabbergasted. "Please tell me you're joking," she said bluntly. "Don't you know what the Emperor would feel about this?"

"I'm well aware," Carter responded. "But there's really nothing he can do. The Aldmeri Dominion really cut out the middle man by allowing this in the first place. Since this shipment is technically Dominion business - disconnected from the Empire - they're well within their rights and power to do this."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Carter had a point, she admitted, but this shipment just didn't feel right. "Doesn't it seem weird that the High Elves would be sending assistance to the Nords?"

Carter shrugged. "I suppose. But we won the civil war. Skyrim is still part of the Empire, so I guess the Dominion feel obliged to assist the provinces within the fold of it."

"You're just content with being bullied into submission, aren't you Carter?" Ariadne scoffed.

Carter scowled. "When the Emperor signed that concordant he saved us. The Dominion are a help, not a hindrance, and I don't make that opinion a secret. What they're doing here," he gestured to the manifest, "seems to be in the same vein to me. Maybe if the Nords got over their pig-headedness and their blind patriotism than they'd see that."

Ariadne just glared at the man as she gathered what little possessions she had at her desk. "I need to take this to someone."

"Who?" Carter said snidely. "Even if the Emperor himself chose to stop the shipment, I doubt his fastest man would get to Anvil in time to stop it."

Ariadne cursed. Carter was right.

"Well I'm taking it somewhere." She said with finality.

"Like?"

"Somewhere!" Ariadne forced. In a huff, she spun on her heel and left, sheets and objects clutched to her chest loosely.

Carter watched her go, head shaking slowly. "That woman..."