Windhelm outskirts, sundown…
The band of not so merry lycans drug their boots through the deepening snow after their violent battle with two draconian terrors. Having devoured the souls, Nero felt rather upbeat opposed to his companions who were looking rather battle worn. Nero's blood still ran hot from the battle as the ancient city of stone loomed in the distance.
"So… What just happened?" Aurora asked, rolling her scythe over her shoulders. "I mean… That Dragonborn nonsense can't be true, can it?"
"Did you not just see him practically eat the souls of those damn lizards?" Teiren huffed, crossing his arms. "Nero, always getting the best of everything…"
"That's a fucking lie and you know it." Nero said flatly, casting a glare over his shoulder. "Says the damn ARCH BISHOP of Leyawiin."
"At least I don't reside in the backwaters of a doomed kingdom." Teiren said under his breath.
"All of Tamriel is doomed. I'm just trying to make it a bit more tolerable." Nero chuckled, pulling his hood over his head. "Unlike a certain blond I know who does nothing with his close ties to the Emperor, aside from squander his influence on wine and night stalkers… Disgusting."
"I… Don't have a response to that." Teiren replied, looking at his feet.
"Good. You walk much faster without your mouth open." Nero sneered, narrowing his eyes as the snowy path turned to stone.
The group crossed the bridge, feeling all the eyes of the guards land on them as they passed. The doors to the city lurched open with a groan, revealing the bleakness that was Windhelm. Nero lead the group through the shambles that remained of the market and into the residential district to the last manor on the left. As they approached, Nero gave the silent order to hold as he spied someone going in the house.
"Who was that?" Fenrir whispered, adjusting his hood. "One of the stewards?"
"Both stewards here are Argonian… That was a Redguard." Nero muttered.
"How can they let Argonians in the city?" Faust asked, peering around Nero. "Aren't they forbidden?"
"Windhelm is under the impression that I own them, so they allow them in the city." Nero answered, his blank expression twisting into a scowl. "Something isn't right. Stay on your toes."
With no instruction, the twins split, going to opposing sides of the building and scaling the walls. Nero motioned to the girls to keep watch outside as he and Teiren approached the door. Putting an ear to the wood, his eyes narrowed as he heard multiple voices from beyond the door, and none of them sounded too happy. Nero's eyes rolled as he stepped back putting a finger to his chin as he thought. A light snow began to fall as the sun was setting, the shadows of the massive walls drowning the district.
Turning to Teiren, Nero gave the sign for silence as he slipped around the corner, following behind Faust. In a moment, he was up the wall and in the window to the master bedroom, putting his back to the wall and closing the window. Creeping to the hallway, he found Faust and Fenrir standing on the molding of the wall over the stairs, listening intently to the conversation below.
"Maybe we have the wrong house?" A woman asked.
"Impossible. My informant is never wrong. He was here recently. How else would there be these signs of life?" Another female voice said.
"There were those two Argonians…" A man said. "But they're tied up upstairs."
Nero's eyes shot open as the words hit his ears, silently rolling to the bedroom on the far side of the hall. Peeking around the corner, he found his Stewards bound and beaten. Sliding across the floor, the lycan drew a dagger from his belt and slashed the restraints, leaving their tied snouts clamped for the moment. As they two lizards came around, Nero put his hands to their lips, shaking his head. As they realized who he was, they eased slightly, quietly getting to their feet.
Pulling the wraps from their jaws, Nero motioned for them to follow.
"But the boss said she wants that guy out of the way, and we can't really do that if we don't know where he is…" The male trailed off. "Honestly, I don't even know what he looks like!"
"DeSade? He's a giant man with short legs, carries a huge weapon, and has a Mohawk!" One of the woman said.
"No, he's a blond man who wears a red coat and has a huge weapon!" The other woman replied, stomping her foot.
Nero pinched the space between his eyes and shook his head as his stewards look at each other confused. Nero crept back to the staircase, staying low enough that no one could see from down below. He locked eyes with the twins and nodded his head with a smirk, giving the sign to attack. The two smiled grimly as they stepped from the ledge, their black cloaks billowing with the movement as the twins rebounded off the stairs, launching themselves at the two women below. A startled scream split the air as Fenrir tackled his target to the floor, pinning her arms to the boards with his knees as Faust drilled his target into the wall, knocking her out as a few dishes fell from their shelves, shattering on the floor. As the remaining man lunged at Fenrir, Nero exploded from the staircase, delivering a vicious dropkick between the human's shoulder blades, sending his target headfirst into a support beam. The house shook as the impact cracked the support, the man falling to the floor in a heap with a thud.
A chuckle escaped Nero's lips as he walked over to Fenrir's prey, grabbing her by the throat and pulling her out from under the twin.
"Good evening." Nero sneered, forcing a gasp out of the Imperial woman as his grip tightened. "It is now time for my favorite game! What in the name of Hircine are you doing in my house!"
Before the woman had time to respond, she was flipped onto the table, sending plates and goblets to the floor. As she tried to sit up, she felt the cold steel of Nero's dagger to her throat. Her eyes widened in shock as she felt the metal press harder against her skin.
"Boys, it's safe to come down now." He shouted up to his stewards. "And now we get to find out what you're doing here."
"What's it to you?!" The woman said shouted, trying not to struggle.
"Maybe the fact that you and your friends have broken a few laws: Trespassing, kidnapping, torture, I'm sure there is some theft in there somewhere." Nero grinned, rolling the blade over the woman's throat. "Now, this is the last time I'll ask, who are you, and why are you in my house?"
The woman smirked and spit in Nero's face, hitting him squarely in the eye. In a flash, the dagger was removed, only to be replaced by a massive armored backhand from the lycan, hitting the woman off the table with a crack. He walked over to the Imperial writhing in pain and firmly put his boot on her chest, casting an eerie glare down upon her.
"Wrong answer." Nero growled, slowly shifting his weight to apply more pressure.
"Ok!" The woman gasped, flailing her limbs wildly from the impending lack of air. "We work for Whiterun! We were sent to stop you from going ahead with your plan!"
"And they sent you three idiots?" Fenrir laughed, binding the two other mercenaries to the damaged support pole.
"Balgruuf sent sell-swords all over Skyrim to look for you. Your plan will never work." The woman coughed, clawing at Nero's leg.
"If the rest are as idiotic as you three, I don't have anything to fear." Nero chuckled, pulling off his hood. "Now, how did you find out about this place? And why did you assault my poor stewards?"
"We were told by the Ulfric's assistant that you lived here, so we took over and have been waiting for you to show up."
"And if I didn't? Where you just going to let those two die up there?" Nero growled, leaning a bit more heavily on the woman.
"Yes…" The Imperial replied, finding herself woefully disadvantaged.
"This." Nero snarled. "This is why we can't have nice things. Ugly and pig headed sell-swords starving people with incorrect information. I should use your corpse as a decoration for my entryway!"
Teiren and the girls rushed in as Nero's verbal assault continued, Gerda attending to the injured Argonians and Aurora prodding the other now captives for information. Their inquiries didn't collect as much as they had hoped, but it was a start. The woman wasn't lying about what the Jarl of Whiterun had done, but Nero had a feeling it was mostly due to the loose ends he had left in the central city. Binding the woman with the others, the group settled in as Nero made preparations to meet with Ulfric. If the rumors were true, he was a stubborn man with no equal. From what Nero saw at Helgen, he was less than impressed with the leader of the Stormcloak rebellion.
The black scaled Argonian, Iron-Jaws, exacted a bit of revenge on his former oppressors by stuffing their mouths with dirty rags to keep them quiet while his blue and white brethren, Poisoned-Streams, tightened their restraints to the point of near vascular suffocation. As they tried to help Gerda make dinner, they were shoo'd to the table.
"How did this happen?" Nero asked, cocking an eyebrow at Iron-Jaws, the bigger of the two.
"They broke in while we were out…" He sighed, slapping the leader of the intruders across the face with his tail. "They hid in our room and ambushed us when we were getting ready for bed."
"The ugly one was hiding in the wardrobe, gave us such a scare we couldn't react in time." Poisoned-Streams replied, shaking his head as he drummed his claws on the table. "That was two days ago…"
"Hmmm…" Nero pondered, stroking his chin. "Interesting… Did they beat any information out of you?"
"No master… We know better." Iron-Jaws hissed.
"For the love of Azura stop calling me Master… You're not my slaves, you're my family's stewards, thus, part of the family." Nero laughed, snagging a bottle of mead off the table. "When all of this blows over, I'll do something nice for you."
"Oh there is no need for-"
"Take him up on it!" Gerda called from the cooking pot. "He doesn't do many nice things for anyone!"
Downing the mead, Nero smirked as he headed upstairs to change, leaving the rest of the group to converse while dinner was being prepared.
Windstead Manor, Morthal outskirts, late evening…
Rurik and Maksim approached the fog covered steading, seeing the remnants of a battle everywhere, most noticeably, the path of solid, unmelting ice with the corpses of two Orcs frozen stiff.
"Uhh…" Rurik mumbled, sliding off his mask. "What do you suppose this is?"
"Not the slightest idea…" Maksim replied, scratching his head. "Let's see if anyone is alive in there."
Heading to the door, Rurik pulled back on his brother's cloak. Pointing down, Maksim's eyes widened as he saw that he almost stepped on a magickal rune, and a nasty looking one at that. Stepping around the trap, they reached the door and knocked, waiting to hear any movement from inside. A few moments passed, and the door creaked open to reveal a very tired looking Maryk.
"What are you two doing here?" The Imperial asked, sounding exhausted.
"We got a little distracted, so we figured we'd swing by…" Rurik said, crossing his arms. "Everything alright? Aside from the ice sculpture…"
"Hmm? Oh, that." Maryk chuckled. "Yeah, we're good. Just had some raiders. Nothing I can't handle."
"I see…" Maksim replied, peering around the human. "Is someone else here?"
"Vega is, but he's asleep currently." Maryk answered, opening the door. "Well don't stand outside all night, come on in."
Entering the shabby manor, the twins looked around, wincing at the shape the place was in. Maryk went on to explain the events of the last few days to the lycans, and his sad situation in the swamps. His partner steward had vanished, leaving all the upkeep of the manor to him, but not much could be done with the small amount of money he had to work with.
"Sounds rough." Maksim commented, leaning back in his chair. "But this always was considered the 'last resort', as it were."
"I'll be fine as soon as we all switch for winter." Maryk said, shaking his head. "Then those poor girls in Solitude will have to deal with this mess."
"Have you brought this up to Nero?" Rurik asked, slightly concerned.
"I haven't seen him in… Almost a year, and the couriers can never seem to find him." Maryk sighed.
"He is a hard person to locate… But it's out of need for the moment. Things are going to get interesting." Rurik said, leaning on the table.
"Vega filled me in. Should be fun if everything works out."
The trio talked a bit more before retiring for the night, the twins setting up sleeping mats in the storage room as Maryk slinked off to the second bedroom upstairs. A peaceful quiet fell over the home and the night passed without incident.
Back in Windhelm…
The gloomy morning found Ulfric Stormcloak, leader of the Stormcloak rebellion Jarl of Windhelm flooded with reports of the ongoing hostilities around Skyrim. Skirmishes roared across the province almost constantly, with the balance of power not swaying to either side. The conflict was weighing heavily on both sides, draining resources and morale across the board.
In the logistical chaos that was The Palace of The Kings, a lone courier slipped in, holding a letter addressed to Ulfric.
"I have a letter for the Jarl." The man said to no one in particular.
"Give it here…" The Jarl answered, his voice cutting through the dull roar of the surroundings.
Glad for a momentary distraction, Ulfric snatched the letter and began to read, his eyes narrowing as the words were read.
"Ulfric Stormcloak, I, Nero DeSade, require a meeting with you, seeing as you have been so rude as to ignore my last correspondence. I shall arrive at the Nightgate Inn at sundown today, and expect you to appear no later than nine this evening. You may bring your housecarl and one guard. We will speak on the dock overlooking the lake on the premises. See you there. –N"
In a huff, Ulfric crumpled the letter in his palm, sighing heavily as his eyes locked on Galmar Stone-Fist.
"What is it?" The hulking Nord asked, tilting his head.
"The Dragonborn…" Ulfric grumbled, pushing himself to his feet. "Follow me."
Galmar nodded silently, following his leader to his chambers. Ulfric's steps fell heavily on the stone floor on the way to his room.
"Is this the same person who sent those ridiculous demands?" Stone-Fist asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why is this even an issue?"
"Under normal circumstances it wouldn't be… But this Dragonborn business annoys me…" Ulfric replied, pulling at his beard in annoyance. "In this odd era, nothing is really 'normal'."
"Is this person a threat?"
"Possibly… Those old men of the mountain could have a hand in this."
"Such as? I thought the Gray Beards had no interest in the affairs of those down here."
"They don't, but the Dragonborn appearing could have swayed them."
"And what does this person want with you now?"
"A meeting, outside of the city. With his previous threats, I think it would be best to meet him."
"What could he possibly want to meet about?"
"He was calling for peace before… I doubt he will switch his stance."
"But how will giving up our fight bring peace? And I doubt the Empire will just go back to the capital. Their roots run deep here."
"I am well aware, and I intend to get to the bottom of this who ordeal, and then get back to our real problems at hand. Summon Free-Winter, we leave after lunch. Wouldn't want to keep the Dragonborn waiting…"
"Understood. Let it be known I think this is a bad idea."
"I don't think it's a good idea either, but with this out of the way, we can focus our attention more easily. Now go…"
Windhelm outskirts, that afternoon…
The black carriage owned by Teiren rumbled east, toward the sleepy inn known as Nightgate. The grim overcast of the morning had broken to a perfect blue sky along their path as a light but chilled breeze pushed the group along. The girls and Teiren were asleep inside while Nero and the twins followed alongside on foot. Despite the events in motion, everyone was mostly at ease and in a decent mood. The driver attempted to make small talk, but his efforts were struck down by Nero's silence.
"Let's hope this trip brings us closer to our goal." Faust said, hanging off the side of the carriage. "I don't like wasting all this time."
"If the Jarl decides to actually show up… You know Nero won't make it easy for him if he doesn't." Fenrir replied, spinning his dagger between his fingers. "I would rather not have to spill anymore Stormcloak blood, I don't really mind them."
"I'd rather deal with them opposed to the Empire." Faust said, climbing to the roof of the carriage. "But I think we'll have more problems after the initial assault, mainly from those Thalmor things."
The mountain road quickly turned into a forested path as the carriage moved into the shadow of the woods as the daylight started to fade into late afternoon. The freshly fallen snow muffled the sounds of the group as they pressed through the forest toward the inn. Nero had hardly said a word most of the trek, staying in the shadows of his cloak.
The Nightgate Inn sat on a small ridge overlooking a mountain lake. As the group approached, the area was gripped in an unnatural silence, putting everyone awake on edge. Nero's eyes narrowed under his hood as he scanned the surroundings.
"You think he will show up?" Faust asked, looking down on Nero.
"It's not so much him I am worried about..." Nero replied, adjusting his clothing. "If those people we found in Windhelm aren't lying, there are people looking for me…"
"With bad intel." Faust chuckled, hopping down from the roof. "Driver, hide the carriage and get everyone inside. I've got a funny feeling about this…"
"You too?" Fenrir smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I would have preferred a different venue."
"One hundred Septims says he surrounds the place with archers and we all get stuck with countless arrows." Faust said, peering into the darkening woods.
"Two hundred says he tries to kill Nero!" Fenrir replied, cocking an eyebrow. "And that one of the girls snaps."
Nero let out a sinister laugh as he kept listening in on his brother's conversation.
"Don't revel in my death just yet." The lycan said, whipping off his cloak. "Now stop jabbering, we may technically be out of Eastmarch, but Ulfric is still king of the east."
"And you don't get too high on your ego, brother." Faust grinned, making for the building. "Let's unpack."
The group piled into the inn, giving the Innkeeper a shock. Nero paid the fees for the rooms, and vanished into one of them, locking the door behind him. The rest doubled up, with the blond disaster Teiren residing in his carriage. After everyone was settled, they reconvened in the main hall, taking the tables against the wall, much to the dismay of seemingly the only patron. The Nord retreated to the opposite side of the inn, grumbling all the while.
Late afternoon turned into night as the group finished dinner and began to prepare for the looming meeting with Ulfric. The twins swept the area, finding nothing out of the ordinary while Gerda and Teiren set multiple runes of varying effect and power throughout the woods. The woods were eerily still as everyone took up their positions with the appointed hour growing near.
Nero leaned on the supports of the covered pier, fiddling with his jet black leather armor under his shadowy cloak. The lycan's eyes glowed faintly in the darkness as he heard unfamiliar footsteps approaching. Nero turned toward the sounds, a slight smirk crossing his lips in the shadows of his hood. Remaining in his relaxed posture as the three men stepped onto the dock, Nero crossed his arms over his chest, sizing up the men before him.
"Are you Nero DeSade?" Galmar asked, shifting his weight from side to side.
"Possibly. If one of you is Ulfric Stormcloak." Nero replied, his tone of voice sending a chill down everyone's spine. "And it's rather rude to demand names without first introducing yourself…"
"I am Galmar Stone-Fist, and this is Brunwulf Free-Winter." Galmar said, looking over Nero in his cloak. "And this is the Jarl of Windhelm, Ulfric Stormcloak."
"So nice of you to actually make an appearance…" Nero chuckled, pushing himself off the beam. "But enough introductions, let's get down to business shall we?"
"I couldn't agree more." Ulfric replied, narrowing his eyes in the darkness. "Are you not brave enough to show your face?"
"You've already seen my face, during the attack at Helgen, due to be executed right before you were." Nero replied, rolling his neck with a crunch. "My name is more than enough for your men to know about."
"I find that cowardly." Galmar interjected.
"This meeting is not about you, Stone-Fist." Nero said. "It's about the future of this land that you and your men are putting in jeopardy."
"So why not join us and make a difference?" Ulfric questioned, stroking his beard.
"Because your ideals and convictions are severely misplaced. Your war of attrition rages on, claiming more lives every day, all the while dragging the name of Skyrim through the mud."
"And just how are doing that?" Ulfric asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Your little rebellion is once again painting Nords as nothing but barbarians. Border towns in surrounding provinces have essentially turned into ghost towns due to fears of Nordic Invasion. The empire has imposed sanctions on trade, vicious rumors of slavery and trafficking run rampant… Truly distasteful. And it's all because of you and your child-like attempt at rebellion." Nero commented, shaking his head.
"Those are some harsh words, but everything that is happening is needed to cleanse the land and give it back to her rightful people. I am fighting for the people because they cannot fight for themselves." Ulfric muttered, now glaring at his naysayer.
"And what do you intend to do? Be the king of Skyrim? Turn everything into the husk you call Windhelm? I can't allow that to happen." Nero sneered, trying to control his tone. "And how do you intend to dispose of the Thalmor? They aren't as easily swayed as Torygg, but I guess his death did set our meeting in motion."
"You words annoy me Mr. DeSade." Ulfric growled. "And what good will come of throwing down our weapons?"
"A reason for the Empire leave us all alone, and for those repulsive Thalmor to go away as well."
"Your reasons make no sense, that would only leave us utterly defenseless, especially against those damn elves."
"I've given the same demands to the Imperials… But they are being just as obstinate as you are."
"With good reason. These 'demands' are almost offensive. And I feel very offended that you would think I would put my land in danger."
"Hmph… Your land. Your people. Your actions make you look like the northern beast the rest of Tamriel has come to know of us Nords, without any regard for this honor you speak so highly of. You and your war are bleeding Skyrim dry, and I refuse to let my home become the charred shell that Morrowind now is. Or the festering pit that is Cyrodiil. I will not allow it."
"And just what exactly is your plan if mine is no good?"
"Separate, yet unified. We shall be one nation, but not under the banner of the Empire. The holds will, as they have been, govern themselves, and we will work together to keep the rotting Empire out of our lands."
Ulfric shook his head, unable to believe the words he was hearing. His ideology had never been questioned by anyone other than the Imperials, and it put the man on edge. Nero's words did not give many hints as to his plan, other than it being an almost perfect copy of Ulfric's own machinations. The man tapped his chin, feigning a ponderous look as he already knew his plan.
"I will not agree with your ridiculous demands. Any further actions against the Stormcloaks by you will be considered treasonous and you will be executed." Ulfric said flatly.
"Such a pity you can't see things my way…" Nero sighed, once again leaning on the support beam. "But both you and the Empire will soon enough."
"That sounds like a threat against me." Ulfric chuckled.
"I don't make threats," Nero replied, his voice darkening the mood. "You will know pain."
Putting his fingers to his lips, Nero split the air with an ear piercing whistle, causing the multiple runes scattered in the forest to detonate. Screams of agony erupted from the woods, causing Nero to smile terribly under his hood.
"I see you disregarded my orders…" the lycan trailed off, popping his knuckles. "But I don't entirely blame you."
"How could you have possibly known?!" Galmar stammered, pulling the battleaxe off his back.
"I feel almost offended that you would underestimate me!" Nero laughed, backing up to the end of the dock. "But I know all about how this little rebellion works."
In a blur, Brunwulf and Galmar were taken out, tackled into the frigid waters of the lake by Faust and Fenrir. In a growing rage, Ulfric drew the sword from his hip, pointing it at the lycan.
"You are the one who will know pain!" The Jarl shouted lunging at DeSade.
A grim smile washed over Nero's face as he shifted to the right, the blade slashing through his cloak. He suppressed a chuckle as he spun behind the Jarl, putting him in an offensive sleeper hold as he dropped to his knees, abruptly butting off Ulfric's air supply.
"It is far too bad killing you would end all of my fun…" Nero growled, breathing heavily in Ulfric's ear. "Terror is such a nice expression to witness firsthand."
The suffocating hold lasted another few seconds before Nero dropped his prey on the dock gasping for breath as Ulfric's soldiers in the woods continued to scream in pain. The surroundings flashed with a vile light as Teiren ended the soldier's suffering with a malicious spell, forcing one last groan of agony into the air, making the Jarl of Windhelm cringe terribly.
"If you think I'm still bluffing, you are sadly mistaken." Nero grinned, snatching Ulfric's blade from the dock. "But I doubt with the show you just put on you'll submit."
"That is correct." Ulfric coughed, trying to get to his feet.
Nero shook his head as he dropped the blade over his shoulders, rolling his eyes at the human's words as he began to pace circles around him. At present, there was nothing he could say to change the Jarl's mind, and nothing to ease the suffering the Stormcloaks would suffer at his hands. At the end, Nero would look like a demon in the eyes of the people, but his efforts would be for the greater good.
"Have it your way…" Nero growled, turning his back to Ulfric. "Then you, Tullius, and all of Skyrim will know my hate. The blood of every single Stormcloak soldier will be on your hands."
"Sovngarde calls all of us." Ulfric smirked, pushing himself to his feet.
"Death by my hands will not lead you to your promised eternity, I can assure you." Nero said, running his tongue over his top row of teeth. "And Sovngarde will not bell calling for the Stormcloaks."
Nero seemed to phase through space, appearing behind Ulfric, back to back with the Jarl. The thrashing of Nero's brothers and Ulfric's henchmen in the lake almost masked Nero's sinister laugh that drifted through the air. A crippling fog suddenly rolled over the lake, obscuring all vision of those gathered. All sound stopped, apart from the dark laughter of Nero.
"Five days… Solitude will be the battleground." Nero's voice tolled, seeming to come from all directions. "Fate will choose a victor, and who stands in the ashes of victory will shape history. Pray to your Gods that Talos comes to your aide."
And as quickly as the fog appeared, it vanished, taking Nero and the DeSades with it.
END: Midnight Council
Next Chapter: Claws of the Thalmor