General Vanhil paced back and forth in his room. He wanted to jump, to leap, to use his wondrous amount of energy that was stored away inside him. He wanted to break free, from his body, from the world. He wanted to dance around the room, forget about everything, but he couldn't. Not in this company.

'Over half the amount of Moonsugar is gone, Vanhil! Over the half the damn amount!'

'I know, I know!' Vanhil hastily replied. 'I'll look into it, okay? Are you happy?'

'No I'm not happy!' Varius Vantinnius yelled back. 'You just want to hurry off to breakfast, don't you?'

Vanhil stared back at Varius. The Knight of the Imperial Dragon was sending spit all over the place, saturating Vanhil's paperwork. The General didn't really care at all about the moonsugar. As, after all, it was he who had taken it.

'Well, we will both be expected,' Vanhil started. 'We both will be expected there, they probably won't start without us. I heard breakfast is the most important meal of the day…' he trailed off, seeing the look on Varius's face.

'There are exceptions Vanhil!' Varius shouted back. He was turning a brilliant shade of purple from loss of breath. 'Why don't you care about this? You're not acting yourself today.'

'It's because I'm sick of everything!' Vanhil suddenly broke out. 'I just had to kill one of my best friends, and now I'm hunting down the other! I need a break! Let me just dine with the others for breakfast, and then I promise I'll get right on this case of yours.'

Varius's seemed to calm down, his face turning back to its normal colour.

'Alright.' He answered, looking down and staring at his boots. 'I didn't know you are so close to these outlaws.'

'I was close to them…'

'Yes, right.' Varius said, looking back up. 'But with this extra feast, I expect your report to be great, and for you to have solved this case by dawn tomorrow.'

'Al-alright.' Vanhil said, a plan already forming in his head.

Varius left the room, closing the door behind him. Vanhil slumped down in a heap on his chair behind his desk. Wiping the spittle of his work, he stared at a blanket over in the corner, hidden from view by most angles because of a large bookcase, covering it in shadow. Vanhil knew, that underneath the blanket, was the rest of the moonsugar.

He stared at the rest of his room. It was a basic design. His desk was at the front of the room, opposite that was a door, which hid his bed and closet. There were some shelves on one of the walls, which carried some alchemy ingredients and tools. A large chest lay beside the desk. His Imperial Templar amour was stored away inside it. The silver claymore, which he trusted so much, was resting against the wall, beside the bookcase. Vanhil's steel tanto was strapped to his belt.

Strumming his fingers on the desk, Vanhil thought through his plan. He was to leave to the Argonian mission, and randomly capture one of them, and blame them for the theft of the moonsugar. Many of them probably had committed crimes before anyway, he would be doing it for a good cause.

Wait, how did he think that? He was the one who stole the moonsugar. How would it be for a good cause? It was pretty stupid. But then again, so was his plan. It was the simplest thing he had ever heard of. Vanhil knew he was smarter than this, so why could he not think of anything better?

It was the moonsugar. Vanhil knew it. It was the moonsugar taking over him. He felt as if he had been betrayed. That friend, that had been so close, that moonsugar, that he loved, had dirtied him. Had cursed him.

But he couldn't resist it. Its pleasure was too great.

He woke from his daze, and shaking his head, he realised that he was quite late for the breakfast. Jumping up, he pulled on a warm robe, and headed out the door at a stride. A figure approached the Imperial when he was locking his door.

'There you are!' cried out Valdemar. 'I just came up looking for you. Why so late for breakfast?'

'I can do what I like sometimes, my lord.' Vanhil sneered through gritted teeth, choosing not to tell Valdemar the truth.

'I'm glad you're finally getting to know me as a lord, instead of the scum you once thought I was.' Valdemar said proudly, slightly strutting as he accompanied Vanhil down the spiral stairs.

Vanhil grunted, and continued his path outside.

Four guards stood around the edges of the stone deck, their faces solemn. Sixteen people were all sitting at the large table Vanhil had seen that morning. Duke Vedam Dren sat at the end by himself as usual, opposite him at the other end of the table was an empty seat where Varius Vantinius should have been sitting. Vanhil headed towards his chair, which was next to a Dark Elf that he had never quite gotten to know. To Vanhil's annoyance, Valdemar followed him, to an unoccupied chair beside him.

Imperial and Altmer sat, both staring at their silverware and empty plates.

'I thought you were all waiting for me.' Vanhil muttered to Valdemar out of the corner of his mouth. 'How come there's no food?'

Valdemar opened his mouth to answer, when Duke Vedam Dren interrupted him.

'You are finally here!' he called out, silencing everyone. He clapped his hands together, smiling. 'Shall we get started then?'

A guard leant towards a door and knocked on it. Straight away around twenty chefs came bustling out one after the other, all grinning cheerfully, and holding onto large silver platters filled with various amounts of food.

'What's the occasion?' Vanhil asked Valdemar, pointing at the gourmet meals.

'Oh like you don't know.' Valdemar answered, sipping a goblet of shein. 'It's Duke Dren's birthday!'

'I'm sorry,' Vanhil said irritably. 'But you sort of lose track of time when you're living in a cave full of criminal scum.'

'Hey, I was there with you.' Valdemar reminded him. 'And I still knew.'

'But unlike you, I have better things on my mind than what to get Dren for a birthday present.'

'Speaking of which, I hope he likes my present.' Valdemar said quietly.

Vanhil grunted in boredom as a pile of steaming hot slabs of nix hound meat was placed in front of him. Valdemar whistled in enthusiasm and forked a couple of pieces of the meat and placed them on his plate.

'I got him an amulet of luck.' The Altmer said as if Vanhil had asked him what present Dren was receiving from him. 'Had to pay a fine amount of gold for it, it was from a friend of mine in Mournhold, Gaenor.'

'Congratulations.' Vanhil said, rolling his eyes and helping himself to some scuttle. There was a tinkling noise and Vanhil looked up, to see a Breton gently hitting his spoon against his goblet. The chatter died down.

'A toast!' the Breton said cheerfully, holding up his goblet. 'To our great Duke, on his one hundred and fifty-sixth birthday! Still young and healthy!'

The crowd around Vanhil chuckled. Vanhil couldn't see what was funny about what the Breton said. Dren was still very healthy and fit. He could even probably beat Vanhil in combat…

Vanhil stopped. Dren probably could beat Vanhil in a fight. Vanhil had fought pathetically against Jolin in their last fight. He made a mental note in his head to practise more in combat.

'Let us hope that he may live for many more years!' The Breton droned on. 'For he truly is the greatest! He is a perfect leader, and my best friend. Thank you, Vedam.'

Dren blushed. Valdemar joined in with the applause. Vanhil rolled his eyes again. The only reason he would ever clap is because the speech was over.

'And I would like to add,' Dren said, standing up. 'Thank you for coming, and for your splendid presents you gave me. I very much wish I could address each and every one of you, but I'm afraid you'd all get very bored. But I would like to give a special mention to my friend Valdemar over there, for I have been looking for a luck charm like this for many decades now.' He pulled out an amulet from under his shirt and showed it to everyone.

'Well, I'm sorry we disrupted your breakfast, but carry on! Dig in!'

Vanhil scoffed down the rest of his scuttle, and absent mindedly chewing on some marshmerrow, he stared out at the scenery around Ebonheart.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a dark shape fall and hit the ground with a loud, sickening thump.

There were cries of astonishment, and Vanhil looked around to see an archer soldier lying on the ground, many arrows protruding from his body. Vanhil looked up to see where the archer had supposedly come from, and saw an Argonian on top of one of the castle towers. The Argonian was clothed in black, and was carrying a Daedric bow. The reptilian creature pulled out its last arrow from its quiver, crying down to the crowd below,

'Let it be known that this day, Torla, the supposed fool succeeded in murdering the Duke, Vedam Dren!'

Vanhil stood up quickly, but it was too late, the Argonian called Torla had started to release the arrow, when a cliff racer suddenly came out of nowhere and knocked Torla to the side, making him shoot the arrow off somewhere in the sky.

Lucky, Vanhil thought. Dren's very lucky that the cliff racer was there.

The Argonian stood back up as the cliff racer left, and reached for another arrow, to find he had none.

Once again, he's lucky. Vanhil thought. Valdemar's amulet really does work.

Torla roared in anger, and jumped off the tower, surprisingly soaring through the air, over the moat and quite far into land before finally starting to drop, where he performed a levitation spell, and floated gently off.

The four guards paused for a moment, staring at where Torla once stood. All at once, they shook their heads and rushed through the door to inside. Far away, Torla's figure finally started to disappear into the distance. Vanhil looked towards a bridge heading over the moat, and sure enough he saw the four soldiers chasing after the Argonian assassin.

Vanhil sat back down, a little confused at what had just happened. The whole thing was rather pointless, actually. Nothing had happened, except for the dead archer beside them. Dren looked a bit pale, and sat back down awkwardly. The Breton beside him and another Dunmer picked up the archer and carried him off, his blood pouring all over their expensive clothes.

'An assassination attempt on his own birthday…' Valdemar said to a Bosmer beside him. 'Bet he wasn't expecting that. Lucky I gave him the amulet.'

The Bosmer gave Valdemar an I-couldn't-care-less look, and carried on with her meal.

Vanhil had a sudden admiration to the Wood Elf.

---------------------------------------

I sat on the bench, staring at my empty bowl. Why did they starve the prisoners here? I wasn't even in the same cell as Vinziah. He was across the hall from me, to my annoyance. We were the only prisoners there in Pelagiad prison, apart from some Argonian lady who hadn't said a thing since we got there.

I remembered back to where we had messed up, where the guard had caught us.

'You are under arrest, for the mass murder in Ebonheart.' The guard had said. 'You will be escorted to prison, where you will undertake your punishment.'

I had said nothing, just held onto Vinziah's wrist as hard as possible.

As we were dragged off, I could see Seth behind us, a hungry look on his face.

I couldn't help it, I grinned.

Vinziah had later that day woken up in prison, as freaked out as if he had woken up in the fiery depths of Oblivion itself. I explained everything to him, and then we settled down to sleep.

'So, what're you two in for?' a female voice said, waking me from my daze. I looked up, and walked towards the door window, staring through the bars outside. No one was there. Vinziah was looking just as confused as I was.

'Who's there?' I asked out to the open.

The Argonian woman in the cell stepped towards her door, looking back to us.

'Who do you think?' she answered.

'You?' I asked, perplexed. The Argonian's voice was unlike her usual race's accent. It was almost Imperial, she didn't hiss like the others, she didn't act like the others.

'I'm the only girl here, aren't I?' the Argonian retorted. 'So, what're you in for?'

'Oh, um…' said Vinziah, speaking up.

'Well, I sort of got him in jail.' I said, pointing to Vinziah. 'I had supposedly broke the law, by defending myself from guards, and he stood up for me.'

'Oh…' The girl said, looking down.

'What about you?' asked Vinziah.

'Well,' the Argonian started, hesitating before talking again. 'I sort of - well, I had raided this rogue's house, and I had found some skooma.'

At the sound of the word, my heart started racing, and I picked up my waste bucket, suddenly vomiting into it. I hadn't had any skooma for days now, and I was craving for it. I had practically lived on skooma for quite a while, and I wasn't quite prepared to give it up. I wiped my mouth, then stood back up, staring at the Argonian again.

'So, carry on.' I said, as if nothing had just happened.

She gave me a quizzical look, then continued with what she was saying.

'Well, yeah, I found the skooma, and I took it. Not for my own benefit, but for my friends. She's a Khajiit, and she loves her daily dose of skooma. But a guard witnessed me giving it to her and…' she sniffed, her eyes watering. 'I gave in straight away, but my friend fought, and they killed her.'

She fell silent.

'My name's Vinziah, that's Jolin over there.' Vinziah broke the awkward silence. 'What's yours?'

'My name's Erin, I was born in Cyrodiil, grew up with an Imperial family, that's why I don't have an accent like my other Argonian brethren.'

I nodded to show I understood.

'What's it like in Cyrodiil?' Vinziah said, taking an interest in Erin. 'I've always wanted to go there.'

'I can barely remember, I was quite young when I left. But I do know - I do remember thinking it was beautiful.'

She looked as if she was going to say more, but stopped, as the end door was opened and the sound of heavy boots came through.

My heart stopped as I saw who came in. Seth was following an Imperial guard inside, obviously arguing with him. Behind them tailed along another guard holding onto an Argonian in braces.

'I'm telling you, I was sent to collect, or kill them!' Seth roared at the first guard.

'Do you have a writ?'

'No, I must have dropped it, but-'

'Then we cannot trust you.' The guards said, holding up a hand to stop Seth saying anymore. The Dunmer knocked the hand aside.

'No! I am here to collect them, and take them back to Ebonheart prison, on General Vanhil's orders!' he cried out.

'If the General sends a letter, approving the collection, we might reconsider, but for now, you are not to even touch these prisoners!'

While the two were arguing, the second guard was sending the Argonian prisoner into the empty cell beside me.

'Get out of my face, Dark Elf.' The first guard said. I thought of shouting a warning to the guard, because I saw an evil look flow over Seth's face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Seth stormed out of the prison, cursing repeatedly at the guard. The soldier ignored him, and pointed to the second guard, saying,

'Send for the torturer, it's time to get these law-breakers in line.'

My mouth fell open in shock. The torturer? We were going to be tortured?

'What? What're you talking about?' Vinziah asked, his eyes wide in fear as I started to try and rip off my jail braces.

'Why? What information do you need from us? What's the point in the torture?' Vinziah said hastily, stepping back from the door.

'To answer your question, Altmer,' the guard said lazily. 'We're torturing you, because you need to learn to believe in the law. You have no information whatsoever from you. And torture, is the best way to show that we're serious when we talk about the law.'

'I am not afraid of torture.' The new Argonian prisoner said. 'I have suffered much more than torture before.'

'Good,' the guard stated. 'Then you can go first.'

'And who're you?' Erin asked the new prisoner.

'I am Torla.' The Argonian said proudly. 'I was chased here by Imperial guards from Ebonheart, after making an assassination attempt on the Duke.'

'And you're proud of your deed?' the guard questioned.

'I believe I did the right thing.'

'Then you're very wrong.' The guard retorted. 'You'll get extra long punishment for your beliefs. You are clearly mad, and what I've heard is that you're called by most people, Torla the fool.'

Torla hissed angrily.

'It is they who are fools.' He said. 'If it wasn't for that damn cliff racer I would have succeeded in my mission.'

There was a loud clunking noise and a figure stepped through the prison door, carrying various sharp tools that poked out at odd angles. I could see a whip at his belt, and thumbscrews hanging on a string strapped to his belt. I knew that this was the torturer. He was wearing a full set of very well polished ebony armour, and he had the build and height of a Dunmer.

'Ah good,' the guard said to the torturer. 'I'll leave them in your care. But Drogan,' he said, using the torturers name. 'Remember our little agreement.'

The torturer nodded.

'Use this one first, and make it extra long.' The guard told the torturer, pointing to Torla.

The torturer nodded again, and the guard left.

'Do you like my new armour?' the torturer asked Erin. Erin stared at the torturer for a moment, probably trying to work out what he meant, then her eyes widened in shock.

'You evil little!' she cried out, punching her door repeatedly, making it rock dangerously on its hinges. 'That's mine! How dare you touch-'

'Now, now.' The torturer interrupted. 'Don't get to upset. If you obey the rules, you may be freed, and you could buy this off me for a fair price.'

'I'd rather see you dead.'

The torturer ignored her, and opened Torla's cell door grabbing the Argonian's wrist and pulling him away, down the hall and into a trapdoor.

I stared in horror, wondering if Torla was going to come back alive.

-----------------------------

There you go, a bit of a longer chapter. Hope it wasn't too confusing.

Thank you to all those who review this story. You really are so awesome! Keep it up!