A/N: This chapter has undergone minor revisions since the final chapter of this story was released. Keep in mind, revised chapters may be inconsistent with earlier reviews and the author's notes (A/N) of unrevised chapters.

The name of whose perspective the section will follow is above the line, and any segment of story separated by lines without a change of perspective is a flash back.

Second seed, 29, 4E1

(Fights-up-close): Black Wood

I knew I was close, even though I could see nothing promising through the thick, swampy forest. I was told it would be about a four hour walk, and I'd already passed that much time. It was quite possibly the worst four hours of my life, with the exception of my assignment on the Morrowind border. My legs ached, my throat felt painfully dry, the hot humid air was like a steam bath mercilessly coating every-inch of my body; My tail had already picked up so much filth, which I hoped was all mud, and my "adventuring" shoes were already so soaked I could feel the water shift in them with every step I took. As if the terrain wasn't enough, I'd already been bitten by so many bugs it seemed like pricks of pain and itchiness were popping up randomly on my body. It really made me think a bit about the life some of the tribals had to live, and it was a shame it was so difficult for the Argonian Royal Court to help them.

I knew I'd never take clean clothing and fresh water for granted again. I had been given a canteen for the trip, but drank it all within the first couple of hours. I didn't have room to pack more, given all I'd be carrying for my stay in Cyrodiil, and that made this last hour so intolerable. I could have cut my trip down to three hours if I'd taken a direct root, but thanks to the screw-up of a previous Shadowscale sent to Leyawiin with what the Countess perceived as the intent to assassinate her, Argonians no longer received a warm welcome there, according to Learns-fast.

To avoid getting interrogated by the Countess, I had to get to the road a good deal North of the city, travel South, and say I was visiting from Bravil. The stories I'd heard about the interrogations which took place inside the castle hurt just to think about.

I mourned the loss of any of my fellow Shadowscales, but right now I was frustrated at his failure years ago. The only good thing about his failure was that it reminded me of the risks involved in these missions, which instilled a useful caution in me.

Then I saw something through the trees that appeared to be the river and the road. Though I regarded it with cynicism at first, not wanting to get my hopes only so they could to fall to the ground, it soon became undeniable.

I was filled with a momentary bliss and satisfaction at the sight. A pleasure as pure as any I'd ever felt flowed through me. I had no plan on drinking the water, but civilization in any form, even as simple as a road, was beautiful after the long walk. With my destination so close, the ache in my legs and dirt on my clothing seemed more like a competitor than an aspect of suffering now.

I walked over towards a nearby rock to sit down.

I enjoyed the simple pleasure of relaxation briefly as I began to plan my arrival in the city.

As I pondered my arrival in County Leyawiin, I remembered the scroll I was given. I was told to read it when I arrived in Cyrodiil.

I removed my back-pack, feeling wonderfully light and liberated, and reached in. Inside was a rolled up piece of parchment which I recognized as the scroll I was told to read. I unraveled it, enjoying a sound that poetically captured the secret and deadly lifestyle of the Shadowscale, an image which I was proud to live by.

Greetings faithful spy,

I hope I do you no dishonor by not addressing you by name or rank, but the secrecy behind this mission is of utmost importance. You know of your allegiances, your real name, and your codename , but the enemy does not. It must stay this way, and this is the main reason we did not pack you with your uniform for this assignment. Though you should prevent this letter from ending up in the hands of the Countess at all cost, we must still take precautions even if something so unthinkable were to happen. Remember Climbs-out-of-sight's blunder, as we do not want a repeat. Hopefully your initial briefing on the situation was thorough enough, because there are many details of this mission I cannot mention. Secrecy has always been our ally.

First off, welcome to Cyrodiil! We are aware the idea of being in foreign territory may be somewhat daunting, even with all you've been taught about the Cyrodillic language and culture, but fear not; Leyawiin has a significant and largely relatively unassimilated Argonian population, so you are unlikely to arouse any suspicion with your mere presence. With your 20th birthday approaching, we think this assignment should serve as good practice in the process of slowly easing your way into Cyrodillic culture, as will be required with your "transfer".

Now, onto the specifics on this mission: Attached, you will find a map of castle Leyawiin, as well as a list of some important individuals who reside there. However, the list has been narrowed down to several who have the most potential to supply information. Remember, Countess Alessia Caro is who you were ultimately sent to spy on.

Keep in mind, the information we gathered may not be completely accurate. It has been gathered primarily through spies like yourself, as well as the interrogation of various Cyrodiil settlers in our country. Because you are not the last spy we will likely be sending to Castle Leyawiin, and because all of those interrogated are no longer available for further questioning, it would be greatly helpful if you could confirm as many pieces of information from the attached documents as possible. Our interrogations have been drawing a considerable amount of attention in Cyrodiil (reported as "disappearances"), so, again, don't under-estimate the importance of your role in this mission, as keeping an eye on Leyawiin has become increasingly difficult recently.

Due to your experience and past loyalty, we are, for a change, leaving your method of execution for this mission largely up to you. You may extract information as you chose. If you can, we suggest you make contact with the Renridjra Krin, as they may have already uncovered information they would be willing to share with you if they were aware of your mission. This may be difficult, however, as that group is largely secretive and with good reason. As of now they'd have little reason to trust you.

You are to meet with Goes-in-heavy (or, as he has been code-named: Scar-tail) upon arrival at the Five Claws Lodge Though you may or may not be working together for this assignment, a rendezvous is still recommended as "Scar-tail" has more extensive experience spying on the counties of Bravil and Leyawiin, and will likely be able to assist you.

You are to report back to our headquarters in Gideon sanctuary in one week.

Most importantly, DO NOT CONFESS YOUR AFFILIATIONS UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. If you are captured, we recommend suicide, as the Countess is infamous for her brutal methods of interrogation, and escape is highly unlikely even for someone of your abilities.

Good luck

Remembering Goes-in-heavy's code-name, I predicted, would be fairly difficult, given I'd only begun to truly remember mine: Swims-the-shore. It was obviously a name I was less proud of than Fights-up-close, but our real-names would no doubt arouse suspicion to anyone who knew our language.

I flipped to the attached document:

Tsavi

Appearance: Khajiit, female

Role: Castle mage

Notes: Though she plays no role in political affairs, she spends much time in the presence of the Count. Not likely to be rich in information, but extraction should be relatively easy.

Traveler-for-knowledge

Appearance: Spined, female, scale color unclear, distinguishably long tail

Role: Chief advisor to the Count.

Notes: Bound to have much information on the current events of the Leyawiin government, and extraction should be relatively easy. Recommended starting point.

Hlidara Mothril

Appearance: Tall, female, human

Role: Chief advisor to the Countess

Notes: While surely a great source of information, more so than either of the above, extraction of this information would be a difficult process.

Countess Caro

Appearance: Female, human

Role: Count's wife; plays a major role in political affairs, possibly more than the Count himself.

Notes: Disdainful of Argonians in any form. Be cautious. Ultimately it is her you are looking for information on, but simply being in her presence could prove dangerous.

Count Caro

Appearance: Male, human

Role: Leyawiin's leader in an official sense, but very impressionable.

Notes: Very little is understood. Reports seem conflicting; obtaining information on this man should be your secondary objective.

Keep in mind, these are mere recommendations, you are not limited to these people.

I rolled-up the scroll once again and put it in my pocket for quicker reference. I waited for the ache in my legs to pass before getting up again, taking time to admire the glistening river as a distraction. The sun was setting, making the water look like liquid gold, with a shine more pure and beautiful than any metal.

I glanced to my left and noticed how close I was to the city. At first it just appeared to be a visual jumble, with colors and shapes my mind couldn't quite assign well to words, but then I realized I was looking at, Leyawiin itself. It was a surreal sight; A wall, far taller than any person, long enough to encase a city, with protrusions on top so evenly spaced they couldn't have come from nature, yet made completely of stone. All the stone had been carved and shaped like mere wood. I guess the idea wasn't that extraordinary, given that I'd seen the Legion soldiers march around in metal uniforms in border areas of Argonia, but it was certainly nothing I'd ever thought of. I closely examined all the thoughts running through my head, as I knew this would make a great story to tell the younger agents when I returned to Gideon. It all felt so dreamy. Being here really made me start thinking outside the box. That was the famous, or possibly infamous, County Leyawiin I was heading towards, no doubt, and I was excited to take a closer look. Creative images of what the interior of such a strange city might look like were rushing through my head, though none really seemed to click as logical ideas because the whole concept seemed impossible to begin with. I pushed myself up from the rock and started walking down the road towards the city.

I could hear the water in my shoes making noise as I walked, but I knew the increased exposure to the sun would start to dry them off. Given the distance between me and Leyawiin, most of what the great stone enclosure looked like was left to my imagination. To some extent I still couldn't quite figure out what I was seeing.

(Champion of Cyrodiil): Chorrol

As I passed by the church I could feel what little pleasure the bright and sunny day had brought wash away. The comfort was a bandage, but the wound wouldn't heal. The church brought my thoughts back to the Gods, which brought me back to the raw, life-marring uncertainties that faced me. I longed for the return of my ignorance.
I quivered with a bizarre emotional concoction as I lifted the bands from the "dead" Dremora's body. It wasn't him I felt any kind of emotion towards: this was a game to the immortals, and I could kill them without pity or vengeful satisfaction. It was the people here I felt for, and the people back home who would soon be enveloped by this blatant evil if I didn't find and kill Mankar.

I looked closely at the odd and intricate bands, trying to figure out how to lock them onto my arm.

This didn't feel like the same war anymore. Heaven and Hell had been mixed. I witnessed the power of the enemy, but any demoralization through fear was compensated with the new reasons I saw to fight them. Mankar's efforts were the lever to a universe of suffering. Everyone who had come here seemed to see that. Now I felt the same kinship with my former enemies as with my friends. It was dreamy, nightmarish, epic, and overwhelming. Even my more basic perceptions were getting shattered here. I was getting feelings that dug deeper into my soul than any I'd known before.

I fastened one band around my arm. I knew I couldn't rest until Mankar was dead. Every bit of thought was centered around ending this "Paradise". I was enveloped by a destructive passion as true as any. I was proud to hold my blood-stained sword infront of his plans.

I fastened the second band. The words of the former Mythic Dawn members wrung in my head. There were tears, whimpers, or jealousy right behind every voice.

"Everyone here died in the master's service. As the master promised, we are now immortal, like the daedra. But living here is a nightmare! The creatures of the Garden torment us endlessly! When we are killed, we are soon reborn and cycle begins again."

"Your quarrel is with Mankar Camoran, not us poor fools."

"Are you here to end this nightmare and free us all from the Savage Garden?"

Bitter-sweetness was the one way to describe this place. I felt a mixed emotions at seeing the once indistinct acolytes of the mythic dawn becoming people I could feel for. I saw the beauty and hideousness of this "Paradise". My motivations felt purer and cleaner than ever, but my fear was greater.

I looked over the bands one more time, rolling my wrists. I wasn't quite sure what could possibly be wrong here, but paranoia had become a habit of mine. Two had already died simply due to my own carelessness. I'd learned caution.

I bent down to pick up my katana, which I'd laid down on the ground while fastening the bands. It glimmered in the soft sunlight of "Paradise", a beauty deceptive as everything here. I held it at my side, ready and eager to unleash the passion bubbling inside me on anyone or anything that stood in my way. This wasn't for me, or Martin, or the Empire. This was for everyone.

I tensed briefly before I took my first step onto the white gold bridge, marking the beginning of my intrusion into the area guarded by the Dremora I'd slain. Yes, I was going to the Forbidden Grotto. I would fight my way in, and I would defeat Camoran and Dagon.

Then it was Mankar Camoran's voice again. I didn't know if I was the only one who could hear him, but he sounded almost outraged. "How little you understand! You cannot stop Lord Dagon!" He seemed to have read my mind.

I continued down the white-gold bridge, this time with more confidence, taking pleasure in disregarding him and his horrible system. I've made it this far. Will and skill can prevail. I had never known passions like I knew now.

"The principalities have sparkled like gems since the first mortal." Yes, I must prevail. Then we could return to comfort, predictability, and simplicity. "Many are their names and the names of their masters." Yes, he was rambling now. "The cold harbor of Meridia. Peryite's Quagmire. The Ten Moonshadows of Mephala and..." He stopped as if bracing himself for the next words. I don't care what he has to say anymore. I continued walking, my mind on my objective. I could feel the rest of Tamriel with me in spirit. I finally stepped onto the soft earth at the end of the bridge. I would cut through his rhetoric and defenses and in the end Tamriel would bask in the unity it gained through its collective struggle against him

"...and Dawn's Beauty, princedom of Lorkhan, misnamed Tamriel by deluded mortals."

Suddenly, I stopped in my tracks. I felt cold.

I stood, frozen, unsure how to react to what I'd just heard. It was a disorienting blow to my mind.

Then I could hear the smile in Mankar's voice, his words slithering into me like a snake "Yes, you understand now. Tamriel is but one more Daedric Realm of Oblivion."

I tried to untangled myself from the captivating power of the memory. I could only hope he was wrong because there was nothing we could do. If we were all to eventually suffer like in "Paradise", there was no point in suffering in those kinds of thoughts now.

But why did the Nine put us through so much tragedy and injustice? They knew of our good faith, they knew we willed to restore the Dragon Fires, and yet they let us suffer.

Even the friendly, prosperous town of Chorrol, with green grass and blue skies, didn't look pretty when I knew such ugly forces might be working behind it.

I rattled the bars, pushing, pulling, and shaking aimlessly to break down the cage. If he remained a prisoner in Oblivion, he would face suffering that could be neither worse nor less deserved.

"Don't worry about me! There's no time!" He said, almost angrily "Get to the Sigil Tower before its too late!"

An immense pity for him and frustration at the mechanics of the universe washed over me as I remembered closing that gate and never seeing him again. Most likely he was still in Oblivion, suffering endlessly for his heroics. That was true heroism, and I hated the concept. It was a truth that could bring me to tears. Evil was the dominant force in the world. There was no other way. It was a truth that cast a shadow over everything. I realized this through the Oblivion Crisis. There was no such thing as a bright future.

My revelations didn't make my fate as bad as his, but even with the crisis over, there were still burdens, still fear, and still tragedy. I was constantly stressed with questions. Should I try to find a way to help bring the Empire out of chaos? Shouldn't I put an image as influential as mine to use for someone else's good? What about that prisoner and his plans for Vardenfell? He'd need to be stopped even if I didn't have proof to show the guards. It was my duty, as a soldier of good, to answer the questions that I'd imprinted in my mind. I was constantly dragging the weight of righteousness. My own ethics constantly marred my existence, and taunted me with opportunities to be blissfully free by shunning virtue.

All those burdens were proof that war was never over. As long as there was will, there was war. It was the war between good and evil. It was a brutal battlefield in my own mind. It was the crushing, painful truth, but it had only started to sink when the ecstacy of our victory in the Oblivion Crisis began to fade away.

I noticed Dar-ma on the sidewalk to my right. I knew I should avoid her. That was an attitude that was becoming more and more prevalent with people I knew in general as time went on. There was too much to sort out in my own mind to spend any energy in the outside world. I had duties no one could see, and their relentlessness was so draining.

I tried to look like I didn't notice her and, somehow, look busy. I looked to my left, watching windows and doors pass by as I walked.

A woman was handing out free copies of the Black Horse Courier on that sidewalk.

I'd hated reading the news these days. The stories were like quicksand for my thoughts: I'd analyze their implications endlessly, sink into their sorrow, and go through quite an effort to pull myself out. It always made it hard to get out of bed in the morning when I knew bad news awaited: Ever since the initial mirth of our victory died down, all I'd heard of was news of the Empire falling apart. The Elder Council tried to put a positive spin on it, but the message between the lines was always disturbing, and witnessing the Oblivion Crisis first hand while reading their updates certainly taught me how to read between the lines.

With a bit of willpower, I began walking to the news lady. I was tensing as I considered I might read about another brewing conflict or tragedy. Now that the Emperor was gone, I always feared of reading about the death that would push the Empire over the edge and into war.

Tucking stacks of paper on her right side, passing out papers with her left hand, she offered one to everyone who walked by her. Maybe about one fifth actually took the offer.

As I got close, she stretched out her hand to me without saying a word. That motion was probably a reflex to her by now. I grabbed the copy.

I turned back in the direction I was originally walking.

I looked down at the paper, wondering briefly if I was damning myself to more discouragement or fear.

Night Mother Rituals!

SPECIAL EDITION!

NIGHT MOTHER RITUALS ON THE RISE!

"And won't be tolerated!"
warns Imperial Legion.

The Imperial City -- pinnacle of art, entertainment, scholarship... and ritualistic murder? So says Adamus Phillida, commander of the Imperial Legion forces in the Imperial City, and a staunch opponent of the mysterious assassin's guild known as the Dark Brotherhood. According to Phillida, Imperial Legion soldiers have discovered thirteen separate instances of the macabre "Black Sacrament," a sinister rite purportedly used to summon a member of the Dark Brotherhood, in order to arrange an assassination.

Whether or not a card-carrying killer shows up on a ritual performer's doorstep remains to be seen, but the Black Sacrament itself is very real, and truly the stuff of nightmares. As documented in the rare and taboo work "A Kiss, Sweet Mother," the Black Sacrament involves an effigy of the intended victim -- created from actual body parts, including a heart, skull, bones and flesh -- within a circle of candles. To proceed with the ritual, one must stab the effigy repeatedly with a dagger rubbed with the petals of a Nightshade plant, while whispering the plea, "Sweet Mother, sweet Mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear." As gruesome as this ritual may be, even more frightening is its intention -- the summoning of a mysterious assassin (who some witnesseses claim is always clad in a black hooded robe) who will then receive money to kill an innocent victim. No remorse. No regret. It is, as the merchant's say, simply business. And that's what worries Adamus Phillida.

"This brazen increase in Night Mother rituals is an affront to the decent, peace-loving citizens of the Empire. The Imperial Legion exists for one reason and one reason only -- to protect and serve the people of Tamriel. How in Azura's name can we do that when people take it upon themselves to contact paid assassins and have innocent people murdered? How can I sleep at night knowing my Legion can't possibly save the life of someone marked for death by the Dark Brotherhood? Anyone who carries out this "Black Sacrament" makes a mockery of the Imperial Legion, and as Commander, that's something I just can't tolerate. From this point forward, any citizen found in the possession of items related to the Night Mother ritual will be incarcerated in the Imperial Prison indefinitely, and their property seized by the Empire. There's no fine high enough, no standard prison sentence long enough, for the type of malcontent who would show such a blatant disregard for our dear Emperor's laws and the wellfare of the fine people of Tamriel"

To be sure, Adamus Phillida is not one to issue empty threats. Indeed, the Black Horse Courier has learned that one Claudius Arcadia, until recently a resident of the Talos Plaza District of the Imperial City, is now residing in a cold, dank cell in the Imperial Prison, and his house has become the newest Imperial Legion outpost. So before you take the law into your own hands, dear reader, remember -- you'll go further in life with a warm smile than a cold blade. And if you've got a grudge that won't be soothed, a score that can't be settled, you can always move to Morrowind and have the government-sanctioned Morag Tong do the killing for you.

(Fights-up-close): County Leyawiin

Now I could make out the shape of a human body, a guard most likely, but he wasn't in the Imperial Legion uniform. He seemed to be guarding the city gate.

I couldn't help but feel a bit tense as I started walking towards the guard. Why, I couldn't exactly pin-point. The letter said I wouldn't arouse any suspicion and, of course, I trusted my superiors. Still, I found I was inadvertently holding my breath as I walked past the guard, wondering what he thought of me. I could feel his gaze, though I felt apprehensive to look over and confirm it. He seemed perfectly willing to let me enter the city gates, none the less.

The sun was already setting, likely Goes-in-heavy would be eating dinner at the "Five Claws Lodge", where-ever that was, so the timing seemed perfect. There was another soldier standing at the other side of the city entrance, who I decided to ask for directions.

I had to muster up a bit of courage to speak; despite meeting countless trainers from the Dark Brotherhood, it would be my first conversation with a Cyrodiil in the strictest sense of the word. I was told it was conventional to start these conversations with "Excuse me,", and that's exactly what I did, but after the long walk of silence my own voice surprised even me a little. Once I'd gotten her attention, I asked for directions to the "Five Claws Lodge".

"Its across from the gate you arrived here in, just keep heading straight. Its at the side of town nearest to the Elswyer border." She spoke so fast that it took me a while to analyze exactly what she had said. I always found reading Cyrodillic considerably easier than listening to it, but when it was spoken it usually sounded like a random jumble of exotic gibberish for the first couple of seconds.

I did as she instructed, walking straight down the city road. Reality became secondary in my mind as I reflected on all that was transpiring; It was my reunion with Goes-in-heavy, or Scar-tail as I needed to get used to thinking of him of that was my main focus. With all I'd seen in my first few minutes, I was sure his experiences over the last few days would be interesting.

I did my best to soak up the ambience of it all; this was my first experience outside of Argonia, and a really fascinating one already. With each building I looked at, my mind drifted off in wonder at what the inside of each could look like. The whole city seemed to be built with an amazing degree of control over the environment. Countless stones had been removed and reshaped; Water had been channeled into pools specifically for swimming; Minerals I didn't even recognize covered the windows the houses. It all seemed to defy the laws of nature, and I couldn't even begin to imagine the process behind all these constructions There were plenty of others on the streets; The letter wasn't exaggerating as, somewhat to my surprise, about a sixth of them were other Argonians.

But there was a third concept just as prevalent in my mind, food. The long walk had invoked a passionate, almost savage hunger in me. I'd been provided 120 Septims for my stay, which was supposedly enough for a cheap Inn, 3 meals a day, and some cheaper extras on the side.

When I saw the gate, I looked to my left and, sure enough, there was the "Five Claws Lodge". Knowing what that meant in Cyrodillic, I had no idea what the name was trying to imply.

I opened the door to the Lodge with a creek. It carried a sort of old, rustic feel to it. I sat down on one of the stools, though its surface was unwelcomingly hard, and politely wrapped my tail close to my legs. But there was no sign of Goes-in-heavy or anyone else in fact besides the publican, a finned woman standing behind the counter.

"Welcome to the Five Claws Lodge. Food and beds, cheap and good, but most of all your hostess promises: always clean." Her Cyrdollic was considerably more fluent than mine, I couldn't help but feel slightly jealous. She slid a menu over to me. Before I took a look at it, I decided to ask about "Scar-tail". I chose to use Cyrodillic;

"Do you know anyone by the name Scar-tail to be staying here?" I asked.

"No." She said simply "A friend of yours?"

"Yes." I responded automatically. I guessed it was more or less true, but the question hadn't really registered in my mind before I responded.

I assumed he was just late, and took a look at the menu. Though it contained nothing which could really pass off as cuisine, there certainly were some exotic items. Right now, I wanted whatever was quickest and heartiest, though those two were a difficult combination. I decided just to order buttered potatoes, as they seemed to be the quickest to prepare: Taste wasn't a huge priority right now.

With "Scar-tail" still not present, I had some decisions I would reluctantly need to think about, but I really didn't feel I had any logical base to begin to make my decisions on. Should I wait for Goes-in-heavy and start my duties later, but with better information, or not wait for him, and start my duties sooner, but with worse information? I couldn't really see any way to weigh the two decisions, but perhaps it was because hunger cutting off my thoughts.

By the time I was handed the plate, with the necessary utensils, my hand was shaking. I almost forgot about my own ego as I gobbled down the food like an animal, barely even analyzing the taste.

I pushed away my plate, and took out 13 Septims, then said "I'll take a room as well." As I waited for her to organize the cash she'd just received, as well as retrieve a room key, I tried to begin thinking about my decision regarding "Scar-tail", but again my thoughts went nowhere. I hoped, at least with some quiet time, I might receive some sort of miraculous enlightenment.

"Very well. Use room number 2. If you need food or drink, just let me know." Said the publican, then smiled warmly and placed the key on the table with a satisfying clink. Even though it wasn't as luxurious as my quarters in Gideon, the friendliness of the hostess was comforting. I started to notice I was already feeling slightly home-sick, however, so the feeling of comfort was considerably diluted; It had been almost a year since I slept in a bed other than my own.

I pushed myself from the chair and turned. Room 2 was the first thing I saw.

The door opened with a creak. I shut and locked the door, then surveyed the room briefly. The wood looked like it could splinter easily, and the room was pretty much undecorated except for a rug. The bed didn't look particularly comfortable either. Still, it had a desk and lantern, and that was a welcome perk, and, as she promised, everything looked clean. That was probably good for a "cheap Inn".

I sat down on the bed and tried to think the issue over, but all I could do was repeat the two possibilities in my head; No points or counter-points formed. Each time I started leaning towards one approach, the other started to nag me. I eventually decided to compromise; I would take a walk around town, perhaps even enter the castle, but try nothing so bold as breaking into private quarters.

Before I went back out onto the streets, however, I put the back-pack I'd been given, which contained all the supplies I'd need for the mission, on the table.

It contained quite a few items: The two documents I'd been given from Learns-fast, a blank piece of parchment I was told to use to keep notes on my findings, a filled and sealed ink-well, a couple of quills, a few lock-picks, some torches, more than one change of clothing and shoes, Manual of Spellcraft, and my custom made dagger I'd been given at age fourteen, so it amounted to a heavy load which I was glad rid myself of, though the ache in my shoulders remained.

I immediately removed the soggy shoes from my feet, placing them near the door without touching the rug.

I did the same with the rest of my clothing, then took out two fresh items of clothing I had packed. My mind was on this city as I did so. There seemed to be so much to see, do, explore, and investigate here.

Clean clothing never felt so nice: that was another luxury I made mental note to appreciate for the rest of my life.

Feeling cooler and cleaner, I exited my room and then the rustic old Lodge entirely.

The city still seemed like such a technological marvel to me, and invoked all kinds of deep, sophisticated emotions in me. I had to admit, I felt slightly jealous of the inhabitants of Cyrodiil. It was humblizing, given that the only basis of comparison I had to our sanctuaries were cities like Gideon, and the encampments inhabited by the tribals. Now was not the time for drifting off into thought, though. Now was the time to get accustomed to the lay out of the city, particularly getting a good idea of where the castle was, and keep a sharp eye out for Goes-in-heavy.

The side-walks were decorated with various signs, each attached to a shop, which was made of intricately woven stones and metals. They seemed to have almost god-like control over elements of Nirn those in Argonia never even bothered to tamper with. The sheer stability of the ground it was built on was amazing as well, given the weight of the buildings.

When the string of shops ended, I found myself face to face with the castle. There were two doors, presumably one led to the roads, and the other to the castle, but it was unclear which was which. Both doors were of equal size, with stone, bent like rubber in some incomprehenable way, around their edges. Both had one guard posted at them.

I realized this would be a great excuse to end up in the castle. I walked to the nearest door before being intercepted by a guard.

"What's your business here, ma'am?" He asked.

"Taking a walk." I responded, which was actually accurate, even though the idea of lying to a henchman of Lady Leyawin wouldn't have phased me.

"Well, listen, there's an Orc named Mazoga in there who says she's a knight. I doubt it, but the Count wants it looked into. Maybe you could go into the Castle and check it out?"

This was certainly a lucky turn of events. Though I hated being thrown into these situations, this would be an excellent way to justify my presence in the castle. Yet, no doubt, this had very limited amount of time to be taken advantage of and without time to mentally prepare, the task seemed rather stressful.

"I'm not busy right now. I'll see what I can do." I responded, and turned to face what must have been the castle doors.

Opening the doors revealed an equally magnificent sight. The interior was almost like cave, but with the neatness only civilized life could have constructed, with the stone molded into distinct hallways for nothing more than simple convenience.

I continued to go straight as I marveled at the dreamy constructions. The columns supporting the massive weight overhead seemed to be decoratively carved on every inch; it was barely recognizable has stone, amazingly enough. I couldn't help but feel a bit nervous as images of the stone falling on my head started to seep into my mind, despite that the structure must have been stable to hold all this time. Even so, there was something...fun about being in enemy territory while they were none the wiser.

As I got to the throne room, I noted neither the Count or his wife were present. However, someone spined woman was standing on the balcony above the thrones. I assumed that was Traveler-for-knowledge, though I couldn't see much more than her face with my angle of view. I started to formulate a conversation in my head. I'd need to start off by asking about Mazoga, but somehow steer the conversation towards politics. I couldn't think of anything, but standing and pondering would no doubt arouse suspicion.

When I approached, she was seemingly lost in thought, but as I got closer, she was abruptly snapped back to reality. Almost as if to apologize, she immediately extended her hand and spoke first. I panicked briefly at the gesture before remembering the "hand-shake" custom. I shook her hand, though I noticed how clammy my own hands were in the process, and felt slightly embarrassed.

"On-Staya Sundew." She introduced herself "Chief advisor to Count Leyawiin...in theory."

It was certainly an interesting introduction "In theory?" I inquired.

She looked back across the balcony, and drummed her fingers while releasing a long stream of air, as if drifting back into her world of thought. Once she'd released the last of her breath, she inhaled and turned back to me as if she'd just made a decision of some sort.

"You're new in town, am I right?" She said, somewhere between a statement and a question.

"From Bravil." I said, which was my cover-story.

She looked away again, paused briefly, then turned back. "Leyawiin has always been a melting pot of races and cultures. Of course, racial and cultural conflicts produce inefficiencies and confusion." She once again paused, as if she had some reason not to continue. She, none the less, decided to:

"I fear Lady Leyawiin and Hlidara Mothril plan to push the minorities aside, and establish a bland, Imperial-dominated culture here in Leyawiin." She stated. I felt immensely satisfied, I had gained some information already, and what I'd heard didn't sound nearly as bad as what the Argonia had initially expected. Still, I needed to continue this conversation as long as I could before On-staya realized exactly how strange the conversation was.

"Go on." I said, hoping to subtly coax more information out of her.

"Well, you don't need to hear any more from me. I'm sure you came here for a different reason." She replied.

"I don't mind." I said, being purposely vague. I tried to gauge exactly where the line for suspicious behavior was in her mind, and planned to fall back on Mazoga to excuse my presence if I felt I was starting to cross it.

"No, really" She insisted "I'm fine. Just tell me who or what you're looking for, and I'll do my best to point you in that direction." It again took me a bit of time to decipher exactly what she had said.

"Mazoga," I responded "Do you know where she is?"

"Oh, no." She responded "I'm afraid that's not my...area." Giving me only a vague idea of what she meant.

"Right," I responded "I'll ask around." Ironically ignorance seemed to be power under these circumstances, and her inability to answer my question was liberating, as it gave me an excuse to continue wandering. I tried one of the doors to the upper level of the castle, but it was locked. Hopefully I could find someone else who had been on the list. Once I thoroughly roamed the castle, I would go back to the Lodge, check for "Scar-tail" again, and write down my findings.

As I looked back down at the lower levels, I noticed a few people heading towards a door on the right of the throne room. On-staya was now walking back down the stairs too, I decided to follow until I was close to the throne room entrance. Then I could start a conversation with the next person to enter. The next person I saw was a towering women, who I suspected was Hilidara Mothrone, or whatever her name was.

"Excuse me," I said, though it still felt a bit awkward to start every conversation with those words "Would you be someone to know why Mazoga is here?"

"No," She started "I am Hlidara Mothril. Lady Leyawiin's chaplain and chief advisor. I assist her ladyship so her enlightened policies might have the greatest possible influence over county Leyawiin."

"Interesting..." I said, since the conversation seemed to be going in the correct direction. She was already starting to walk towards the room the others had gone in, which, judging by the smells, was where dinner was being served. I didn't want to lose her just yet "I'm new in town, anything I should know...about these policies?" I knew it was somewhat of a poorly phrased sentence, but hopefully it would confuse her enough to get her to spew some general information.

"Leyawin is in a state of transition." She said "It has long been a respected county, making moderate economic contributions to the Empire. However, Leyawin must move towards the main stream of Imperial culture both in trade and political affairs. You've picked a fateful time to come here." Before she I could ask anything else she was already walking towards the dining room.

I decided I'd save myself anymore information gathering, at least until dinner had ended, and started to head back to the Lodge. There I could record my current findings, as well as check to see if Scar-tail had arrived. We'd have plenty of material for conversation, and our reunion would certainly be under interesting circumstances.