VI

Arken stepped through the large doors into the House Redoran Great Hall, immediately taking in the elegant if not stiff scene in a quick glance. He was wearing a fine and rather expensive outfit that he'd actually purchased rather than pilfered. He wore a matched set of dark blue silk shirt and pants with fine netch leather boots and belt. He topped off the ensemble with a black fine cotton cloak draped over his left shoulder, concealing his sword beneath it. He handed the servant his invitation and proceeded into the room, but didn't get two steps before being intercepted by a trio of guards in some uncharacteristically spiffy looking bonemold armor.

The guard captain nodded to him, "Any weapons, sir?" Arken responded silently by drawing back his cloak to reveal his sword.

The Dunmer guard reached for the weapon, "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm going to have to…"

Arken grabbed his wrist before he could touch it, "The blade stays."

The guard's face hardened, "I will remind you, milord, that weapons are not permitted within the hall during the festivities."

"And I will remind you that the blade stays. A man in my position doesn't leave his personal safety to chance."

The captain jerked his hand from Arken's grip and rested it on his own sword, "Your 'personal safety' is getting in the way of my job, sir. I will ask you one more time: please remove…"

"It's alright, Sorek." Merrenda walked through the group of guards and stood before Arken, "He's fine with his weapon. Return to your post."

"As you wish, milady." The guard saluted smartly and all three left for their respective posts, leaving Arken alone with Merrenda.

Merrenda smiled brightly at Arken, "I'm happy to see that you took me up on my offer, Master Dralkes."

Arken returned her smile, "I told you I wouldn't disappoint you. I'm a man of my honor. If I make a promise, I keep it."

Merrenda nodded lightly, "Now I'm starting to understand why father likes you so much." She looked back at the crowd down the stairs briefly, "Shall we?"

Arken offered his arm, "As you wish, milady." Merrenda took his arm and both descended the stairs to mingle. Lord Redoran extended a warm welcome to Arken and he recognized a few of the various delegates he'd dealt with on his way up the ranks.

Arken and Merrenda took some drinks from a passing platter before she spoke up again, "So, what do you think?"

Arken looked around briefly and then back at her before answering, "Well, I can't say as I like it, but the pleasant company makes up for that."

Merrenda looked away to hide her blush, "I do hope you're not trying to flatter me, Arken."

Arken looked down at her, "Merely stating the truth, milady."

She looked around the room, "I can understand if you're not a man of formalities. I'm not too keen on it myself, but 'position has its price' as father always says. Sometimes you just have to tolerate it."

"Shadowstep."

Arken's head whipped around when he heard his Morag Tong name whispered in the air. His gaze panned across the room until he noticed a faint shadow cast on the wall in a corner. Arken furrowed his brow because it was a shape he recognized all too well.

Arken carefully freed his arm from Merrenda's grasp, "Excuse me, milady. I thought I saw someone I recognized. I'll return in a moment." He weaved his way through the crowd until he came to one corner of the room with a large plant in it that was cast in a little more shadow than the rest of the room.

Arken turned around to face the crowd and spoke in a low whisper, "How did you get in here?"

Savantus leaned out from behind the plant, still transparent thanks to his invisibility spell, "It's easy to overlook something you can't see, Arken. I wanted to let you know I've done some digging on who killed the slave lord and I've got some leads to run down. There's one I want you to look into."

Arken nodded subtly, "Who is it?"

He heard Savantus breathe an apprehensive sigh behind him, "You're not going to like it. I need you to check up on your partner, Krayven, for me."

Arken looked back at the Imperial over his shoulder, "Krayven? He'd never do something like this."

Savantus' shadow shook its head, "We don't know that, Arken. Krayven's been acting a little suspicious lately, like he's hiding something. If nothing else, we need to eliminate him as a suspect."

Arken worked his jaw around for a moment before responding, "Alright. I'll talk to him next time I see him, and see if I can search his quarters."

Savantus nodded, "Don't ask him anything direct. If Krayven's our guy, then direct questions will spook him and all our leads will disappear. I'll trust you to use your judgment. Good hunting."

Arken nodded, "Good hunting." Once he was assured that Savantus was gone, he glanced across the crowd until he located Merrenda talking to a couple of Imperial dignitaries. He quickly moved through the crowd to rejoin her, since he was her escort for the evening and didn't want to be accused of abandoning her. He came up next to her and resumed his position at her side.

Merrenda looked back at him as he appraoched and spoke to the delegates, "Oh, here he is. This is the young man I was telling you about." She motioned to Arken, "Baron and Lady Allectus, I'd like you to meet Arken Dralkes, Lawman of House Redoran."

The baron extended his hand, "It's a pleasure, Master Dralkes. Both Lord and Lady Redoran speak very highly of you."

Arken shook his hand and shrugged, "I'm just a simple man trying to make his way in life." He nodded to him, "So what do you do in the house exactly?"

The baron switched his drink to his other hand, "I oversee Redoran dealings in Mournhold. I'm working on a property contract in Godsreach right now."

Arken raised his brow, "Sounds big."

The baron nodded, "Very. If it goes through, we can set up a warehouse in Godsreach that will supply a merchant shop in the Markets. Overall, it's a promising venture for the house."

Merrenda nodded to him, "And I'm sure you'll do a fantastic job at it. I apologize, but if you'll excuse us, please." She tugged at Arken's arm and he followed her away from the baron and his wife.

Arken glanced back briefly, "You know, I was actually interested in what he was saying, Merrenda."

Merrenda turned around as she led him out onto a vacant moonlit balcony, "I'm sorry, but I had to get away, get some air. Sometimes these events can be a bit stuffy for me."

Arken cocked an eyebrow as they came to a stop at the balcony rail, "I would've guessed you'd be used to it by now, having been brought up in it."

Merrenda shook her head as she looked out at the silvery view of the moonlit desert, "Not really. In fact, I think that's only made it more suffocating. The more I'm around snobby and stuck up nobles and delegates, the less I enjoy it."

Arken leaned his elbows on the rail and looked at her, "So if there was one thing you could change about your life, it'd be this?"

Merrenda shrugged, "This, and one or two other things. Father and I don't exactly agree on…" She paused for a moment before shaking her head, "Well, that's not important." She leaned her elbows on the rail and looked at Arken, "You don't seem to enjoy these events either. Odd for a noble's son."

Arken furrowed his brow and looked at her, "Who told you I'm a noble's son?"

Merrenda shrugged, "Well, I just assumed. You seem so proper, so well-mannered. By your behavior tonight, I'd have guessed that were noble-born."

Arken shook his head and looked out at the moonlit view, "Actually, my parents were common folk, merchants in Cyrodill. I didn't really follow the trade. I became something of an adventurer instead."

Merrenda canted her head, "Hmm. Did you not get along with your father?"

Arken shrugged, "Never really knew him. My parents were killed when I was very young. I had to…take some drastic measures at times when I was a boy."

Merrenda's eyes widened as he gaze fell, "Wow. I'll never complain about not seeing mother that often ever again. I'm sorry." She looked at Arken again, looking to change the subject, "So you came to Morrwind following the business opportunities?"

Arken shrugged again, "Yes and no. You might say that opportunity brought me here. It was all I could do at the time, and I can't really complain about it. I've gotten to do some interesting things, see some wonderful sights…" He trailed off as he looked at her, "I wouldn't have met you if I hadn't come here."

Merrenda smiled as she looked down and blushed, "Thank you." She looked around as the night grew darker and shuddered at the evening air's chill.

Arken noticed her shiver and immediately unfastened his cloak, "Here. This should help." He set the cloak around her shoulders.

She closed the cloak around herself and smiled at him, "Thank you. That's much better." For a moment, Arken saw something while looking at Merrenda. He saw trust. It was a trust that went beyond an ally or even a friend. This trust was deeper than that. It was a trust that Arken had never seen before, and one that he hoped would not be broken by things to come.

Arken breathed a sigh before glancing back at the party inside, "We probably need to get back inside. Your father's going to start wondering where you are."

Merrenda nodded, "I agree. Shall we?" Arken offered his arm and Merrenda took it without hesitation as they walked back into the crowd of people. The rest of the evening went by surprisingly smooth in spite of the activities being dictated by protocol and tradition. Arken couldn't complain though, because it gave him a chance to dance with Merrenda. Arken went home that night feeling better then he ever had in his life. Somehow, Merrenda's presence made him feel complete, like a long-standing void in his life had finally been filled. He enjoyed what he saw in her that night, but he was also fearful of what would be brought about in days to come. Only time would tell, and when the time came, then he would see what they were both made of.

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Arken leaned in through the door to the main chamber of the Morag Tong hall in Vivec and looked around. He found Krayven sitting at a table, running a stone down the edge of his sword. Arken looked around the room to assure himself that they could talk privately and started toward him. In his hand was a false writ of execution he'd asked Grandmaster Hlaalu to write up for this very reason. Hopefully, if Krayven was the one they were looking for, he would take the bait. Arken sat down at the table as Krayven put away his claymore and picked up a large Orcish cuirass that he started working on.

Arken looked at him and raised an eyebrow, "Heavy armor?"

Krayven kept working on the cuirass, "I've always preferred heavy armor. The only reason I tolerate this fluffy flutter is because it's enchanted." He paused to look down at his leather armor and scoffed, "For crying out loud, I'd be better protected if I wore bird feathers."

Arken shrugged and put the fake writ on the table, "I got something for you. Hlaalu wanted me to pass it on. He said it needed to be done soon."

Krayven glanced at the writ only briefly before going back to work on his cuirass, "You can have it. I've got enough things on my plate this week."

Arken bit his lip subtly. He wasn't taking it.

He opened the writ and looked at the number Hlaalu had stenciled in, "Two thousand drakes. That's a nice little gold nugget. You sure you don't want it?"

Krayven shrugged as he worked one of the pauldrons loose, "Like I said, I'm busy. I've got a life outside of the tong, Arken. You know how it is."

Arken looked back at the writ and read the name. It wasn't familiar and sounded Imperial, so he started making up details to make it a little juicier.

"Last I knew this guy was rather wealthy. That kind of high profile target could earn you some real respect when the others find out."

Krayven finally responded to the bait. His head came up with a start, "He's wealthy?"

Arken looked at him and nodded, "Yeah. Some kind of a merchant lord or something." Seeing an opening there, he pressed, "I've heard he's got some kind of huge vault in his house where he keeps his valuables. Piles of gold and a big chest full of gems, or something like that."

"Hmm." Krayven set his cuirass down and took the writ to look it over, "I've never heard of this guy."

Arken shrugged, "He came to Vardenfell a little less than a year ago. He's not very well known, and apparently not very well liked either; else we wouldn't have a writ with his name on it."

Krayven studied the writ for a while longer before cocking an eyebrow, "Hmm. I think I can make room in my schedule for this. Thanks, Arken. I'll see you around." Without another word, Krayven picked up his belongings and left the room, heading for the trapdoor exit.

Arken watched Krayven leave and furrowed his brow. All of a sudden, those things Krayven had to do weren't so important anymore. He stood and looked around the room. Now was as good a time as any to check Krayven's quarters, so Arken made his way down the hall to Krayven's room. He pulled a lockpick from his pocket and inserted it into the keyhole to see how hard it would be to pop it open. He was rather surprised to feel that there were five tumblers in place. After a minute of probing and after breaking a lockpick, Arken finally sprang the lock on the door and carefully pushed it open.

Inside was pretty much what he'd expected from the likes of Krayven Harkonus. His belongings were rather neat and his shelves were decorated with various trophies from past accomplishments. The first place Arken looked was the desk. He gently checked the piles of parchments, being careful not to disturb anything too much. Nothing. No sign of the writ he was looking for, or anything else that might incriminate him. Arken checked the dresser to no avail and the shelves with the same results. There was a locked chest at the foot of the bed, but it had a customized lock. Arken would need the key if he wanted to get in there. Overall, there was nothing to link him to the death of the slave trader.

Before leaving, Arken noticed one of the trophies on Krayven's shelf. It was a skull that he didn't remember being there before. Arken furrowed his brow. A bit of a grisly memento for Krayven to keep. He would've dismissed it completely were it not for something that was out of place. The skull's teeth were not resting together, almost like there was something holding them apart. He carefully opened the skull's mouth to find a key tucked inside. Arken removed the key and gingerly set the skull down, taking a moment to admire Krayven's thinking. No one would want to look for a key in a skull's mouth. He knelt in front of the chest and slid the key in, hoping it was what he was looking for. He was rewarded with hearing the latch spring and he opened the chest.

The sight he was treated to took him by surprise. A full suit of glass armor, a small case full of varying gems, several silver and ebony weapons, and enough gold to comfortably retire on were all stashed in the chest. Arken looked at it all and frowned. The gold he could understand since Krayven was a little bit of a miser, but the tong didn't pay its members with items like armor and weapons. Krayven had gotten all this from somewhere. Upon further examination, Arken noticed that several of the weapons had initials or names engraved into them, none of them matching Krayven's name. Arken leaned back and scratched his head. Was Krayven stealing all these things from dead marks? Thievery was obviously not a problem as far as Arken was concerned, but something about this just didn't sit right. There was something wrong here; he could feel it.

Arken noticed a small side compartment in the chest and opened the little door to find a number of small, rolled parchments. He pulled them out and started opening them to look through them. They were all writs of execution, and some of the names Arken recognized as having been wealthy people. He looked from the writs to the contents of the chest. Arken himself had nipped a few valuable items from marks he'd killed in the past, but why did this particular situation feel so wrong? He opened up the next writ and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he saw the name. It was the slave lord. Krayven had the writ! Arken immediately tucked all the writs into a pouch on his belt and locked up the chest after him. After replacing the key in the skull's mouth, he exited the room and pulled the door shut behind him. He turned around to lock it again and complete his little raid.

"Looking for something?"

Arken's head snapped around to find Krayven standing in the hallway. Doing his best to resist the urge to panic, Arken remained calm enough to think up a quick alibi.

He nodded calmly, "Yeah, I was looking for you. You didn't answer when I knocked so I…let myself in."

Krayven smirked and shook his head, "Keep your other occupation out of the tong, Arken. What did you need me for?"

The Dunmer pointed to the parchment in Krayven's hand, "I just wanted to know if you needed help with that writ. We are partners, after all."

Krayven waved it off, "No, I got it covered. Thanks for the offer, though."

Arken shrugged, "All right. Suit yourself. Good hunting to you."

Krayven nodded to him as he walked away, "Good hunting."

Arken rounded a corner in the hall and leaned against the wall to bring his racing heart under control. He'd never been so close to being caught in the act in his life. He took a few deep breaths before standing and continuing down the hall to the main chamber, where he found Savantus sitting at the table waiting for him.

Savantus pushed his hood back as Arken walked up to him, "You're late, Shadowstep."

Arken shrugged as he sat down, "Put it on my tab. What've you found?"

Savantus stared straight ahead, "The slave lord wasn't the first torture. There have been several kills that were rather brutal, all of them very similar to the slave lord. They were all marked by the tong, and coincidentally all of their writs are missing with no sign off."

Arken thought back on his conversation with Krayven earlier before he came up with something, "Were any of them wealthy, by chance?"

Savantus' eyes darted about as he thought for a moment, "Yes. All of them, actually." He leaned one arm on the table, "And, interestingly enough, all of them were reported to have valuables missing. Heirlooms, expensive weapons, life savings, that sort of thing. Why do you ask?"

Arken jerked his thumb back toward Krayven's room, "Because he took the bait you suggested. Except he only took it after I mentioned that the mark was wealthy."

Artanus nodded slowly, "Hmm. You think that Krayven's stealing valuables from his marks?"

Arken shook his head, "If he is, that wouldn't explain why they're diced up. But on the other hand, I do have something that links him to at least one of them." He reached down to his pouch and pulled out the writs, dropping them on the table. He opened the one with the slave lord's name on it and Savantus simply nodded. The Imperial started going through the rest of the writs until he came to the last one.

He looked at the name and nodded again, "This is good, but one writ's not enough for Hlaalu. He'll dismiss it as circumstantial." He stood and gathered the writs, "I'll compare these to the names of the tortures on record. If they match, I'll polish it up in a report to Hlaalu and get it to him as soon as possible."

Arken shrugged, "Shiny. You need me for anything?"

Savantus secured the writs in his bandolier and nodded, "Stay in town for the rest of the day if you can. If and when the grandmaster gives the order to bring Krayven down, I'll want your help. I'll come find you just as soon as I've spoken to Hlaalu." Without another word, Savantus turned and headed out of the hall.

Arken did as he was bidden and stayed in Vivec after a quick Mages Guild zap back to Balmora to get Ra'Jharra. If Savantus wanted Arken's help taking Krayven down, then Arken also wanted help. He knew full well just how dangerous Krayven was. They waited in a tavern in the Redoran Canton while Savantus did his work. The problem started to make itself known when they kept waiting. Several hours passed with no sign of Savantus, and Arken was starting to get fidgety from the delay.

Ra'Jharra looked out the tavern door before returning to their table. Arken questioned him as he sat down, "Anything?"

Ra'Jharra shook his head as he took a drink, "No sign of him."

Arken looked at the wall for a moment, "This is taking too long. We should have heard something from Savantus by now. It's not like him to take his time with something this important."

Ra'j set his drink down and looked at Arken, "Maybe something went wrong."

The Dunmer breathed a sigh through his nose, "Unfortunately, that's what it looks like." He stood and checked his sword, "Stay here. If I'm not back in an hour, go straight to Hlaalu and have him bring Krayven in for questioning."

Ra'Jharra's ears turned back, "I should go with you; to watch your back."

Arken waved him off, "No. What we've learned won't do any good if no one lives to tell it. I know how dangerous Krayven is. We used to spar together, so if anyone has a chance of taking him down, I do."

The Khajiit frowned, "If you used to spar together, then that means Krayven knows your weaknesses, too."

Arken nodded, "I know. And I don't intend to give him a chance to exploit them." He turned to leave the tavern, "Remember: one hour. If I'm not back, go to Hlaalu."

Arken made best speed to the Arena Canton and down into the Morag Tong hall beneath. His first note of caution was that the main chamber seemed eerily empty. Either everyone was out on a contract, or everyone was avoiding the area for some reason. He went down the quartering hall until he found Savantus' room with the door wide open.

Arken frowned, "Artanus?" He turned into the room, "Artanus, what's the…" The sight he saw stole his next words. The door was open and Artanus Savantus was lying dead on the floor, face down in a pool of his own blood. Arken looked around the room briefly. There was no sign of forced entry and no sign of struggle short of an overturned chair. He knelt down next to Savantus and shook his head. This was a set back they couldn't recover from. Whoever had done this was good at what they do.

As Arken looked the body over, he noticed a wadded up piece of paper in his left hand. He pried back the stiffening fingers and opened up the bloodstained paper. Savantus had written it hastily in his last moments.

Shadowstep, I don't have much time. The wound is deep and I'm bleeding badly. I wouldn't give myself more than twenty minutes. Arken, it was Krayven. Krayven did this. He got wise to us and now he's trying to clean up his mess. Watch your back. My report for Hlaalu is in my desk drawer. The key is in my right hand. Get it to Hlaalu; take Krayven down. I only regret not being there to see it. I've done my part, now it's time for yours. Good hunting and swift kills, Arken Drakles.

Arken quickly set the paper down on the floor as he pried Savantus' right hand open to remove the key. He went to the desk and inserted the key to unlock the drawer. When he opened it, his eyes widened. The drawer was empty. The report was gone. Arken almost turned to leave when he heard something behind him, the sound of paper being stepped on. Someone was in the room with him.

Arken dropped and rolled backward as a large blade slashed down through the air where he'd just been standing, splitting the desk in half down the middle. He rolled to his feet and drew his sword in the same motion, coming to his fighting stance facing his attacker. As Savantus had said, it was Krayven Harkonus, wearing toe-to-shoulder Orcish armor. He pried his claymore from the remains of the desk and turned to face Arken.

He reached under his cuirass and pulled out a folded parchment, "Looking for this?" He tucked it back under as he glanced at Savantus' body, "I knew you and Savantus were on to me from the moment you gave me that fake writ. Why else do you think I was playing along? If you guys didn't suspect that I knew, I could eliminate you both just that much easier."

Arken shook his head, "Why, Krayven? Why torture people and then steal their valuables? Is there some kind of 'sick freak' side of you I never saw all these years?"

Krayven smiled sadistically, "You almost had it right, Arken. I torture people to steal their valuables. These wealthy sorts aren't always forthcoming with where they keep their money and high-price goods, even if they know they're about to die at the hand of an assassin." He looked down the length of his blade, "Pain has such a wonderful talent for loosening tongues."

Arken frowned, "So you'd torture your marks to get them to tell you where their valuables are?" He shook his head, "You disgusting vermin. I'm a thief and even I have more honor than that."

Krayven shrugged, "What's with you people and this 'honor' business? You and I both know, Arken, that all that matters in this world is getting a hold of all that you can of before someone else beats you to it. Except people like you are bound by this whole 'moral dichotomy' thing."

"Because some things are just plain wrong, Krayven. No one deserves to be butchered like an animal."

Krayven leaned on his claymore like it was a cane, "I've been your partner for five years, Arken. You and I both know that that's exactly what people are these days: animals. Selfish and savage."

Arken shook his head, "And you think you're any better by torturing people? Come clean with me, Krayven. Turn yourself in, and I'll convince Hlaalu to spare your life."

Krayven scoffed, "Spare my life so I can rot in a prison cell. Now there's an attractive choice for you." He shook his head, "I'm like you, Arken. I choose freedom."

Arken pointed his sword at Krayven, "You are nothing like me."

Krayven shrugged, "You and I are alike in a lot of ways, Arken. For instance, we both bleed red." He kicked his sword up to a fighting stance, "Allow me to demonstrate!"

Krayven swung his sword in a diagonal slash that Arken parried off. Krayven completed a spin and attacked again from the same direction horizontally. Arken crouched under the blade, hearing the steel ring over his head, and stood up with a vertical slash aimed for Krayven's chest. Krayven stepped back out of reach and brought his blade around to block hard. Arken used the sword's recoil to whip around and slash at his side, again blocked by the larger blade. The young Dunmer then completed a series of three spins, once and twice slashing with his blade, the third time sliding into a crouch and sweeping his foot under Krayven. The Imperial successfully blocked the first two strikes, but had his feet knocked out from under him with the third and fell to the floor with a hearty thud. Arken stood over him and raised his sword to strike when Krayven smashed the pommel of his weapon into the side of his knee. Arken's knee buckled and he staggered back, finally bracing himself against the far wall. Krayven shoulder-sprang to his feet and lunged at Arken with a thrust. Arken parried the incoming blade aside, causing Krayven to bury the tip deep into a wooden support beam.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Arken stepped forward and slammed his elbow into Krayven's sternum, following it up with striking the back of his fist against his jaw. Krayven took the full force of both blows and released his embedded weapon to fall back. Arken came in with another strike when Krayven bent back and kicked forward, ramming his heavy boot into Arken's stomach. The force of the blow knocked Arken's sword from his hand and gave him the dry heaves for a moment before he regained control of himself. Krayven followed his kick up with two crosses to Arken's face and a roundhouse kick to the shoulder. The crosses connected, but Arken saw the roundhouse coming and ducked under it. He came back up with a rising uppercut to Krayven's chin which he transitioned into an elbow-cross to the side of his head.

Krayven reeled around from the blow, giving Arken a chance to snake his arm around the Imperial's neck and secure him in a headlock. That didn't last long before Krayven elbowed him in the ribs and smashed his other elbow across his face, forcing Arken to let go. Krayven then reversed the situation by sliding around behind Arken and wrapping his own arm around the Dunmer's neck. He pushed forward, slamming Arken's chest into the wall and trying to knock the wind out of him. Arken knew what was going on and knew he had to get out of it quickly. He pushed off of the wall and curled his legs up, using Krayven as a support to walk up the wall and flip over behind him. Arken landed on his feet behind Krayven and punched the Imperial squarely in the face as he turned around. He nearly followed it up with another elbow-cross when Krayven muscled his way past him and yanked his claymore out of the wall. Arken's eyes widened when he saw that he was armed again and he rolled back away from Krayven's slash to get to his own weapon. He rolled past his sword, snatching it as he went by, and came to his feet just in time to block a hard overhand strike. Krayven broke the lock by sliding the two swords apart, raking sparks from his own blade in the process, and stepping back.

Krayven took a moment to catch his breath before smiling sadistically, "You might as well give up, Arken. Even if you do get to Hlaalu, he's not going to believe a word you say without Savantus' report."

Arken gave that mischievous thief's smirk as he held up a folded parchment, "You mean this?"

Krayven's smile vanished and he started patting himself down, checking various pockets and pouches. When he finally realized he'd been pick-pocketed while they were in that grapple earlier, his smile was replaced with pure rage. He came in with a high overhand slash with the intention of spitting Arken in half. The young Dunmer nimbly ducked under the swing, punching Krayven in the stomach and doubling him over. He stood and slammed the pommel of his sword into the back of Krayven's head as he stepped by him and moved to the door.

Krayven turned around to look at Arken, holding his stomach and his face contorted with anger, "You may have won this time, Arken, but mark my words when I say I will kill you for this embarrassment! You have not seen the last of me. One day we will finish what we started here!" He pulled a small phial from his belt and shattered it on the floor. Arken turned away and shielded his eyes from the blinding flash the potion caused. When he turned back, Krayven was gone without a trace. So much, the better. Arken turned down the hall and ran full tilt to Hlaalu's chambers. This evidence would end Krayven's career as a Morag Tong assassin and avenge Savantus.

This whole escapade had shown to Arken that even a thief could know what was right and wrong. But if there was anything that Arken knew about Krayven, it's that he would some day return to fulfill his promise. He didn't want to think about that, because Krayven's vendetta might cause problems with a happy life with a certain young Dunmer woman Arken thought about a lot. But only time would tell. That much was certain. Only time would tell.