Beta'd by: The Immortal Spank
Five days have passed since the battle of Knifepoint Ridge.
The one sided slaughter battle had dwindled, it was finally time to sort through the spoils of war while getting everything sorted out amongst my new men and women. I spent a lot of time debating whether or not I should spend most of my points on Skillfully Proficient to bring it up to level 3, or to just max out Gifted Training now and just level up Skillfully Proficient twice. In the end, I figured that getting Skillfully Proficient to the highest level I could right now was more important than better training gains, as I'm satisfied with the growth rate the skill already gives my men.
Skillfully Proficient [III/V]: Your followers receive +30% more EXP when training their skills
It was very impressive in my humble opinion. The ability for my people to learn skills like mining or carpentry 30% faster than the rest of Tamriel was, frankly, busted.
In addition to that, of the forty-seven new followers I got, most of them were forced into fighting. A good thirty-two of them were lower class workers from random mines and lumber mills, barely scraping by while the Jarls took taxes that left them with barely a septim to their name. They told us they were enraptured with Thares's plans, and now that he was dead they had this sudden…clarity that his honeyed words were insane.
The aftereffects of his Daedric Mandate are terrifying to see, Lord knows what would have happened if we hadn't killed him now. The game would suggest he wouldn't make a move…at all, really. The Dragonborn kinda just goes to kill him because Boethia said so.
Regardless, what all of that meant was that my work force just tripled in manpower: 10 new carpenters, 8 new miners, 10 new foragers, and 4 new hunters. Umak was very pleased at this new development, as he now had the ability to entrust Halldir's Cairn in the care of one of his more trusted helpers to cultivate the ingredients that grow there.
I had to go back to Falkreath and buy Umak a second alchemist kit so that the new excess of ingredients wouldn't go to waste, so now we had double the potion production.
With Gavnuk, he loved the new hands he had to help him with a majority of the projects we were undertaking: housing for the men and women, Isobel's little hut, restoring the broken walls, and expanding the original base. It will take time, but we had plenty of materials given that we saved all of the stone the miners had been digging up, plus the abundance of trees that Falkreath had.
With all the noncombatants sorted, Guruk took control of the leftover fifteen people that were now under my command. They were certainly motivated after getting their asses handed to them by my men, and the others welcomed them as openly as a bunch of bandits and assorted outsiders could manage, outside of Brojlic, Erwans, and Joric anyways. Those three still didn't like the new additions, which was understandable, but I'm going to need them to resolve whatever feelings they have so that they can work as a unit.
With my latest and greatest conquest done, I've decided it's time for a well-deserved down time. By that, I mean practicing my magicka, helping Guruk train our men, and going over territory patrols with the troops.
Isobel has also gotten surprisingly more active in my little community. She's no social butterfly, but now she doesn't get irritated when our mages come and ask her questions.
That's huge progress for her!
Also, her lessons with me have become more enjoyable. It wasn't bad before, but it was certainly something that she was doing because it was part of our deal. Now? The lessons were more…engaging, for lack of a better word. It seemed like now we both wanted to be there.
I asked Isobel about the sudden change one day while we were going over the specifics about the Old Magic, and she told me this.
'Isobel was almost magickally persuaded by Dark elf; Isobel hates mind tampering. Ragnar saved Isobel with words; Isobel is thankful. Ragnar is better than other humans. Others stare at Isobel with disgust, Ragnar does not. Isobel likes this.'
It was rather touching, to see a Hagraven express gratitude towards me. It gave me some hope that other intelligent creatures could be reasoned with, like vampires who were turned against their wills. I'd rather not kill them on sight, they're victims cursed with a disease no one knows the cure to. Well, outside that one guy from Morthal but I have no idea if he already knows it at this point.
I should get him on my side; It would be a great bargaining chip to get vampires on my side if I could promise them that I had the cure for their vampirism. I'll set aside some gold septims that I have to persuade him to come over to me, it's not like those magickphobic citizens in Morthal careabout that guy. Hell, those townsfolk actively spread horrid rumors about the guy. It'll be easy to get him to move to Falkreath.
I grinned as I pushed my cart along the rocky road towards Falkreath, dozens of Silver ingots stacked perfectly as I went towards the city. With me were two of Gavnuks workers, who came along so that they could purchase some needed tools and supplies from Lod and some other vendors for our projects.
My beasts weren't with me, so I decided to leave a bit of trust in them and gave the task to stay by Isobels side until I called on them, until then they would listen to her as they would me. If they pass this test I'll give them some more freedom.
Once we spoke to the guards and reached the plaza we agreed to meet back at the Inn during the afternoon at the earliest. As they separated from me I continued down the main road towards Amelie's shop. Of course, I stopped and chatted with those who came up to me, nothing more than brief conversations but I did learn about something interesting. Apparently, one lone merchant managed to travel all the way here and spread the word to everyone that Markarth is going through a bit of a rough time right now, something about the Forsworn going absolutely ballistic.
How she managed to get through that was astounding, considering how the Forworn are fucking savages that attack any and every one on sight, regardless if they even live in Markarth or not.
Eventually, I made my way towards Amelie's shop and opened the door to an…interesting sight, to say the least.
Amelie turned towards me as she handed Neyna some of the Silver ingots I sold her no longer than two weeks ago, her face paling a bit as Neyna dropped some gold septims in her hand. Turning around, Neyna paused as she spotted me in the doorway, my arms crossed with an eyebrow raised.
"Ragnar! I thought you were coming in later this week?" Amelie questioned, a nervous tilt to her voice, the kind of tone where you know you got caught doing something you weren't supposed to do.
"Well," I spoke, my tone as flat as the floor under my boots. "My boys and I hit a large vein and I decided to come early like our terms say I can." A dry amused smile played on my lips, "Didn't expect to see this though, peddling off my Silver are we?"
Neyna coughed, my eyes flickered over to her as she started speaking. "I can assure you Mr. Ragnar that Amelie here isn't selling your Silver to anyone other than the Jarl, which she signed an Agreement to do so-"
"Just go, Neyna." Amelie interrupted.
Neyna looked back at Amelie, surprised that she interrupted her attempt to defend her. Huffing a bit, she walked past me and out the door. Now alone with Amelie, my posture relaxed just a tad.
"When did this even start, Amelie?" I questioned.
She slumped over and sighed, "The same day Sinding disappeared." She didn't notice the subtle shift in my posture at the mention of his name. "Neyna had come by and had given me an offer from the Jarl himself. I would give him 20% of the ingots you sell me, and in turn he would lower the income tax I would owe him every year by 15%."
"What was I supposed to do, deny it?!" She waved her hand around, to emphasize how ridiculous that notion was. "I couldn't! The deal was from Siddgeir himself; I've heard the horror stories from retired shopkeepers, my business couldn't afford to not accept that offer – no," she shook her head, "Calling it an offer would imply that I had a choice. I couldn't afford to deny that demand from Siddgeir. If I did, my business wouldn't last after the next tax season."
I let out a deep sigh and brushed my hair back with my right hand, "You could have just told me, you know?"
Amelie looked so small as she turned away ashamed, her eyes flickering to mine and the floor under her. "I didn't want to upset you."
I snorted, "I'm not upset at you, I'm upset at myself and at the Jarl. I spent all that time wondering if I could sell to other people when I should have just followed your example and not told you and did it anyway."
Amelie's lips quirked up slightly. "I don't know if you would have been as discrete as me, Ragnar."
I raised an eyebrow, a smirk on my lips as smug as the tone of my voice. "I beg to differ, I'm rather good at keeping secrets, Amelie."
Amelie let out a little laugh, "Sure you are." She shook her head, amused. A comfortable silence settled between us, tensions low and readily disappearing at our banter.
"sooo…" Amelie trailed off, unsure. "Are we…good?"
I reached out for a hug which she granted me easily. I rested my chin on her head as I spoke, "Yeah, we're good."
We stayed like that for a bit, basking in the silence as we stayed in our friendly embrace.
"I hope you know I'm going to sell my ingots to other people now."
She hummed, "Not like I have any right to say no. Just, please don't sell to the other jewelers?"
I snorted, "Like I'd actively support your competition."
She smiled. "Good."
"…I'm still charging you full price."
"OI!"
(-)
I stayed around for another hour or so to talk, I had the time. After selling her the contracted amount of the ingots, I went to Lod and offered to sell him the rest of the ingots I brought with me. He agreed, paying 70 silver septims for each ingot he bought. More than 800 septims richer, I whistled as I walked around the market, buying enormous amounts of raw produce from all of the farmer stalls in the market district. I even had to buy a second cart to fit them all!
After many expenses later, and many happy shopkeepers later, I met back up with Gavnuks carpenters and we went back to the base.
After getting everything put away and depositing the rest of the septims in our treasury, the big ass basement under the base that couldn't be accessed by anyone but me (given that I have the only key to the door and no one knew where the entrance was but Gavnuk and I), I decided that enough time has passed and it was time to roll the Gacha again. Last time I did it I had pulled a wonderful piece of armor, rest in peace my beloved illusion armor, so I'm hoping I get some good shit this time around.
I went upstairs to my room, ensuring that no one would see me as I closed the door. I collapsed on my bed, kicking my feet up as I brought out one of the two coins I collected from the raid. Grinning, I flipped the coin in the air, watching the shimmering gold coin disappear into light as the Game screen appeared again.
Rolling 1d100…
Rolling…
Rolling…
51 rolled!
Rare Item selected: Lyre of Building
Lyre of Building: A musical Lyre created by Zennithar for Thea Coldborn, one of his most loyal followers. This lyre plays an enchanting melody that invigorates anyone who hears it. Building homes and structures while the Lyre is being played becomes significantly faster. Can only be used if the user is an expert in playing the Lyre or Harp
A small white and gold Lyre appeared in my hands, I admired its beauty for a moment before putting it in my inventory. I can't use it at all, I'll have to get in contact with the Bards College if I ever want to use this thing, or find someone else with the ability to do this. Oh who am I kidding, what are the chances I just happen to stumble into someone with the ability to play the Lyre expertly.
Sighing, I grabbed the second Gacha coin and flipped it in the air.
Rolling 1d100…
Rolling…
Rolling…
84 rolled!
Legendary Item Selected: The Skeleton Key
The Skeleton Key: The artifact of the Daedra Nocturnal. This key can open anything, physical or conceptual. It is also the key to the Ebonmere, the conduit to the Evergloam where Nocturnal spreads luck into the realm of Nirn.
". . ."
(-)
A sudden crash echoed throughout Cracked Tusk Keep, an orc called Gavnuk raised his head from some detailed blueprints, watching as his leader and boss Ragnar stumbled down the stairs, his arms angled awkwardly as they tried to fit themselves through the loops of his backpack.
"…boss?" Gavnuk called out, confused.
"Don't worry Gavnuk!" Ragnar grunted out, the backpack finally secured around his shoulders, "Just returning a key I found!"
Gavnuk watched as his boss sprinted out of the door, the dust kicking up into the air as his leader sped off to who knows where.
"…alright then." He shook his head, still confused over whatever the hell just happened. "Ignoring that, let's get started guys. First, we're going to need to cut up all the logs we have into usable building materials and then…"
(-)
I stood outside the Twilight Sepulcher, panting slightly from the dead sprint I did to get here so fast. My hand gripping the Skeleton Key in my pocket as I calmed my beating heart.
This wasn't how I wanted to spend my fucking day, trudging through some temple made in Nocturnal's name, a place filled with decades old corrupted spirits who want to kill anything that moves in that bitch.
Whatever, I gotta do what I gotta do. I debated on just using the damned thing for like half a millisecond, but I didn't want to run the risk of incurring Nocturnal's wrath by having her artifact and not returning it to her when I was so close to where it belonged.
I did not need that kind of shit in my life.
I pushed open the small metal door and stepped inside the rather spacious cave. Large man made pillars and arches rose from the ground towards the cave ceiling, stone pits of fire blazing bright, illuminating the otherwise dark cavern. Stone steps rose upwards towards higher ground where a large circular doorway stood tall, guarding a passageway that led deeper into the Sanctum.
As I stepped closer towards the stairs a faint blue glow suddenly appeared, as I got closer the mass of color gained an ethereal form of a man, but I couldn't tell you any discerning features about him other than the outline of some sleek armor that he must have worn when he was alive.
The ghost reached down to a scabbard and grasped his blade's handle, ready to whip it out at a moment's notice to gut me like a fish.
"Leave this place. Outsiders are not welcome in Nocturnal's Sanctum." His surprisingly clear voice said, smooth and suave. The man's voice was the manifestation of the expression "silver tongue."
I grabbed the key in my pocket and took it out, twirling it around my finger as the spirit stopped his preemptive step forward once he saw my arm move. Stunned, the Spirit's hand drifted away from his sword's handle.
"Th-the Skeleton Key!" The spirit shouted with disbelief. "How? You couldn't have stolen it, Mercer Frey is too skilled of a thief to have anything stolen from him."
I chuckled, "I have my methods." My eyes trailed off to the large entrance behind him. "But I'd rather not have this thing in my possession longer than it needs to be."
The spirit laughed, "That would be a wise course of action young man." The ethereal being nodded at me, "I don't suppose the name Gallus means anything to you? Or perhaps…Karliah?"
I licked my lips; how do I answer this…
"I've heard of both, but I haven't met either personally."
Gallus shook his head, "Forget it, just the thoughts of an old soul." He somehow clapped his hands, "Now, let's send you off to return the key. Be wary however," he warned me, his tone as serious as can be, "The guardians here have been without the power of the Evergloam for quite a long time, twenty-four years to be exact. The power the Evergloam gives us is our lifeforce, and without it the spirits have gone mad."
I raised an eyebrow, "So then why haven't you gone mad?"
Gallus chuckled, "My spirit manifested not so long ago, the very act of the Evergloam closing was what kept me sane for so long, it took a long time for my spirit to form in the Sanctuary to fulfill my agreement to Nocturnal. Like I said, the Ebonmere is the conduit that gives these guardians the 'life' they need to guard this place. Without it, new spirits take decades to form to take their place, and without the source of their lifeforce the spirits still here start to go mad."
"How long do you have?" I asked.
Gallus cocked his head to the side, "I have to watch over the Sanctum for as long as I lived as a Nightingale, so another two decades of service to the Sepulcher is what I must serve before I become one with the shadows and watch over my thieving brothers and sisters."
Welp, that solidifies my decision to not become a god's damned Nightingale, like I'd want to spend decades of my afterlife guarding some dusty old sanctum just waiting to pass on.
Gallus stepped aside, gesturing me to walk forward. "I've taken up enough of your time, stranger. Go, return the key to its rightful place, if you ever need me I'll be here."
I nodded my head to the spirit and walked up the stairs, going past the man made pillars and arcs and headed deeper into the sanctum to the Pilgrims path.
My Saviors boots were truly a godsend in this place. The ability to make zero sound as I walked made it so easy to slip by the corrupted guardians that wandered about aimlessly. Once they would wander past me I would kill them, it would seem that the Evergloam gave these spirits a body that was almost 'physical' for lack of a better term, as a swipe from my axe would decapitate the spirits in one blow.
The pilgrim's path was rather easy, a repeated process of waiting and killing as I slowly made my way further and further in. The next challenge was the darkness trial. The games did this room no justice, it was pitch black, there wasn't a scrap of light barring some blazers scattered about that glowed with an eerie purple fire. I even tried to turn into my werebear form, but not even the limited night vision that form gave me could see anything.
Without my sight to guide me, I moved agonizingly slow as I barely shuffled forwards, not willing to trigger any unseen traps that could kill me. More than a few times did my legs scrape against unseen strings and large sections of the floor that could be pushed down, activating some trap no doubt like a swinging log.
The problem was that there were no goddamn walls or railings to stop me from going too far off the platforms I would be on. More than once I found myself almost slipping off because my foot would shuffle into open air, I even almost fell off once, and I was not willing to find out how far down the floor was.
When I step into the light caused by the purple flames, it actually hurts somehow, the kind of pain one feels when the doctor draws your blood with a syringe. And every time I left the radius of light I felt more drained, more tired and fatigued which made my journey take even longer. I hated this place. The complete darkness made me feel massively uncomfortable, and the only source of guidance would hurt me when I got near it.
I couldn't wait to restore the Ebonmere so that the fucking portal opens up and lets me just fast travel my way back to the beginning.
I managed to make it through after what felt like an hour of slow progress. Once I stumbled out of that disgusting place I sped towards the next challenge. The statue puzzle was a bit trickier than I remembered, mostly because I forgot where the lever was. But I found it all the same and continued forwards, skipping passed what I knew was a bunch of traps by using the skeleton key to open a locked iron door, killing the two sentinels of Nocturnal inside and walking around the entire thing, going through the final archway that took me to the final trial.
I was finally here, the last and final trial that would take me to the Ebonmere.
I stood over the edge of a large pit, at the bottom was a skeleton lying against the wall. The poor bastard must have starved, though it was on him for not having the one item required to progress further. Grunting, I jumped into the pit, squatting down as I landed to disperse the impact. A few moments passed in silence until I felt the platform underneath me rumble, shaking as it started to descend further into the earth.
Soon, I found myself in a small dark room, three clawlike stone carvings stood in a triangle formation that surrounded the circular platform I was currently standing on. On the walls were three, empty oval shaped archways that I recognized from the game as where the Evergloam portals would form.
Looking down at my feet, I noticed a small key opening had opened up without me noticing. Getting the hint, I grabbed the skeleton key and placed it inside, twisting it to the right like one would to open their house door.
Dark purple light sprung forth from the key, shining through the small gaps of space the key didn't take up from the lock. I scrambled back, careful not to get caught up in the middle of whatever was happening as a dark, thick purple miasma sprung forth like a fountain, filling up a little pool that completely covered the head of the skeleton key.
The viscous purple substance pooled out through little trenches in the ground, slowly forming a large circle that made up the circumference of the largeish room I found myself in. Portals slowly formed inside the oval archways I pointed out earlier, casting an eerie deep purple glow inside the room as they all filled up completely.
The shape of a being started to form over the pool of Evergloam. The swirling energy dispersed immediately, revealing Nocturnal in all her enchanting glory. Her skin, pale as the moon, contrasted heavily with her black robe. The cloak itself was black as night with gold trimmings and swirling embroideries, a long V neck cut into it where the hoodie portion of it met the shoulders, creating a large window that showed off her chest and a portion of her stomach. Underneath her hood revealed just the barest images of dark purple hair, so dark it was almost black. Her eyes opened, her lavender eyes dancing with mirth as she hovered in the center of the Ebonmere, the crows on her forearms glancing around curiously.
"Curious indeed~" The being said, her voice tinted with just the barest cocktail of both amused and surprised. "It was only three hours ago when I felt my key leave the clutches of the betrayer, and now it's back in my possession." Nocturnal hummed, "To think an unaffiliated mortal could accomplish what Karliah could not, punishment is in order indeed."
Nocturnal's body floated up, laying down as if on her stomach, her head resting in her hands as her feet kicked lazily about in the air; very much like how I would lay down on the floor to watch my Saturday morning cartoons when I was a child.
"But enough about her failures, your success was a surprise indeed. I had not anticipated this, which makes you so much more interesting. Tell me, what is your name?"
"My name is Ragnar, my lady."
"My lady, you say?" Nocturnal tittered, "how cute~" she floated closer to my face, her eyes roaming my face as she hummed. "Ah I see now, you're Hircine's champion are you not?"
I blinked, "Lord Hircine has talked about me?"
Nocturnal waved her hand dismissively, "My brother mentioned it off hand once, but that's not what I meant." She tapped my nose with one of her fingers, "But Boethia was quite… amused to see you kill her Champion so viciously." She chuckled at my brief spike of panic. "Worry not young mortal, my sister is not mad, quite the opposite in fact."
Before I could open my mouth to question, Nocturnal shook her head, "Enough of the pleasantries. You have returned my artifact faithfully to me when not asked, unlike my agents you did not act in accordance with your position. A…reward is in order, I believe."
Nocturnal hummed to herself, "Drinking from the Evergloam isn't allowed, I'm afraid. Those powers are reserved for my agents, and I doubt Hircine is willing to share, he's selfish like that." Her form idly floated around me, "What would be sufficient I wonder…"
"You have grand goals, if Hircine spoke true…" Nocturnal muttered. She floated in silence for a few moments, pondering. She nodded suddenly, coming to some decision. "This will work." She appeared before me, cupping my face with her hands as she opened her mouth, smoke pouring out of it and shooting up my nose. I squirmed slightly as she did, but didn't dare attempt to break away, I had no idea if that would be seen as an insult. When her mouth finally closed, only then did I dare to bring my fist to my mouth and cough slightly, purple and black smoke puffing out as I did.
Nocturnal has gifted you with the Skill: Fog of Evergloam!
Fog of Evergloam (1/5): You have the ability to release a copious amount of Fog made of Evergloam, straight from Nocturnal's realm. This fog cannot be blown away by magical means, and enemy forces cannot see more than 3 feet in front of them. You and your allies are unaffected by these effects. Cost: 300 Magicka
"That should be effective, no?" Nocturnal patted my cheek, "Go forth with my gift, Ragnar. And know that I watch favorably over you, always."
Nocturnal floated back to the Ebonmere and disappeared with a wave. Leaving me alone in the glowing room.
I breathed out a sigh of relief, noticing with amusement that faint amounts of fog flew out of my mouth too, merely wisps of it from the corners of my mouth. That might take a bit of getting used to.
I looked around, confused as I didn't actually know which portal I needed to go through to get back to the entrance. I shrugged and walked through the closest one to me, and I found myself in a place somewhere different than I expected. I looked behind me, the portal was still there, but I was no longer at the starting room of the Twilight Sepulcher. Instead I believe I'm at the place where the Dragonborn, Karliah, and Brynjolf become the Nightingales during the Thieves' guild questline…
You have killed 10 Twilight Sepulcher guardians!
You have gained 500XP
You have leveled up! +2SP! +1PP!
I put both SP immediately into my DEX stat, and now that I had four PP I could level up Skillfully Proficient to level four, which I did immediately
The sound of rapid footsteps in the hallway alerted me to another presence. I turned around, just in time to see a man skid to a stop in the doorway. He was wearing dark brown and black leather armor, but surprisingly wore no hood. He had a rather handsome face, a five o'clock shadow with a permanent scowl on his face. Two hard chestnut brown eyes bored into me that accentuated his shoulder length, swept back dirty brown hair. He took out his sword, a Glass sword that glowed with a misty aura and held It in one hand, the other grasping a dagger that was strapped to his side.
"So you're the one who stole the Key from me…" the man whispered, his tone bare and only a shred above that of anger. "I don't know how you did it, but you were a fool to return it to Nocturnal. I know exactly where it is now, and all I need to do is kill you to get to it."
(Mercer Frey, four hours earlier)
"..and that's the numbers reported so far. We managed to score a few houses but a score of our members were spotted retreating from the scene. None were caught, but they only managed to just barely evade getting captured."
That was the report given to me by Brynjolf to me. I sighed, running my hand through my dirty hair as I viewed the reports and payments we received from our clients.
"Alright Bryn, get the members to their beds. They've earned a good rest after their heists. And while you're at it you can get some rest too, you've been up for two days now." I ordered.
Brynjolf let out a breath of relief as he waved goodbye to me, heading towards the quarters he, Vex, and Delvin shared. Glancing around the hidden sanctum of the Thieves guild, I smirked as no one was around. I slicked away towards the vault, ready to steal some more of the guild's treasure and stash it away.
'I mean really, the guild has been declining for decades now. Once I find out where those blasted falmer eyes are I'm getting the fuck out of here. Maybe I'll go to Hammerfell, I've always appreciated the attire those women wear.'
The cause of our decline was a mystery to those in the guild, Vex and Bryn have no clue but Delvin believes it's something that cursed us. The guild members mock him for it. Of course, never to his face, Delvin would have made them shit bricks if they did, but it's always behind his back. Out of sight, out of mind, out of hearing distance.
If only they knew how close he was to the truth.
'And I don't regret it either,'' I thought as I walked closer to the vault, my hand reaching down to a hidden pouch inside my armor where I kept the skeleton key I rightfully stole. 'For all her talk, Nocturnal should have seen that the leader of a THIEVES guild would go after the one god's damned artifact that could open anything. How arrogant.'
I scoffed, Nocturnal was mad if she thought I wouldn't go for it when the opportunity showed itself. If only Gallus hadn't butted his nose in where it didn't fucking belong, then maybe he'd still be alive. Thank the gods that the guild was too stupid to see that Karliah would never have killed her lover.
Either that or it was their racism. I couldn't deny that quite a bit of our former members were anti-Dunmer. I'm almost glad Karliah killed them as she escaped the base, but those fools were damned good at shilling.
I chuckled as I reminisced at the guild's glory days as I walked up to the vault doorway. I glanced behind me one more time, double checking that I was alone. The coast clear, I reached into my breast pocket to grab the key.
'What in the?'
I patted the pocket, and there was nothing. Confused, I patted down my outfit to see if I put it somewhere else by mistake.
I still felt nothing.
I spun around and marched back to my desk. I must have left it there, there's no other place I could have put it. I don't trust anywhere else.
It wasn't on the desk, it wasn't in the drawers, it wasn't in the secret compartment of my desk either.
'WHERE IS IT?!'
I tore apart my desk, ripping out papers and trinkets to see if it was just hidden, but it wasn't! It was no where, where the fuck did I leave it?!
I rushed to the center of the room and checked the water, I could have dropped it there couldn't I have?!
It wasn't in the damn water.
I spent the next FOUR hours scouring the damned place, checking every shelf, every chest, every corner, every article of clothing, EVERYTHING! But I couldn't find it, it wasn't possible! I slammed my hands on my desk, my eyes bloodshot with anger. I never let that damned thing out of my sight, how could it be gone?!
"NGH!" An enormous amount of pain smashed into my head as I collapsed, my body barely standing as I hunched over with my elbows on my desk, my hands clutching my skull as I rode out the pain.
I gasped as the pain resided, but I immediately knew something was wrong. The strength I've been so accustomed to for the past twenty-four years was gone. Tricks that I knew with such clarity were now fleeting thoughts, knowledge once known now forgotten.
'What the hell just happened! I haven't felt like this since…since…'
A sudden rush of clarity filled my very soul. The key. I haven't felt this weak since before I had unlocked my limits with the key. That agonizing pain was that power leaving me, and if it's gone, that can only mean one thing.
The key was back at the Twilight Sepulcher.
I snarled and strapped Chillrend around my back. I don't know how this happened, but I do know that the Nightingale's hiding hole outside of Riften could teleport to the sanctum. It closed when I originally took the key, but if my guess is correct and the key was returned then I can easily walk back through that portal and retrieve it again.
I exited the Thieves guild and snuck my way out of the city, sneaking around towards the big rock that the Nords 'Shadow Stone' rested on. I pulled on the secret lever and a portion of the rocky face descended into the ground, revealing the Nightingales sanctuary.
I slipped inside and closed the doorway on my way in. I ran, silent as the night as I rushed through the forgotten cave. Once I neared the portal I skidded to a stop, blinking as I watched a tall Nord man turn around to me, his long blond hair miraculously not getting in the way of his blue eyes. My eyes trailed down, noticing his sophisticated hunters gear and large muscles. I noticed an axe strapped to his side, steel from the looks of it, but no sign of a bow.
I snarled, so this must have been the man who stole Nocturnal's key from me. I hefted Chillrend in front of me, her enchantment glowing with power.
"So you're the one who stole the Key from me…" I whispered, my voice carrying the promise of pain. "I don't know how you did it, but you were a fool to return it to Nocturnal. I know exactly where it is now, and all I need to do is kill you to get to it."
The Nord man raised an eyebrow, his deep voice laced with amusement as he looked down on me. "And how exactly do you plan to do that, little man? I've killed people far stronger than you, you aren't even in the top three."
I narrowed my eyes and activated the power Nocturnal gave me so long ago. My eyes glowed, watching as a red haze seeped into the Nords body. Smirking, I rushed forward, my sword slashing forward with perfected execution. Just one hit from Chillrend and this guy will be shattered into a thousand, tiny pieces!
(Nocturnal)
"Oi, Nocturnal!" I heard the Nord's voice call out to me. It was naught but the faintest of whispers, but to hear it so clearly must mean that Ragnar was back in the Twilight Sepulcher.
'Did the lard not know how to get back?'
As much as I was amused with the little human, it wouldn't surprise me. Hircine wasn't known to choose the…smartest of champions. His last one, Tsajira I think he was called, being the most egregious of them.
Apparently he had killed someone called "The Mane," but silly little human terms never mattered much to me, and none with positions of authority mattered unless they were wealthy. I'll leave those silly trivial things for Boethia to care about. Sighing, I gathered up my power and manifested myself back at the Sanctum.
"What is it Rag- Oh? Oh ho ho~, a wondrous surprise indeed~"
Slumped over Ragnar's shoulders was that treacherous filth Mercer Frey, coughing his lungs out with both of his arms broken. I eagerly floated towards him, reveling as the traitor flinched at my presence.
"Two gifts in one day, Ragnar? You sure know how to treat a woman~"
The little human blinked. "I thought Daedra could choose their gend-"
I pushed a finger to his lips, "Shshshshhhh, little human. Take the compliment as is." I chuckled darkly, "In a matter of 10 minutes you've managed to gift me not only my key, but the worm who stole it in the first place. You're already proving to be much more reliable than Karliah." I patted his cheek, "Such a Good boy you are."
The human shifted in place, blinking slowly in a moment of clarity, "…Well I just learned something new about myself. Huh."
Ignoring his muttering, my gaze eagerly lingered on Mercer's heaving form. "You may go now, Ragnar. I've been looking forward to teaching this little parasite to know their place for some time now~"
"…W-"
"And before you ask!" I interrupted him as I pointed a finger to the right of me, "That portal is the one to the entrance. Feel free to stop by anytime, Ragnar. I may have some tasks you can do for me, and if you prove yourself competent I'll see fit to…reward you." I licked my lips sensually, letting the little human's mind wander at what exactly I meant by that.
"Now, shoo. Shoo," I waved him off with my hands, practically pushing him through the portal back to the start of the Sepulcher. My attention turned back to Mercer Frey, the little insect doing his best to stand up and look tough, but without his silly little sword he looked even more like the maggot I always knew he was.
I called upon my power that still surged through him, levitating him upside towards me. Seeing the arrogant little human cower in my presence sent a surge of satisfaction in me.
"…I am going to have so much fun with you~"
I ignored his panicked screaming as we sank into the Ebonmere back to my realm of Evergloam, my cackles silencing his screams as our heads disappeared from the mortal realm into my realm of Oblivion.
I'll make sure that today was the last day anyone ever saw Mercer Frey again.
Name: Ragnar
Race: Nord
Level: 22
EXP: 430/ 1,150
Health: 280 Magicka: 510 Stamina: 270
STR: 20 (26)
INT: 40 (51)
END: 22 (28)
DEX: 24 (27)
SP: 0
PP: 0
Land Controlled:
Falkreath (›)
[+6 STR, +6 END, +11 INT, +3 DEX]
People under your leadership:
Happy: 67
Neutral: 53
Unhappy: 0
Is mai borthday so I decided to release a chapter today, aren't I just so generous?