Twilight shivered, shaking her head to try and remove the bleary film from her vision. "W-wha… What happened?" The unicorn rubbed at her eyes with her foreleg, her heart sinking when she took in her surroundings: She was locked in a cell with iron bars, the floor of her prison lined with a thin layer of hay, dim candlelight from outside the cell glistening off of the stony walls. Sharing the dank cell with her was a crumbling skeleton of a bipedal creature, its wrists rotting away in rusting shackles chained to the wall; Twilight fought back bile, the horrid sight and the mildewy smell of rotting hay almost proving too much for her.
A dark chuckle rumbled from a corner of the room outside of the iron prison, and Twilight turned in time to see a dark-skinned man with red eyes and pointed ears stand from a chair, his arms crossing over the front of his black robes and a fiendish grin slithering across his features. "Oh, lovely; you're finally awake. I was worried that those buffoons had killed you; I want the pleasure of taking your horn when you can feel it."
Urgak sighed, hefting the duffel bag of wood chips, hearing the few dozen Septims mixed in give a cheerful jingle. "I think this is a bad idea; Greymoor's home t' at least thirty bandits." The Orc stared at Haran and Aendal as they marched over the rolling hills and boulders of Whiterun Hold, making their way toward the massive, derelict military outpost on the horizon. "One'a you idiots might get hurt." A chuckle escaped his tusked maw as he shook the bag.
Aendal and Haran shared an unamused glance before staring back at the green-skinned warrior, the reptile's mouth splitting open in a sharp grin. "Right; that's why you're the diversion, Urgak. We need you to keep the bandits' attention so that my arrows can pierce their necks."
The Bosmer and Orsimer gave Haran a concerned stare, Aendal simply shaking his head and crouching into the tall grass as they prepared to cross the road. Shadows overtook the field as the twin moons were hidden by a thick blanket of clouds; Aendal gave a silent thanks to Nocturnal for this boon as they crossed the road, watching as Urgak marched for the main gate.
Fort Greymoor was a massive, dilapidated stone structure nestled in the hills just due-West of Whiterun. Some years ago, the structure had been outfitted with wooden catwalks, stairways and barricades to supplement its crumbling stone structure. On the ramparts and turrets were positioned poorly-disguised sacks of rice, held up on sticks and covered with buckets and boards, made to look like soldiers at a distance. The Orc shook his head, sighing as he worked his way around the spiked barricades on the road leading into the entrance of the fortress.
Aendal and Haran crept up the Eastern side of the fort, pressing themselves up against the wooden wall as they tried to silently make their way around to a weak spot in one of the turrets. Haran expertly climbed the crumbling section of stone and rubble, managing to avoid making even the smallest of sounds as he climbed to the top of the rubble pile, pulling his hood up to blend into the shadows. The Bosmer, however, slipped on a bit of shale on his way up the pile, barely avoiding rolling down the hill.
"What was that?" One of the bandits, a young woman clad in furs and strong-looking leather armor quickly jogged over to the edge of the wooden rampart, looking over the wall, her iron broadsword drawn. After a moment of looking around, her eyes narrowed, focusing on movement behind one of the many boulders lining the area surrounding the fortress. "What..." Her grip tightened on her blade, readying herself for a fight just as from out of the shadows stepped… A rabbit. "A… Rabbit. It was just a rabbit." She breathed a sigh of relief, sheathing her blade and turning on her heel, walking back on the wooden catwalk behind the thatch-roofed structure of the fortress' smithy. Thud! Once she'd reached the shadows behind the smithy, Haran felled her, his arrow jutting out of the base of her neck, having pierced her spine.
Urgak sighed, his armor rattling loudly as he marched into the fortress' courtyard, leaving his claymore sheathed on his back as he stood in the center and rattling the bag of "coins." When he spoke, he garnered the attention of every single bandit in the fortress, all of them drawing their blades and bows. "Oi! Listen up! One'a you ugly skeevers has my unicorn, an' I'd like her back." His voice was dripping with frustration as he dropped the bag of coins, the real Septims inside the bag rattling loud enough for it to be convincing. "Ten-thousand Septims, as you asked. Now, bring 'er out where I can see her!"
One of the bandits, dressed in naught but simple burlap clothing, crossed his arms over his chest, a scowl twisting his scarred face. "A'roight, hang on jus' a blasted second. I'll get th' boss." The man turned on his heel, opening the large wood and iron door that led to the fortress' keep, disappearing into the hallway beyond.
The purple unicorn cowered in one corner of her cell, unable to avert her eyes from the unrolled container of sharp instruments the gray-skinned man had pulled from a chest that lay flush against the back wall of the room. "Ah, yes… Lord Hircine will surely reward me for bringing him fresh unicorn horn…" The robed man picked up a small handsaw, turning it over and narrowing his eyes. "No, this won't do… Need something sharper."
The room's entrance burst open, a rag-clad Nord jogging across the room and dropping to a knee in front of the terrifying man with red eyes. "Boss! We go' us a green-skin outside; he said he brought ten thousand Septims for the Unicorn." A wide grin split across the Nord's face as he rose to his feet. "We c'n afford to outfit the boys with quality gear, with that kin'a money!"
The robed Elf turned and glared at the Nord as he spoke, impatiently twirling a scalpel about in his fingers. "And… Whose idea was it, then, to hold the Unicorn for ransom? This creature was supposed to be an offering to Lord Hircine, you bumbling idiot! Not some cash-cow! Now there's a bloody Orc in my fortress?" As his volume increased, so did the amount of spittle flying from his mouth as he shouted down the Nord.
Twilight's eyes went wide when he mentioned the Orc in the vicinity, a slow smile creeping across her lips. They came! They've come to rescue me!
"Boss, I, but…" The Nord was interrupted in his blubbering apology when that scalpel closed the gap between the two bipeds, burying itself in the man's neck. The Elf strode up to him, grasped the handle of the scalpel and dragged it down, effectively cutting open the Nord's carotid artery; a fountain of life-blood spilled from his throat, and Twilight turned her head to vomit into the pile of hay on the floor of her cell.
Aendal narrowed his eyes, holding his breath as one of the bandits worked the small forge in the courtyard. Thwip! The iron-tipped arrow flew from his bow, narrowly missing the bandit's head as he bent down to dip a hot blade into the cooling trough. Nobody seemed to notice as the arrow sank quietly into the dirt nearby; a grumble of frustration escaped Aendal's throat as he knocked back another arrow, his bow creaking softly as it bent with the force of the string. Another arrow was launched forward just before the bandit crouched down to pick his hammer up from the ground, the deadly missile sinking into the ground next to its brother. The Bosmer clenched his fist, growling in frustration as he brought that string back again; just as the third arrow was about to pierce the bandit's skull, he slipped on a patch of slick mud, falling back onto the ground. "Oh COME ON!" Aendal stood, throwing his hands in the air.
The Argonian sitting in the shadows next to him shook his head, running a scaled hand down his snout and knocking an arrow back. "Wonderful job of staying undetected, Elf. Why don't you stick to hunting bears, and let the professional hunt the people?" Haran chuckled, rounded the corner and loosed an arrow; the missile flew forward, arcing down into the blacksmith's thigh as he started to run toward Aendal, sword in hand.
Urgak watched as the Nord ran inside, a scowl twisting his scarred features. Something didn't smell right about this; maybe it was the fact that he was surrounded by roughly thirty bandits. He stood there for several minutes, glancing about and trying to size up the other potential combatants; archers on the walls, swordsmen on the stairs and in the courtyard, several with warhammers. Great. And the only backup he had was a pair of archers that could only immediately cover a section of the wall and courtyard. The Orc glanced to the nearest bandit, a man clad in studded leather armor, a steel broadsword strapped to his hip. "What's keepin' your boy s' lo-" Aendal's shout made Urgak cringe and shake his head. "Shit."
The dark-skinned Elf wiped the blood from his scalpel onto his robes, then turned to Twilight and gave her a wicked smile. "Looks like you've got some back-up. It's a shame they won't last a minute against my complement of thirty men. Now, where were we..? Ah, yes. Removing that beautiful horn of yours…" He approached Twilight's cage, unlocked the door with a key ring he'd pulled from his robes pocket, and twirled his scalpel about in his fingers. "Now, I promise… This is going to hurt. A lot." The Elf reached out as Twilight cowered back into the corner of the cell, his fingers curled in her mane and he forced her head back. Just as his scalpel was about to pierce her flesh, there was a bright flash of light, and Twilight was no longer in his hands.
"You're not putting your filthy claws on my horn!" She snorted, bucking the cell's door shut and using her magic to break the lock in place. "You can stay in there forever, for all I care!" A tear rolled down her cheek, and the unicorn pony galloped toward the large double-doors at the far end of the hall, shoving them open with magic. Twilight opened her eyes when the fresh, cold night air hit her face and burned her lungs, and time seemed to slow as she took in the sight before her.
"I told you idiots, this was a bad idea!" Urgak bellowed, as his claymore cleaved through a bandit's leg, dropping the poorly-armored foe to the ground. When the Orc's boot came down on him, his head made a sickening pop! The Orc stumbled as a mace sank into his back, wincing as the spikes dented his armor. His eyes widened, and he whirled around, the pommel of his claymore bashing the assailant in his cheekbone. "This's exactly what I wanted t' avoid!" That claymore spun in his hand and sank into the downed opponent's neck, spilling his precious lifeblood in a fast-growing puddle on the cold ground.
Aendal grunted as he ducked, a longsword slicing a few hairs from the top of his head. The Bosmer swung his bow at his assailant's ankles, tripping him up for long enough that the Elf was able to draw an arrow from his quiver, sinking the iron-tipped shaft into the bandit's eye. "Yeah, well, best laid plans and all that! Just shut up and watch out for the guy behind you!" The Elf's brow furrowed as he pried the sword from his felled opponent's hand, twirling it in his fingers and snapping the length of the blade to his right, the tip of the sword cutting a swath through a bandit's cheek. The man stumbled back and reached up to feel the hole in his face, the look of shock frozen in his eyes as an arrow pierced his heart.
"If you'll kindly stop playing with the enemy, Aendal, I'd like to get this finished as soon as possible." The Argonian leapt from the shadows, landed on one bandit's back and drove the man into the ground. "Really, Elf. You should finish them as quickly as possible. Like this." Haran gripped the Nord by the hair on the back of his head and pulled him back, slamming his face into a rather jagged bit of rubble until the only sounds the Nord made were muffled gurgles as his blood spilled onto the ground. The Argonian fished a dagger from the Nord's boot, a smirk crossing his scaly features as he turned the blade over in his hand. "This will do…"
Twilight's breathing slowed, becoming shallow and ragged as she watched her newfound friends cut a bloody swath through the bandits of Fort Greymoor, having to bite back bile as she watched Haran slam a man's face into the ground. This was… Wrong. There was no need for anypony to have to do this, especially not on her account. Twilight closed her eyes, fighting back tears as she listened to the bandits' cries for mercy, when suddenly someone nearby screamed. It was a shrill, blood-curdling thing that chilled her bones; in a moment of clarity, Twilight came to a realization: She was the one screaming. The Unicorn looked down, only to see the shaft of an arrow protruding from her foreleg, blood soaking into her fur and dribbling onto the cobblestone beneath her hooves.
For the Unicorn pony, the world seemed to stop entirely. The clangs of steel and screams of battle quieted, and everyone had frozen still. Her eyes gleamed a brilliant white, and an equally bright light erupted from the Unicorn's horn, enveloping the entirety of Fort Greymoor. Tears streamed down her cheeks, the drops mingling with the blood at her hooves as her magical essence poured forth from her horn.
Aendal looked up from his felled opponent, drawing his blade from the bandit's chest when he heard the blood-chilling scream. His eyes met Twilight just as a blinding flash of white emanated from her horn, robbing him of his sight for a few moments. When his sight was returned to him, he was greeted with a horrid sight: every bandit, living or dead had been burnt to a cinder. Some still lived, though not for much longer than he had time to glance, blood bubbling from their ears and eyes as they cooked from the inside out.
The Bosmer grimaced, worry furrowing his brow as he charged forward, dropping his sword to the ground as he sprinted toward the Unicorn. Twilight's horn flashed again, the ground in front of Aendal erupting into a wall of flame for a brief second; this did not stop him, as he rolled through the flames, jumping over burnt corpses to reach his quarry. His boots clomped loudly on the cobblestone for a few brief moments until he was upon Twilight, his arms wrapped tightly around the Unicorn pony's neck. "Shh, shh…" His hands glowed a light green as he stroked her back and her mane, his cheek pressed to hers. "There's no need to be afraid, anymore, Twilight… Stop this. You need to be calm, dear."
Twilight's body went rigid for a moment, the light that spilled from her eyes dimming to a dull glow. After a moment she went limp, sobbing loudly and collapsing against Aendal, her energy spent. "A-Aendal, it… It h-hurts! T-take it out!" Tears streamed forth from her eyes, the pony risking a glance at her foreleg; her sobs only grew stronger when she saw the arrow was still there.
The Bosmer gave a sigh of relief, glancing back to Urgak and Haran, who both stood dumbstruck in the middle of the courtyard. "Haran! Bring me a healing potion, now!" The Argonian shook his head to clear the fog from his thoughts and ran to Aendal, his potion bag in his hand.
Haran removed a small, red bottle from his bag and handed it to the Bosmer, who looked Twilight in the eyes. "Now, Twilight – I need you to close your eyes, okay? This is going to hurt. A lot." The familiarity of those words made the Unicorn cringe as he wrapped his fingers around the shaft of the arrow, then pressed his forehead to Twilight's, and yanked the missile from her leg. She cried out, her voice hitching, before Aendal pressed the now-open bottle of red liquid to Twilight's lips. "Drink." The Unicorn downed the bottle's contents, watching in amazement as the wound on her leg slowly began to heal.
"That's… Amazing. It doesn't even hurt anymore!" The Unicorn looked to Aendal, then down to the arrow in his hand. "That… Hurt, a lot more than I'd expected." Twilight grimaced, looking out to the field of burnt corpses and dismembered limbs, her vision fogging as her eyes filled with tears. "D-did I… Do that?" If Twilight hadn't already been using Aendal for support, she would have simply collapsed in a heap on the ground, despair overwhelming her. As the acrid, sulfuric stench of burning flesh burned her nostrils, her feelings of despair quickly turned to ones of fear and anguish, as her mind was filled with her memories of the burnt-out town she passed through when she first arrived in Skyrim. Suddenly, everything went black.
Twilight slowly opened her eyes, mumbling something incoherent as she stumbled to her hooves, taking in her surroundings through hazy vision. There was a small fire blazing a few feet away, where Aendal was roasting some small animal on a spit. Urgak was sleeping on a bedroll against the wall of the small alcove they'd taken shelter in, and Haran was sitting on a rock, reading a book. Wait just a second. "H-Haran! Is that… Is that what I think it is?" She disappeared in a bright flash of light, and reappeared next to a very startled Argonian, reading over his shoulder, her eyes lit up with elation. "A book! I haven't seen one of these since I left Equestria!" She reared back on her hind legs, clapping her front hooves together. "You have to let me read it when you're done! I haven't read a book in days!"
The Argonian assassin laughed, his coarse voice grating on Twilight's ears. "This is one of the two I have, and I'm on my fifth read-through. You can read it now, if you'd like." He snapped the hard-covered volume shut, holding it out to the Unicorn.
Twilight squeaked, a purple aura enveloping the book as she took hold of it with her magic, her eyes scanning over the cover. "Wabbajack… Sounds like a good read!" She gingerly set the book down, then wrapped her forelegs around Haran in a tight hug. "!" After she was given the most horrifying glare she'd ever seen in her life, Twilight quietly shrank back and opened the book, scooting off to a corner of their alcove to read.
"Little boys shouldn't summon up the forces of eternal darkness unless they have an adult supervising, I know, I know. But on that sunny night on the 5th of First Seed, I didn't want an adult. I wanted Hermaeus Mora, the Daedra of knowledge, learning, gums, and varnishes. You see, I was told by a beautiful, large breasted man who lived under the library in my home town that the 5th of First Seed was Hermaeus Mora's night. And if I wanted the Oghma Infinitum, the book of knowledge, I had to summon him. When you're the new king of Solitude, every bit of knowledge helps.
Normally, you need a witch's coven, or a Mage's Guild, or at least matching pillow case and sheets to invoke a prince of Oblivion. The Man Under the Library showed me how to do it myself. He told me to wait until the storm was at its height before shaving the cat. I've forgotten the rest of the ceremony. It doesn't matter.
Someone appeared who I thought was Hermaeus Mora. The only thing that made me somewhat suspicious was Hermaeus Mora, from what I read, was a big blobby multi-eyed clawed monstrosity, and this guy looked like a waistcoated banker. Also, he kept calling himself Sheogorath, not Hermaeus Mora. Still, I was so happy to have successfully summoned Hermaeus Mora, these inconsistencies did not bother me. He had me do some things that didn't make any sense to me (beyond the mortal scope, breadth, and ken, I suppose), and then his servant happily gave me something he called the Wabbajack. Wabbajack. Wabbajack. Wabbajack.
Wabbajack. Wabbajack. Wabbajack.
Wabbajack. Wabbajack. Wabbajack.
Maybe the Wabbajack is the Book of Knowledge. Maybe I'm smarter because I know cats can be bats can be rats can be hats can be gnats can be thats can be thises. And that doors can be boars can be snores can be floors can be roars can be spores can be yours can be mine. I must be smart, for the interconnective system is very clear to me. Then why, or wherefore do people keep calling me mad?
Wabbajack. Wabbajack. Wabbajack."
Twilight closed the book, blinked a few times, then slumped her head onto the dirt floor. That was easily the single most disturbing, confusing thing she'd ever read; it also had an air of familiarity about it that brought the Treatise on Daedric Princes to mind. Wow. I'd totally forgotten about that book... Why does 'Sheogorath' sound so familiar..? As she pondered this, Twilight didn't notice that Aendal had walked up behind her; the sudden pressure of his hand on her back made her yelp, jerking forward and turning to face the Elf, her cheeks turning red. "I, uhm. I knew it was you."
Aendal chuckled, smiling at Twilight as he crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm glad to see you're doing okay. How's the leg?"
Twilight looked down at her leg, and only the blood matted to her fur betrayed the fact that she'd been injured. "It's… Fine, actually. No pain or anything. That potion did wonders; thank you, again, for helping me." She smiled up at Aendal, sitting back on her haunches.
The Elf shrugged, leaning back against the alcove's wall. "Was no trouble. You did kind of save our skin. Again." He shuddered, remembering exactly what she'd done to those bandits. Nightmares had troubled his sleep during the night, recalling the eyes bubbling from the bandits' heads.
The Unicorn frowned, tears welling in her eyes. "I don't take pride in what I did to everypony. That was… Horrible. If it never happens again, it'll be too soon." She sniffed and reached up to wipe her tears away. "I… Think I'm going to need some armor, if I'm going to keep travelling with you. That arrow really hurt."
Aendal nodded, and a smirk crossed his features. Good; she was learning. "I believe that's a possibility – we're going to head for Rorikstead once Urgak's done sleeping." The Elf glanced down at the novel at Twilight's hooves, quirking a brow. "What're you reading, one of Haran's books? Careful, he reads the weird stuff." He glanced over his shoulder to see Haran smoking his pipe and reading another book. "I'm gonna go do some scouting. Keep an eye on him for me, will you? Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid while I'm gone."
The Argonian gave a quiet huff, smoke billowing from his nostrils. "I may not have ears like yours, Elf, but that does not make me deaf." The reptile snapped his book shut, setting his pipe aside on a patch of dirt. "If you want some scouting done, maybe you should send someone whom isn't in the habit of being spotted by the enemy." He gave a gruff chuckle, stood from his seat and drew his bow, bringing his hood over his red-feathered head. "I will return in less than an hour." Haran slinked out of the alcove, disappearing into the tall grass outside.
Twilight blinked, then glanced up to Aendal, her hoof scratching the ground. "So… I'd forgotten a small detail, until I read a bit of Haran's book." To the Elf's quirked brow, she reached up and rubbed at her mane, avoiding his gaze. "I, um… Sort of conjured Clavicus Vile in Ponyville, and asked him for the opportunity to get infinite knowledge. He dumped me here, and told me to look for something called… I think he called it an 'Elder Scroll.' What is that?"
Aendal's normally tanned face turned as pale as a linen sheet as the blood drained from his features. "You… You wished for something from Clavicus Vile and survived? I'm… Impressed. Most people end up dead. Or worse." The Bosmer pushed away from the wall and knelt down in front of Twilight, placing a hand atop her head. "I have no idea what an Elder Scroll is, dear. However, I have a friend who might know a thing or two, up in Winterhold." He smirked as the shock bled from his mind, a chuckle escaping his lips. "You'd like him. He's a librarian."
Urgak grumbled, the sunlight forcing him to place a hand over his brow to see properly. "Now, someone wanna explain t'me why we're goin' to Rorikstead? Ain't anything there but a bunch'a poor farmers. Ain't nobody to give us coin; we should be goin' back to Whiterun to work for that old man. Vampire huntin' pays good."
Twilight narrowed her eyes at Urgak, the hood of her wool cloak stretching up over her horn and casting shadows over her face. "I won't travel with you if you're going to hunt vampires. If they're anything like the vampire ponies our lore in Equestria talks about… I don't want anything to do with them. And that vampire at the cave almost killed all of you, if you recall."
The Orc stumbled a bit at her assessment of his combat skills, his face flushing a dark brown as his voice was raised. "And those lowly bandits managed to capture you, little miss spell-tosser. Twice!"
Without even batting an eye in his direction, Twilight shattered his confidence. "And I kept a bandit from chopping you into fillets, and kept a vampire from turning you into a thrall. Sounds like you and I are just about even, Urgak." The Unicorn huffed, trotting ahead to take to the front of the group with Aendal. "How far until Rorikstead?"
The Elf shrugged, pointing to a dot on the horizon. "A few hours' hike down this road. Not too far. I know a blacksmith there that can fit you for some greaves. Nothing too heavy, but a bit of leather armor will do more to stop an arrow than your flesh." He chuckled, turning his face to the sky; the sun's light warming his face as he smiled up at the cloudless, azure expanse. "Nice day out."
Twilight smiled as well, turning her gaze up to the sky. "Yeah; yeah it is." Her gaze travelled below the sunlit clouds, locking onto a massive, winged shape soaring through the sky. "…Is that a dragon?"
Aendal chuckled at the Unicorn's question, covering his brow with a hand as he glanced to where she was looking. "Twilight, there hasn't been a dragon in Tamriel in ove-" His face went pale as the winged shape swooped down about one hundred meters away from them, scooping up a large horse and its rider. "By Azura, that's a bloody dragon! RUN!"
The group broke into a collective sprint, their armor and gear rattling loudly as their boots pounded the earth. They ran for a mile before the dragon flew overhead, dropping the skeleton of the horse it had picked up in front of them, the scaled monster soaring off into the distance. The roar that emitted from its throat shook Twilight to her core, bringing old nightmares to the front of her mind. The Unicorn almost crashed into the massive pile of bones that now blocked the road, but she disappeared in a bright flash of light, reappearing on the other side.
"What is wrong with your dragons? The ones in Equestria don't do… Well, this!" She huffed and stamped her hooves on the ground, giving Aendal a frustrated look.
Everyone else simply stood there, dumbfounded. Dragons, in Skyrim? "I had heard rumors while we were in Whiterun, but I hadn't expected them to be true. This is... By the Hist, this is bad." Haran's brow furrowed as he tried to keep his gaze locked on the quickly-disappearing dragon. "Quickly, let's get out of here before it decides to come back."
Haran and Aendal kept their bows drawn as they marched for Rorikstead, arriving in only forty-five minutes; their dead sprint after spotting the dragon brought them a lot closer than they'd realized. Once they were within the borders of Rorikstead, Twilight used her magic to remove her hood, a smile on her face as she looked around the town. Dirt roads, stone homes with thatched roofs, large gardens and a field of what she assumed was cabbage. The small village brought a wide smile to her face and a tear to her eye, as images of home filled her head. "I'm not staying in the stable in this town." The Unicorn looked to Aendal, her brow quirked up.
The Elf chuckled and reached over to pat Twilight's head, nodding. "That's fine; this town isn't walled off. We can probably get them to think you're my Familiar or something. Before we do anything, though, I have to go to the smithy to discuss your armor. Feel free to come with, or wander about and do your own thing; just make sure to yell for us if you get into trouble. Okay?" He gave Twilight a worried smile, and the Unicorn nodded in agreement.
Aendal and Urgak marched toward the open-air forge, leaving behind the Unicorn and the Argonian, the pair standing in the middle of the road, both gazing around. Haran shrugged and pulled his hood back, running his hand over his feathered head. "I'm heading to the bar, if you need me." The Argonian walked off, disappearing through the door of a nearby building.
Twilight sighed and rolled her eyes, opting to just follow Aendal and Urgak. Why not? Aendal was chatting up the blacksmith, and Urgak was fixing some dents in his claymore on the anvil. When Twilight approached the Elf, the Nord blacksmith just stared down at her with his powder blue eyes, crossing his massive arms over his chest. "Make sure your familiar doesn't break anything." His stern demeanor softened, and he reached down to pat the Unicorn on the head, ruffling her mane. "Beautiful familiar you've got, Aendal. She spell support for when you get spotted or something?"
The Elf scratched at the back of his head, sharing a glance with Twilight. "More than I'd like to admit. She's the one I need the greaves for – I don't want her getting hurt."
The blacksmith nodded and held up a large patch of tanned leather, his brow quirking upward. "I can fashion some iron-plated leather greaves for her, and maybe a matching cuirass, if you feel like carrying it around whenever you dispel her."
Aendal glanced down to Twilight, and when she nodded, he'd nod in agreement. "Yes, that's fine. How much will that run me?"
While Aendal and the blacksmith discussed price, Twilight tilted her head and smiled at the small Nord that came running out of the blacksmith's house. He couldn't have been any older than a young colt, standing at only about three hooves tall; he had a thick head of blonde hair, and powder blue eyes, just like his dad. The small Nord ran up to Twilight and grabbed her cheeks, giggling. "Daddy! Lookit th' Unicorn, she's purple!"
Twilight didn't even notice his hand trailing up into her mane and onto her horn until it was too late. The moment the boy's fingers wrapped around her horn, the Unicorn cried out, her knees buckling as her eyes shot wide open. "Hhhhnn! N-no! Don't gra-AB my h-HORN!" In a flash of light, she disappeared, reappearing a quarter of a mile outside of town. She lay there, shivering and clamping down on her lower lip with her teeth, her legs too akin to jelly for the Unicorn to move.
Aendal glanced back to Twilight just before she vanished, the blood draining from his face when the realization of what was happening hit him like a sack of bricks. The blacksmith's son ran crying into the house, and the blacksmith stood a mere foot away from the Bosmer, glaring daggers down at the pointy-eared ranger. "So, uh… How about that nice weather, huh?"