The guild did not, as he had predicted, fall around her ears.
In fact, Oreyn had to admit- reluctantly- that she was doing an excellent job as Guildmaster.
The new Master was more hands-on than Vilena had ever been, saddling up her horse several times a month to visit the other chapters in Cyrodiil. She was also surprisingly astute when it came to procuring contracts, and was close to closing a long-term deal with the Arcane University. Mostly, however, she remained in Chorrol, sparring with the new recruits and dealing with as much paperwork as her attention span would allow (which was very little).
The most recent addition to their ranks was a young Imperial named Magnus, who had travelled from the Imperial City with the express intention of joining the Chorrol division for the 'privilege of working alongside the new Master'. He was skilled in battle, the embodiment of charm, and handsome as only an Imperial of flawless stock could be.
To say that Oreyn did not like the boy would be an understatement.
The new Master had returned from Anvil the previous night, and had sent word to Oreyn that he should meet her at the Guildhall the following morning.
When he found her she was in the archery lot behind the hall. She was dressed in simple leathers and was giving a lesson to Magnus.
"You need to shoot a little higher," she said gently. "Like this."
The Master reached around Magnus' back and positioned his hands correctly. He released the bowstring and his arrow went sailing into the bullseye of the target.
"There! Much better," she nodded, stepping back from him.
"I'm only as good as the training you give me, Master," he smiled.
Oreyn cleared his throat conspicuously.
"Ah! Oreyn, you're here. Good, come with me."
"By the Nine," he hissed when they entered the hall. "the boy knows how to shoot a bow."
"He asked me for a lesson," she shrugged.
"No offence intended, Master, but he's a better shot than you are."
"You really don't like the boy, do you?"
"No. He's a smarmy little bastard and I don't trust him."
"Does your bed even have a good side?"
By the time their bickering had subsided they had reached the top floor. The Master sat cross-legged on the desk, as was her custom, and addressed him.
"I've finally found something to do," she beamed, clapping her hands against her knees.
"I see," he frowned. "is running an entire guild not 'something' any more?"
"Well, yes, no, of course," she sighed. "but writing memoranda and taking tea with the Arch-Mage isn't exactly scintillating."
"And I'm supposed to look after the guild when you're off doing whatever it is you're doing?"
"Technically that is your job," she frowned. "regardless, I'll still be around, just not as frequently. Don't you want to hear what I'm going to do?"
"Oh, alright then," he made a show of groaning at the prospect.
"You heard about the Anvil Chapel attacks of course?"
Oreyn nodded.
"Well, I was passing through, and I stopped to speak to the man who's been preaching outside the Chapel. We talked for a long while and he told me about some threat to Cyrodiil- not quite sure what, I wasn't really listening, I'm sure I'll figure it out later- but apparently some holy artefacts need to be recovered to combat it."
"And you're going to recover them?" he narrowed his eyes at her.
"I'm going to give it a shot," she smiled. "but first I have to take this 'Pilgrimage'- visit all these Wayshrines, look-" she took a folded map from her desk and showed it to Oreyn.
"With all due respect, Master," he said quietly. "I thought you subscribed to… different gods."
"Azura and Boethia have served me well," she said quickly, a blush rising in her alkanet skin. "But refusing to believe that there are other powers would be nothing but arrogant. I have much to learn yet, I feel."
"Well, it sounds like a fool's errand to me, Master."
"In that case, the prospect of proving you wrong is all the motivation I need," she grinned. "and will you stop calling me that, please?"