Arch-Mage of Winterhold,

Perhaps you could explain to me why the self-proclaimed 'former' First Ambassador has arrived in my city, requesting asylum from the Thalmor? She seemed insistent that you could and would vouch for her story, such that I am very curious to see whether her words are true.

I have contained her to the prison in the meantime. Whether I execute her or not will hinge entirely on your timely arrival and your words.

As I write this, the date is the 20th of Last Seed, 4E 202. You have precisely one month to come to Windhelm and decide the fate of this elven bitch.

-Ulfric Stormcloak

Jarl of Windhelm

P.S. - Just so we are clear, if you fail to arrive within one month, I will be sending her head to you in a burlap bag in lieu of a letter.

"Augur?" Runael had never really thought about what to call the Augur of Dunlain for short, so she'd decided on Augur. Receiving Ulfric's letter had made her wonder what was going on; why had Elenwen gone to Windhelm instead of Winterhold from the Nightgate Inn? Had something else happened in the meantime?

At this point, though, she wanted some sort of answer - vague or otherwise - to the problems now bothering her.

"Arch-Mage," came the reply; the pit glowed blue and pulsed with the term, and the words that followed. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten my existence."

"Is that sarcasm I sense?" she teased.

"Never." The tone was blatantly sarcastic this time around.

She chuckled briefly. "I wanted to thank you, first of all. Your words about the Staff of Magnus were accurate, and we were able to avert... but you know that already, I'm sure."

"I am aware of what has been averted, yes."

"When you spoke with Irileth... you mentioned that the then-Regent of Whiterun served someone who was..." She struggled to think of the precise wording.

"I did, and I will tell you something more I did not tell the Dunmer. That woman's words are not to be trusted, no matter how trustworthy she may seem to you. Can you claim to know where she is at all times?"

"...Are you suggesting that-"

"I am simply warning you. Beware she who is bound by blood to you. Keeping her too close will lead to your demise; on the other hand, setting her free may doom Tamriel."

"...So either I die, or Tamriel perishes. Fantastic; thanks for telling me I'll die either way."

"I said no such thing. There is such a thing as taking care in how close you keep her to you."

Runael conceded he had a point, if only in her mind.

"An ally has plans to bury a blade in your back; a friend would sacrifice their life to save you from that dagger. A loved one will act with well-being, but will only betray you in the process; an enemy's hatred will save your life. Two are near, two are far. One consorts with a lord of Oblivion."

"...What?" Runael had heard such vague warnings before, but...

"Take stock of your friends, allies and foes, Arch-Mage, and take the best course of action from there to ensure your survival. Above all, take care whose company you keep."

"And if I isolate myself to the College?"

"Then the College will fall, and you with it. Running from one's problems typically does not solve them, you know this."

"It was just a curiosity." Runael rubbed her temples briefly. "...The 'ally'?"

"One you are familiar with, of course, and one you have worked with in the past."

"The 'friend'?"

"Simply so, even if you two haven't always seen on the same level."

"The 'loved one'?"

"Now you're just trying to get a clear answer."

Runael grinned lightly. "The 'enemy'?"

"See previous answer."

She sighed quietly. "Well, that's half and half... still vague, but nonetheless progress."

"I have one final warning for you, Arch-Mage."

"Another portent of personal doom?" she mused.

"Do not eat the beef or venison tonight."

"Alright, who poisoned-"

"No one, but the haughty high elf is cooking dinner for the College tonight."

"Haughty..." Runael grinned lightly. "So Nirya, then. Thank you for warning me off a stomach-ache. It would seem even the enigmatic Augur of Dunlain is capable of giving clear messages and warnings. But why doesn't he, I wonder, when it comes to 'portents of doom'?"

"Because delivering 'portents of personal doom' is much more fun to do when they're given vaguely, particularly because they make those warned of them squirm anxiously."

"You're not sadistic in the slightest," she said sarcastically, grin still at her lips.

"I have to keep myself amused somehow, Arch-Mage."

She laughed at these words. "That's true. You have so much time on your hands..." She thought for a moment. "What if I sent our newest apprentice to visit you in the very near future?"

"I would enjoy a visit from one who is not familiar with me," he replied with what she presumed to be a chuckle.

"Then I'll send him down, and tell him that all members of the College had to meet you - but with me as the exception, we're all supposed to be very hush-hush about your words."

"A fine plan. It has put me in a good mood, enough that I will give you one more warning."

"Oh?"

The Augur was quiet for a moment, but the blue glow persisted.

"The trip you're planning to take is unnecessary, and will only put you in nonstop danger; the walls you suspect will protect you will only become as a prison to you. Knowing that, will you still go?"

"He'll kill her if I don't."

"A noble reason to go, but you are misplacing the source of danger. The danger is not within."

Runael frowned a little. "So Windhelm will keep me safe from... Skyrim, in effect."

"Yes and no."

"Elaborate?"

"I feel I have said too much as it is. Consider my words, Arch-Mage, and do be wary no matter what actions you choose to take."

"Sir, a report from our scouts."

Thellias glanced up from his seat behind the desk that Elenwen - and now Saarie - had formerly used. "Speak."

"A letter was intercepted from the Jarl of Windhelm to the Arch-Mage of the College of-"

Thellias waved his hand dismissively. "The details of the letter?"

"In short, sir, the Jarl has requested a meeting with the Arch-Mage. Her arrival may well save a prisoner he has taken - former First Ambassador Elenwen."

The elder mer's eyes narrowed dangerously. "She thought to seek refuge in Windhelm... bold and clever. I'll give her that small victory; she was right to assume I'd never believed..." He shook his head. "No matter. The courier bearing the letter?"

"Alive, and was permitted to deliver it."

"Excellent. We will act upon the opportunity." He thrummed his fingers on the top of his ebony helmet. "Was there a date?"

"The letter was written on the twentieth of Last Seed, sir, and the Jarl was expecting a meeting with the Arch-Mage within the next month."

"And if she doesn't show?"

"He will kill Elenwen, sir."

"Hmm..." He scratched his chin lightly. "We will be receiving reinforcements soon. As soon as they arrive, I want no less than two hundred soldiers to march on Windhelm. We will surround the city on all sides, and put pressure on the Jarl to either have his city fall under siege, or forfeit the Arch-Mage and former First Ambassador to us both in exchange for our departure from his hold."

"Sir!" The mer saluted, and stepped out of the room.

He leaned back in his seat, and smiled to himself. "I have to admit, that worked out rather beautifully. If only we could have drawn En'zhar into the net, as well... ah well. He is not, and has not been, particularly high priority ever since we arrived." He cast a glance to the only other occupant in the room. "Wouldn't you agree, Saarie?"

She was staring at her lap, unwilling to speak.

"Of course you wouldn't. His arrest was your biggest focus when we arrived here; never mind the fact that we were sent here to solve the problems of the infiltration months ago." His good mood vanished instantly, replaced with an expression of contempt. "You disappointed me, Saarie. I was willing to let your little pet project slide, but to not only let Elenwen escape, but to also permit En'zhar's right hand into the Embassy willingly? You know better."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"That's not good enough!" he roared furiously, grabbing his ebony helmet and throwing it at her. It struck her directly in the face; he was fairly certain he heard something crack, and possibly even break. When it fell to the floor, he noticed that blood was trickling from her nose. "You know that consorting with known criminals is punishable within the Dominion, especially when they're as high-profile as En'zhar and his little band of brutes! And yet, you still saw fit to permit her into the Embassy!"

"With all due respect, sir, I was under the impression she was going to kill-"

"So you permitted her entry to take matters into her own hands, even knowing you're supposed to leave such decisions up to Alinor?! You are a disgrace to the Dominion, and I am ashamed to have ever called you my apprentice!" he snapped. He stood from his chair and strode toward her, kneeling down to pick up his helmet. He chuckled as she shrank back, as if expecting him to hit her. "You're a failure, Saarie. You were never Vindicator material. Vernanye had more potential than you."

The words visibly stung the female mer, and she made it seem as if the tears forming at her eyes were from the pain he strongly suspected was flaring from her nose.

"When Elenwen, Runael and Vernanye have been captured and brought back to the Embassy, you will be joining them on the trip back to Alinor - in shackles. You will be made to answer for your idiocy here." His voice was calm now, but there was no denying the malice in his tone. "Elenwen and Runael will face worse than you and Vernanye, but you will still be punished regardless for allowing the situation to slip out of control."

"Everything I did, I did on your orders!" she snapped, finally losing her patience. "You will be made to answer for passing your orders off onto me, Thellias! You have been in dereliction of your own duties until now!"

"Wrong. I was told to address the matter however I deemed fit. I assumed - wrongly, I may add - that you would be sufficient enough to handle the matter alone. Now, I am correcting my lapse in judgment, and showing you how a real Vindicator does their job." He walked back to the desk, and slammed his helm down on the wood hard enough to make the piece of furniture creak from the impact. "I, unlike you, have followed my orders to the letter, and without taking unnecessary risks."

She leaned back in her chair and tilted her head back to try and stop her nose from bleeding.

"I believe it's your turn to clean the interrogation chamber tonight. When the sun rises and I check on it, I do not want to see even a fleck of blood on anything down there, am I clear?"

"But that's-"

"Are you refusing to obey a sensible order, soldier?" he snarled.

"I... no. I will get right on that."

"And one more thing. You will not need gloves for the task."

The thought of cleaning up the interrogation chamber without any sort of protection for her hands seemed to make Saarie visibly ill, but she nodded nonetheless and prepared to do the job set before her.

He watched her slip downstairs, and sighed wearily. "I'm never going to find a suitable replacement for myself before I retire," he muttered quietly.

"Hey Adalla, I was thinkin'..."

"Oh no... this can't be good," the high elf replied.

Mia rolled her eyes at the comment. "Fine, be that way. I don't much give a damn either way, though it was for yer own good in the end."

Adalla sighed and tilted the goblet of wine back to take a sip. She and Mia had departed High Hrothgar a couple of weeks ago, and were now in Riften, staying in Mia's home. She had declined the chance to have any of the Black-Briar Mead, saying that even buying it was 'indirectly supporting a family as corrupt as the Black-Briars'. She would have gone with Honningbrew, but she'd heard a rumor that they'd recently gone under because of an unfortunate incident during a tasting; the captain of the Whiterun Guard had apparently been poisoned, or some such.

"I'm sorry, Mia."

The woman grunted lightly in response, taking a swig of ale directly from its bottle. She, too, had no desire to drink mead, but didn't think wine was 'real liquor that makes someone forget things they want t'forget'. Apparently, their visit to High Hrothgar, and the constant chats with Arngeir had nearly driven Mia around the bend, and she was all too happy to leave the Throat of the World behind.

"Mia?"

"No. Ya wanna talk shit, I'm just gonna let ya get screwed over."

"It was a joke, and I said I was sorry!" she protested.

"Yeah, well, this here's my home, and-"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Adalla interrupted.

"Erm..."

The high elf chuckled quietly, despite herself. "No offense, but you're hopeless sometimes, Mia."

Both women jumped a little when they heard the now-familiar mewling from the next room over. Adalla was the only one who rose to her feet, and she gave Mia an apologetic look before walking over to the snow-white saber kitten that had accompanied them thus far. She picked it up and rubbed its belly gently, smiling as it pawed playfully at her hand in response.

"Them Thalmor are gonna be on yer case if they find out ya split." Mia had apparently decided to talk again.

"I know." She leaned forward and pecked the saber kitten on the forehead.

"Yer not worried 'bout 'em?"

"Of course I am, but I can't act it all the time, or it'll eventually make me slip up, and I'll end up worse off in the end." She cradled the saber kitten in her arms, and turned to face Mia once more. "Are you worried?"

"About them? No. About ya? Aye, very." Mia set her bottle of ale down. "We got two choices, Adalla. One's t'crush the Embassy and erase the Thalmor from Skyrim altogether."

The mer frowned at these words. "Even if they're weakened from that attack, they're still not fully vulnerable. We'd have our work cut out for us, Mia. They have a Vindicator there - probably two, if the rumors are to be believed."

"Aye, I thought that t'be yer answer. So, the alternative is this." Mia nudged her bottle around absentmindedly. "We head t'Solstheim."

Adalla blinked. "What?"

"Ya heard me. They won't think t'look for ya there, and even if they did, they ain't got no support up there. 'Sides, it ain't like I got no reason t'head there myself." Her expression darkened. "I been doin' some thinkin', and... well, I still got unfinished business with that Miraak prick what sent them cultists t'try and kill us."

"Are... are you sure you want to-"

"I'm sure I don't want ta, Adalla, but if ya ain't willin' t'break the Embassy, we got no other choice. Long as yer here in Skyrim, them Thalmor bastards got a chance of findin' and capturin' ya for defecting."

Adalla glanced down at the saber kitten, who was starting to play with the ends of her hair. She shifted her arms so she could gently rub the top of its head. "If we hit the Embassy, we'll need more people. Runael and Irileth, probably; if we can get anyone from Whiterun to help, then that would help, too."

"And if none of 'em agree?"

"Then... we head to Solstheim." She hugged the kitten gently in her arms. "And we take little Adima here with us."

"Who the hell's 'Adima'?" Mia asked, looking and sounding confused.

Her only response was the adorable mewling of the saber kitten that made even Mia's expression soften and pull a ghost of a smile to the corner of her lips.

"Eh, fine. Don't want the little bugger tearin' up the home anyway. I ain't sure Iona'd be up t'lookin' after the little shit while we're away, anyhow."

"You're fond of Adima, and you know it," Adalla teased.

"I ain't got the foggiest what yer on about." Mia stretched her arms and legs for a moment, then relaxed in her seat again.

"Oh. My mistake, then." Adalla knelt down, and let Adima run across the floor and jump up onto the table. She giggled as the saber kitten nuzzled Mia's arm, making the woman jump.

"...Ya little shit," she muttered with a half-grin. "Yer lucky yer so adorable." She reached out to scratch the kitten behind the ear affectionately.

"So Embassy first, Solstheim second?" Adalla asked.

"Aye. Guess this means we're gettin' ready fer a trip t'Whiterun, ain't we?"

"Whiterun?"

"Figure we can start there, instead of tryin' t'find Runael and Irileth, what may be wanderin' all over Skyrim right now." She gently clasped Adima in her hands, pulled the kitten closer, and kissed the top of its head gently. She sighed as the kitten turned its head upward and licked at her lips playfully. "Great. There goes me first kiss."

Adalla simply laughed at the comment, not caring whether it was true or not.

As the Aldmeri vessel pulled into Solitude's docks, Thellias couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over him. The Embassy had been sorely undermanned since it was attacked, and knew the request for reinforcements was made out of embarrassment. Still, he was glad to see it was taken seriously, and not treated with ridicule.

Even so, he couldn't help but notice an overall lack of Dominion soldiers on the deck. Surely they weren't all below decks, considering it was an Aldmeri vessel...? The entire crew should have been Dominion, but there was... no one readily visible.

What was going on?

His answer came in the form of five men - clearly not Dominion soldiers - leaping off the deck and onto the pier. At first, he was confused - then, eyes upon the apparent leader, he realized what must have happened.

"To think, we had a prison break," he growled, hand flying to the sword at his waist and drawing it.

"That Thalmor whore at the prison had no chance of stopping me!" the leader declared. "What makes you think you have a chance in Oblivion, elven toadie?!"

"Silence, priest, before I cut your throat," Thellias snarled. "All five of you will surrender, or I will execute every last one of you where you stand."

"Hah! You are outnumbered, elf! You may be clad in ebony, but you cannot stop the wrath of Talos!" The priest of Talos - Heimskr, Thellias recalled the name now - drew a Dominion saber, as did the other four, and all five charged at Thellias aggressively, who readied himself for the conflict to take place.

If just the five of them had broken out of prison and made it this far, not one of them was to be underestimated.

29th of Last Seed, 4E 202

I am still unable to believe we had a prison break under my watch. In a way, I am glad I am being sent to Skyrim as one of the many reinforcements Saarie requested; I will get to exact my revenge upon that priest if and when I see him again.

And yet, at the same time, I am not so eager to be arriving in Skyrim. I have heard it is a treacherous land, wrought with dangers everywhere - to say nothing of its frigid chill! I worry more for my subordinates than myself, but even so, I am worried I may not handle the cold as well as I'd like to.

I do hope against hope that I have a chance to see Runael and Vernanye both, to make sure they are both alive and well. To hear the Embassy itself was attacked... I do believe most of my hairs have turned grey by now, so fraught with worry have I been.

There was knocking on the door, interrupting Vindicator Anasteria as she wrote in her journal. She had gotten used to being interrupted from leisure activities on the ship to Skyrim; there was always something going on. "Yes?"

"Ma'am, the captain wished for me to let you know that he was altering the course a little. A particularly nasty storm looms on the horizon, so he plans to wait it out in Anvil for a time."

She sighed, and leaned back in her seat. "That's fine. Thellias is resourceful; he'll be able to hold the Embassy a bit longer without us. Besides, if we capsize in a storm, he won't be receiving any reinforcements at all."

"He also wished to inform you that he might be able to pull some strings in Anvil, and secure all of us passage to Skyrim by land. The theory is that we may arrive in Skyrim faster if we go by land rather than by sea, considering the distance Solitude is from us at present and the distance from Anvil to the southern border of Skyrim."

"Hmm... but are the other soldiers up for such a march?" she asked.

"Ma'am, we are all very eager to reach Skyrim as soon as possible and drive those brutes that attacked the Embassy back to whatever hole they crawled out from."

Anasteria smiled at these words. "Then tell the captain this for me... 'I am grateful for your offer, and will take you up on it. We will either march or ride to Skyrim from Anvil.'"

"Ma'am!" She could almost hear the soldier salute, and knew she heard him walking away.

In truth, she was fairly worried about her own condition. She wasn't as young as she once was; she was still a few decades younger than Thellias, but that wasn't saying much. Decades ago, such a trek wouldn't have tired her out much, but now...

Her eyes flicked back to the journal. She contemplated continuing writing, but decided against it. Instead, she pushed her chair away from the desk and rose to her feet. She had some things to discuss with the captain regarding this new plan - and what she'd require for it to work optimally.

The day that Heimskr returned to Whiterun was one of mixed reactions. Some were happy to see him again, while some were irritated that he was back. His only chief concern was with the state of the statue of Talos he'd previously preached beneath.

Irileth, for her own part, was secretly glad he was back. Perhaps with him in Whiterun again, things would slowly start to return to normal. The fact that he'd brought four other men with him, all of whom claimed to have broken out of a prison in Alinor, seemed to make other citizens bold, make them think the Thalmor were weaker than they let on. The Grey-Manes in particular were rather vocal about taking the fight to the Thalmor while they were still in their present weakened state, and that hitting them at the Embassy soon would remove them from Skyrim altogether. It was one thing every citizen in Whiterun could agree on: no one wanted the Aldmeri Dominion in their land any longer.

In a show of their newfound relations with the Grey-Manes, Olfrid - who had been imprisoned unjustly by the Thalmor for months, and was released by the Companions shortly after they'd been put in charge - said that he'd use every contact he had to ensure that any Thalmor operatives outside of the Embassy were able to report back to their masters.

Even the Companions, who had been put in charge of Whiterun by the former Regent, seemed to be for the idea of acting against the Thalmor. They had said that the Thalmor were a common enemy to all in Skyrim, save for other Thalmor agents. With that decision made, the Companions then reinstated Balgruuf the Greater as Jarl of Whiterun.

Which made Irileth the Housecarl of Dragonsreach once more, and Proventus the Jarl's steward. Things were already starting to look up for Whiterun, and the city was united in purpose now.

Still... Irileth couldn't shake the feeling that the situation could and would be better if someone with in-depth knowledge of the Embassy and the Thalmor in general were present... her thoughts went immediately to Runael, whom she knew wouldn't come. The Arch-Mage said the College owed Whiterun nothing, and although it pained Irileth to admit it, she was right; Balgruuf and herself had effectively deceived the College all those years ago, and now that the truth had been outed...

Runael had taken the fragments they'd found in the ruin with her. This left Irileth with nothing to look over, nothing to contemplate... only what could have been referenced by 'the heart of the frozen north'. Runael had seemed... certain it had something to do with Whiterun.

Did it, though?

Regardless, her thoughts weren't on the lich much anymore. If Runael wanted to focus on it, let her; it irritated Irileth to work on it for as long as they had.

The Dunmer now had a city - and its Jarl - to defend once more... and, as some sort of bonus, the task of overseeing the anti-Thalmor movement forming within the city walls.

Bounce. Bouncy bouncy bouncy bounce.

The saber kitten was enjoying the motion of being bounced lightly in the elf's lap!

The elf reminded the kitten of the woman that hadn't been a cat, back at that camp. Not much - this elf seemed to care greatly for the kitten, in comparison - but just enough to be comfortable.

Then that other woman, who was with the elf almost all the time - or maybe it was a man with really long hair and a voice sounding like a female's? The kitten wasn't sure anymore, and didn't really care, either. Anyway, the other obviously cared as well, but didn't show it nearly as much. It was all fine with the kitten, though; as long as there was care, the saber kitten didn't mind.

A purr escaped the kitten as that one pleasant spot behind the ears was scratched by the elf. Eyes were closed and purrs intensified as the kitten enjoyed every last moment of that scratch. This was probably what the kitten enjoyed the most, was the scratch behind the ears. It always felt so good, and always made the saber kitten indescribably happy.

That was assuming kittens could describe things anyway.

"Adima." There was that name again, the one that seemed to be directed at the kitten more and more. Was that the name now? The kitten was so unsure, but did react to it now whenever it was spoken; it seemed to please the two women - or the woman and the man - which made the kitten think perhaps it was a new name.

The kitten liked it. It sounded pleasant to the kitten.

Three times now. The funny wooden contraption the two women - or the woman and the man - were sitting in, along with the kitten, had stopped again. The woman - or man - had climbed out of the contraption, while the elf had leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the kitten, as if in a hug. The kitten had, of course, returned the gestured with nuzzles of affection, and stopped only when the elf straightened up, and the woman - or man - returned to the contraption.

Was it some kind of game? Would it be possible for the kitten to start that game without help?

The kitten was too anxious to try and figure that out on its own. It loved sitting in the elf's lap, but wanted to know whether it would work or not.

Rather than cause trouble, the kitten curled up into a ball in the elf's lap and, with a wide yawn, prepared to take a nap.

A.N. - Here's the next one. There are... two more to follow, I believe. I'm working on Chapter 22 at this point in time.

So yes, Heimskr's escape was not just for fun. As you are seeing, Whiterun has rallied around him, more or less. He's even gone toe-to-toe with Thellias and Anasteria both, and he's in Whiterun - so what does that mean for the Thalmor?! I've always envisioned Heimskr as being an 'underdog' when it comes to the Thalmor; he talks down on them, and at first, it seems like that's all he can do... but then I got thinking, what if he was forced to fight the Thalmor? What then? For some reason, I just imagined him beating both Vindicators. (I suppose it's true he has help from his four allies/friends, but even so...)

More prattle in next Author's Note!

-Spiritslayer