He first saw the huge statue as he followed the road as it twisted around a corner. It stood on a snow-covered hill, atop a rocky outcrop. From where Ezekiel stood, which he judged was a good two-hundred feet away, it looked like a woman. She had her arms outstretched, one behind her and on in front of her. She was holding a crescent moon in the hand behind her and some sort of star-like object in the other. She had flowing robes that went down to her feet.

Ezekiel just stared at it for a while, trying to figure out what it was. Probably some religious idol.

Deciding there was no harm in further investigating it, Ezekiel left the road he was following and set off into the snow, past the trees and began climbing the steep hill that led to the statue. As he drew nearer to the top, a set of stone steps led up onto an a stone platform. An stone alter lay right in front of the statue's legs, and behind the alter knelt someone in what look like prayer. The figure was hooded, and the cloak that he wore was black with a yellow stripe down in the middle.

He must have heard Ezekiel's steps behind him, for he stood up and turned.

It was a woman. A dark elf woman. The worst of the worst.

"Are you here to pray with me?" she asked.

Ezekiel studied her carefully before asking, "pray to what?"

She turned and gave a sweeping gesture to the statue. "Azura, of course."

"Who is Azura?"

"A Daedric prince."

Ezekiel nodded in the statue's direction and said dryly, "it looks like a woman to me."

The dark elf was about to answer when suddenly her gaze on Ezekiel turned to one of horror and fear. Ezekiel narrowed his eyes in suspicion and she raised a pointing finger to him. She started backing away slowly as she said, "you... I see... I see great evil in your future... and death, and..." Suddenly she shouted, "stay away from me!"

"You speak nonsense, woman," Ezekiel said dismissively.

"You are... or will be... an evil man. You will do great evil, and harm to others! Begone! Begone and never come back here!"

She was pressed against the alter now, her eyes wide with fear, her finger pointing accusingly. "You will burn in hell for what you will do!"

I've had enough of this.

"You mean this?" Ezekiel asked her, drawing his longsword from his scabbard and approaching the fanatic.

"Stay away from me! Azura protects me!"

Obviously Azura wasn't feeling very protective that day, as Ezekiel swung his sword sideways, lopping off her head cleanly. It hit the ground with a thud, followed shortly by the rest of the body. Blood began pooling from the stump of her neck. Ezekiel wiped his sword on the woman's robe, cleaning the blood off it before sheathing it.

She shouldn't have been so annoying.

Ezekiel knelt down and did a quick search of the woman's headless corpse, but found no gold or any other valuables. The only thing on the alter was a single candle. Off to the side, though, Ezekiel saw a small open tent made of some sort of animal hide. Inside was a bedroll.

Dusk was slowly giving way to night now, so Ezekiel picked up the candle and took it into the tent, where he sat down on the bedroll and placed candle next to him. He took the scroll out of his pocket and opened it up, holding it near the candlelight to look at.

Wanted

Leader of the bandit group staying in Lost Knife Hideout, 30 miles south of Winterhold

300 gold reward

Ezekiel had already read it once while he walked, but he liked the look of the 300 gold part. He rolled it back up and put it back in his pocket. He unhooked his scabbard, blew out the candle and lay back on the bedroll. It had been a long day of walking, especially in the cold, so he fell asleep quickly.

The next morning he woke up late. The sun was almost at the highest point in the sky. He briskly got up, reattached his sword in its scabbard to his hip and left the tent. He cast one last glance at the headless corpse of the dark elf fanatic, and her severed head lying a foot away, and descended the stone steps. It was a windy day, so his cloak billowed and flapped behind him as he walked, keeping his head down. Ezekiel walked down the hill and back onto the road two-hundred feet away.

Ezekiel followed the road, not entirely sure where it led, but following it nonetheless. It was the only road in sight, and led south, the only direction that the scroll said. As he walked he saw a woman wrapped tightly in scarves and furs; so tightly in fact that Ezekiel could only barely make out that it was a woman. She was pulling a small wooden cart behind her, with a blanket thrown over the top of whatever its contents were. She merely nodded to Ezekiel as she walked past him. He watched her coldly as she went by. I should have killed her and taken the cart. Maybe there was some food in there. The last time I ate was in Winterhold.

He did nothing though, and kept walking. An hour or so later the wind died down and he came across a large hole in the side of a cliff. Some dull light glowed inside. Outside a couple of crates were lying about, and a guard leaning against the cliff face with a lantern next to him. He wore the black scales and grey cloak of the guards of Winterhold. The iron full-faced helm showed nothing of his face.

Ezekiel left the road and wandered over to him. "What is this place?"

"Whistling Mine."

"Where is everyone, then?"

"Inside," the guard said, nodding to the huge hole in the rock. "Working."

"Why are you out here then?"

"It's wartime, and this mine's pretty far away from any villages or cities. I've been assigned to keep guard and make sure the workers are safe."

"Who would do them harm?"

The guard shrugged, "bandits mostly, but sometimes even Imperial soldiers."

"They come all the way out here?"

"Not often, but sometimes."

"There's only one of you," Ezekiel pointed out.

"Aye, but the mine hasn't been attacked yet, and I hope that continues. It's bloody cold out here, and I'd rather be back in Winterhold, but I was sent by the jarl, so here I am."

Ezekiel nodded. "I'll leave you to it then."

The guard grunted lazily as Ezekiel walked away back to the road.

He came upon the fort a couple of hours later.

It lay off to the left side of the road, its stone walls low and in poor condition. Where there weren't stone walls there were thick wooden spikes sticking up out of the snow, bunched close together. A wooden tower poked up over the walls. Ezekiel could vaguely make out a figure standing atop it.

Maybe he can point me in the right direction of Long Knife Hideout.

Ezekiel wandered off the road and approached the fort. When he got close he saw that the person on the wooden watchtower was a dark elf with dull green skin and long, swept back grey hair. He had a short, forked beard, the same colour as his hair. He was clad in a plain black robe, with an iron dagger sheathed at his hip. "By on your way!" he shouted down at Ezekiel.

Ezekiel did not such thing. He stopped a few feet away from the wall and looked up at the man. "What is this place?"

"Fort Kastav, and it's in possession of my fellow mages and I," he explained. "Now I won't say it again, be on your way."

Ezekiel spat off to his side. "Or you'll do what, mage?"

The mage said nothing for a time, only stared down poisonously at Ezekiel. He eventually said in a low, threatening tone, "leave, or you'll die. Or at least, you'll wish you were dead."

Ezekiel couldn't help but grin. "I'd like to see you try."

"So be it."

The mage left the watchtower, and moments later Ezekiel heard him shouting commands. Ezekiel put a hand on the hilt of his longsword and waited. He couldn't hear anything for a time, but soon he heard a loud creaking to his right. He turned to see the double wooden doors under the stone archway of the fort slowly opening. Ezekiel turned to face that direction. When the doors were fully open, they came for him.

But they were not people. They were...

Skeletons!?

The bones looked old and had a strange bronze tint to them. Instead of eyes they just had a strange, bright blue light emitting from their eye sockets. There were two of them. One held a bow and had a quiver on its back full of arrows, and the other held a longsword in one hand.

Ezekiel ripped out his own sword and took an instinctive step back as they came for him. They were slow, however, and could only seem to move at a fast walk. Ezekiel gripped his sword with both hands and held it in a defensive position. As the skeleton with the bow readied an arrow, the other raised its sword above its head and brought it down at Ezekiel.

Ezekiel was ready for this though, and brought his own sword up to meet the skeleton's blade. Both impacted with each other with a clang. Ezekiel gripped his sword tighter and dug his feet into the snow as he tried to hold the skeleton's blade. The skeleton seemed to possess an incredible strength. It was only holding its sword with one hand, and yet he was almost overpowering Ezekiel.

Relenting, Ezekiel slid his sword along the blade of the skeletons', and spun around before slamming his longsword into the skeleton's side. The blade passed between the ribs and hit what seemed to be the spine. The skeleton let out an inhuman screech as it dropped its sword and fell onto its knees.

An arrow went whistling past Ezekiel's ear and clanked uselessly off a boulder behind him. Not wasting any more time, Ezekiel swung his sword horizontally, taking the kneeling skeleton's skull clean off. The collection of bones slumped lifelessly onto the snow, and Ezekiel started a run towards the archer. It was readying another arrow, and was just about to fire it when Ezekiel bounded up to it and knocked the bow lazily out of its hands before immediately brining his longsword back around and cutting the skeleton cleanly in half at the waist. The two halves dropped onto the snow.

Ezekiel panted as he looked back over the two really dead skeletons. Let's see them try to fight me now, without a head or joined body.

He knew he should have left the fort at this point, forgetting about the mage and being on his way briskly, but he just couldn't leave it at that. I'll teach that mage for trying to have me killed.

His longsword in one hand at his side, Ezekiel stalked towards the fort's gate and passed underneath the archway.

The courtyard was mostly empty of structures, with only a small stone keep on the other side. Ezekiel was approaching the door to it when he heard the voice from behind him.

"Come to die, then? Good, I wanted to finish you off myself."

Ezekiel turned to see the same mage he had talked to before. His dagger was still sheathed at his side. Ezekiel narrows his eyes at him in suspicion. Was he going to try to use his magic on me?

"You're mistaken, mage. It's not I who will die this day."

At that, Ezekiel broke into a sprint, raising his sword in both hands as he ran. The mage was ready for this, and closed his hands together. A blue blur of magic appeared, and he was about to cast it on Ezekiel, but he was too quick. Ezekiel's longsword came down on the mage's collarbone. The blade sunk deep, and the mage let out a pained scream. Ezekiel felt bone crunch as wrenched the blade out. The mage fell onto his back on the snow and twitched as he bled out profusely. He'll be dead in seconds. A shame I couldn't prolong his suffering.

Ezekiel was about to sheath his sword when something struck him hard from behind. He tried to let out a gasp, but couldn't, as he fell face first onto the snow at the feet of the dying mage. Ezekiel's sword fell out of his grasp and lay a few feet away from him. He felt a sudden, sharp freezing cold come upon him, and it felt as if all his bones were seizing up. Frost magic, must be. Damn mages.

Ezekiel managed to flip over onto his back, with great pain, to see another mage approaching him. This one was a woman, however. She wore the same black robe as the other. A haze of blue magic emitted from her left hand. She had long black hair which fell to the small of her back, and her skin was smooth and pale. Her eyes were a deep blue. The beautiful ones are always the dangerous ones.

She smiled as she stopped and looked down at Ezekiel.

"What are you smiling at, whore?" Ezekiel spat the last word.

This just broadened her smile. "I was always the better mage, between the two of us," she said, looking at the corpse of the other mage. "He was older, but I was always faster and more skilled. And more dangerous," she added lastly.

"I...I..." Ezekiel tried to talk, but found he couldn't.

"Don't try to talk," she advised him. "We wouldn't want you to use up the last of your strength. You'll need that for when I prolong your suffering. And I can prolong it for a very long time."

She took a step towards Ezekiel and was about to reach down to grab a hold of him.

Now's my only chance.

Mustering the last of his strength and control, Ezekiel grunted loudly as he swept his foot under the mage's legs. This caught her by surprise, and she was tripped. She fell onto the snow on her back, and Ezekiel sprung up. He felt the effects of her spell wearing off, and immediately picked up his longsword.

The woman looked to be getting up, so Ezekiel dashed towards her and planted a kick right in her stomach. She gasped as she slumped down again.

"I would normally take this chance to give you a good hard fucking," Ezekiel told her. "But it just so happens I already have other business that needs attending to."

With that he swung his sword down with both hands. Warm blood sprayed on his face as her head was separated from her body.

He bent down and ran his sword through the snow, cleaning all the blood off it. He sheathed it in his scabbard and left the fort, without giving it a second glance.