Though Mjoll didn't have a horse to ride on, she took to sharing the saddle with Arminius. As they began to hit through the cold southern mountain pass, Erik rode up next to Arminius' horse and began talking with Mjoll.
"So…uhh…Mjoll, is it?" Erik greeted.
"You forgot already?" Mjoll said, flatly.
"No," he replied. "That is your name right?" She smiled and looked on ahead, as though she was laughing internally. "Well, you have seen great adventures, haven't you?" Mjoll turned her head back to Erik.
"Yes, that's true," she said. "Ever since I came of age and left the comfort of my home."
"How old does that make you now?" Erik asked.
"About thirty years," she answered. "How about you?"
"I'm 19…but I've seen plenty of adventure already!"
Hadvar from off to the side jokingly commented: "If you could say killing a bunch of bears is an adventure then sure." They each laughed, Mjoll, Hadvar, and Arminius, heartily, but Erik scoffed.
"A war is an adventure too, right?"
"Hey, a war is plenty of an adventure!" Hadvar said. "Why, I've been to the far ends of Skyrim because of my service."
"Same as I," Arminius said; though his friends only knew of some of his adventures. There were some he liked to keep secret.
"So how old does that make you then, Dragonborn?" Mjoll asked. Arminius snorted out his nose, and answered the question far beyond what was asked.
"Still relatively young, 23 exactly," he said. "Hadvar would be 25, and Jenassa back there…" Mjoll turned to see the quiet dark elf that looked up at her with a strange dark glare in her slanted red eyes. "She would be just over 200 now."
"You must've seen some adventure yourself, considering your real old age," Mjoll said to her.
"200 years is still relatively young in the average lifespan of an elf," Jenassa said. "But yes, I have seen adventure; being the former leader of a mercenary group helps."
"She doesn't like to brag, but she is a deadly shot," Arminius told Mjoll. "So deadly, in fact I believe that her skill can rival that of Aela the Huntress of the Companions."
"Can she now? Aela the Huntress is renowned throughout Skyrim to be the best Nord Archer there is," Mjoll said.
"And I believe that Jenassa is the best Dark Elf archer there is," he said, and they heard Jenassa blow some air out her nose like a small laugh. Arminius thought on continuing the conversation, and with the direction and subject they have taken of this 'Aela', it would probably be great if he was to share a similar story that could surprise his companions.
"I met her once, you know?" he said. "Aela the Huntress, that is."
"You met Aela the Huntress!?" Erik bursted in, to the Dragonborn's expectation, surprise.
"You did?" Hadvar came in. "When was this, during the war?" Arminius gave a slight laugh.
"During my time in Riverwood, when you're uncle sent me out to Whiterun to get help," he answered. "I was going along the road to the outside of the city, just across the creek; and I stopped when I saw a Giant stomping it's foot down on a farm."
"Did you fight this great Beast?" Erik asked, obviously by his voice whenever a Giant was involved in a story he would immerse himself in it.
Arminius laughed: "Of course not, I was just a simple soldier then. Instead the warriors of the Companions were out there slashing their way at its ankles; I just stood back and watched in amusement. But I did see her, shooting arrows in its head pretty quickly, and once she got it in the eye it fell dead."
"Amazing," Erik whispered. "Then what happened?"
"I had the indecency to approach them and introduce myself after I had made them do all the work," he said.
"Uh-oh," Hadvar giggled.
"…I was still naïve then. Needless to say, she came up and talked to me and said…" In the best impersonating voice he could make: 'Well, that thing is dead now, no thanks to you.' "So then I said: 'It seemed like you had it under control."
"Oh that's far worse," Hadvar laughed more.
"What?! They really did have it under control," Arminius said. "And you know what she said to me? 'HA! You sound like a milk-drinker!"
They each laughed together and Mjoll said, "The famous Aela the Huntress called you a Milk-Drinker, huh?"
Hadvar repeated and added more detail to the sentence: "The famous Aela the Huntress called the DRAGONBORN a milk-drinker."
"Well, she didn't know I was Dragonborn at that time, and neither did I," Arminius said. As the laughter died down, he sighed and muttered under his breath, "Wonder what she'd say about me now."
We find ourselves back in the wondrous green of Cyrodiil, the vast many woodlands and great big fields. This, however, was only the rural side. The Imperial City, which was rested on the middle island, the very middle of Tamriel, as stated before, found itself to be reconstructed. This was thanks to whatever Titus Mede II could coax up unfortunately; such reconstruction leaves a lot of debt, and drains gold reserves that were already weak due to the last few wars fought.
This left a situation on how well they would be able to put funding into recruitment for their military; how they would be able to supply newly armed recruits since the state provided gear for them. For now, the gold reserves survived due to the profits collected by the East Empire Company, a trade company run by an appointed Government official. For this, all profit flow goes directly to the Gold Reserve, but Tariffs had run high in their exports to non-Imperial occupied provinces such as Morrowind, those from the Dominion, and even Hammerfell. This meant that the government funds were barely surviving and they are not enough to pay off the national debt without risking possible bankruptcy for businesses and inflation.
The Elder Council and Titus Mede II gathered at the Elder Council chambers on this sunny day to discuss the economic situation, but whatever idea was come up with was immediately shot down.
Councilor Mearanil believed that they should impose taxes on the western holds of Skyrim, and harsher taxes on the eastern holds. Both High Chancellor Garrett Malvolan and the Emperor disagreed with the proposal, as it would risk an even bigger political crisis in a place where it was trying to maintain order and stability; plus the Imperial Legions were already collecting funds from seized businesses to help repair the cities that have been damaged by the Civil War.
Councilor Vilkne Alaldson offered the idea of taxing Thalmor Justiciar affairs that take place within Imperial run provinces. Most of the Council chamber that was sided to Thalmor interest shared their disagreements, and those not on the Thalmor's interest also shared their disagreements as well. They decided that it would not happen as it is stated no-where in the White-Gold Concordat that the Imperials had any power to do so, nor could they enforce it; so they saw such an idea as a violation of the treaty, and possibly an act of war, which they were trying best to avoid for as long as possible.
The Council hearing ended with no solution to the problem; a usual occurrence when regarding legislative matters. So the Council dispersed and agreed that they would hold another hearing in a couple of days.
Moria Galenus, a female councilor to Cyrodilic representation, was a woman of over thirty years of age. She had dark hair, like most Cyrodilic people, and yet a slight tan in her skin, but nowhere close enough to be mistaken for a Redguard.
She sat in the Green Emperor way, under a tree where she usually resided when she looks to entertain herself. A book in her hand, she has dwelled in the arts of good old fashion escapism, an art that many have become lost in during such difficult times they lived in. This is a thing she did almost every day, but it was only this day that she would experience a meeting like no other.
An accented voice came from behind her, on the other side of the tree; "I see that no solution has reached the Council for their economic problems." Moria glanced up from her book to see that a man in formal wear, short black hair and stubble with an eye-patch over his left eye, was striding slowly over to her. "So yet, here you are, Councilor Moria Galenus, dwelling in a book that has little to do with the reality of the situation. May I ask why that is?"
Moria blinked and said: "A wise man once said that 'No matter how busy you may think you are, you must find time for reading, or surrender yourself to self-chosen ignorance.'"
"You must be well read then," he glanced down at the title of the book she held and then said, "in fiction." Moria closed her book and smiled while squinting at him.
"You must be Scipio right? The one who convinced the Emperor to send another legion to Skyrim some time ago during the conflict up there?" She asked.
Scipio nodded; "That I am, you must remember me from that hearing."
"Yes I do; I can't forget the eye patch that you wear, and you're remarkable talent for public speaking."
"Do you also know of my 'remarkable' talent for military strategy and tactics?"
"Yes, the couriers speak the news of your battle at the Treva River quite well," she said. Scipio offered her a hand to help her up from the ground and she accepted it.
"What some do or don't know is that I also have a 'remarkable' talent for swooning ladies," he said.
Moria laughed; "Do you now?"
"Of course, so let me start off from the beginning," Scipio said, and he stepped back from her and bowed gentleman-like. "I am Cairus Scipio, commander of the fifth Legion and holder of many 'remarkable' talents."
Moria grew a slight smile into her cheek.
It was now night in the richer residential district, where lights have been lit and refracted in the windows of houses. One in particular was the Scipio manor, where outside the gate the privately hired legion vanguard stood lazy, one of them whistling as they knew General Scipio would not be riding them this night.
On the inside in a specific hallway with a long red carpet going down it, Scipio's head servant Orc, Yasug, stood by a door with a white towel over his forearm. He faced outward, and looked out of a window as his ears twitched to a muffled sound coming from the other side of the door into the bedroom.
He heard a repetitive beating of skin and shaking of a bed post, matched perfectly by the moans and yelps of a woman in ecstasy, followed by the grunts of a man. This went on for the next couple of minutes and the beating got faster, and the moaning became more intense. This was until Yasug heard one final thrust, and a loud yell from the woman who would be having an orgasm by then.
Yasug waited for several more moments for what he was expecting, and after those moments the male called out his name. He turned, opened the door and entered the room to smell a stench of fornication, a sight of a lowly lit room with only several candles on the side tables, and a large king sized bed in red sheets being occupied by two sweaty nude forms of Scipio and Councilor Moria Galenus.
"Towel, please," Scipio said, reaching out his hand. Yasug approached and handed him the towel, and Scipio began wiping the shot out semen of his from Moria's back. They surely made a mess of themselves.
She breathed heavily, same with Scipio, and he told Yasug: "Would you get more towels, please, some dampened with warm water and some dry; for the sweat." Yasug nodded and turned to head out the door. "And can you retrieve the Sanguine Leaves, and two chalices of Ale?" He called out.
"Yes, Master Scipio," and Yasug was out the door. Scipio sighed once and collapsed on his pillow as Moria lifted herself to look at him questioningly.
"I thought Sanguine Leaves were illegal," she said.
"Only when you're seen with them," he replied. "Would you not care for some? Have you not tried some before? They're harmless, really."
"Oh, of course I have," she said. "I do not mind them at all now, thank you."
Minutes later, Yasug came back with several dry towels over his forearm once more, and three more servants of different races walking in behind him. One, a wood elf, held a silver platter that had the steaming wet towels; another, a Breton, held another silver platter and a portable expanding table in which she set up the platter on next to the bed, and the platter had two chalices with a glass bottle of Ale; the third, a dark elf, carried in a blue glass Hookah and set it up on a small bed table on the bed.
As the servants were readying everything for them, Scipio and Moria sat up on the back board and adjusted their pillows for comfort. The servants bowed and they all left the room, but stayed just outside in case Scipio would call them back.
"So," Scipio said, pouring Ale into the Chalices and handing one to her. "You must enjoy this service as well as I do…" he sipped from his. "Being treated like royalty."
"I feel more like a woman now than royalty, though, with how well you did your service," Moria said, drinking from hers. "It's been a while since a man has done that for me, with my Councilor work and all." Scipio grabbed a wet towel and offered it to her, in which she refused. Instead he laid that one over his hair and rested back.
"Well, I'm glad I could give you this," Scipio said, laying his free hand behind his head. Moria leaned up and grabbed the tube of the hookah and put it between her lips. She inhaled in, her shoulders rising to it, and released it from her mouth; then she blew out the smoke with a relaxed look of her face.
She moaned, "Yes…Sanguine Leaves…" She put the tube back between her lips and puffed some more.
Scipio laughed; "Take it easy there; we still have matters I wish to discuss." Moria released the smoke from her mouth but she dropped her expression to replace it with one of question.
"Business? Meaning?"
"Meaning matters that are important to the future of the Empire," he said.
"Oh I see," she said. "I suppose it's a fair trade: make me feel like a woman again, and I help you in return."
"Not necessarily," Scipio said. "This was a way to get to know you; possibly the best way rather than sitting down with you for dinner where we could be seen by certain eyes."
"And what business is at hand that would require such secrecy?" Scipio got up from the bed and walked to the window looking out of it. Moria shifted and rested on her side look at his nude butt, but listen to him at the same time.
"Thalmor," he said. "They breathe down our necks; it's no secret that they are upon us."
"Ah yes, Thalmor," she said, rolling her eyes. "High Elves think pretty highly of themselves especially after that war all those years ago."
"I figure that the Civil War in Skyrim had to have been incited by the Thalmor in order to keep human forces occupied and weak. Surely, that gives them a great chance at driving the nail in the coffin for us."
"Like how they were involved with the tensions between the Argonians and Dark Elves?" Moria said. "I wouldn't be surprised if what you said was true. Divines, I would believe any conspiracy theory involving the Thalmor."
"Thing is, too many of the Dominion's people live in resent of them, or fear due to their usual purges," Scipio said. "Perhaps we could use that to our advantage to get them on our level, same way they did with us."
"What are you suggesting then, General?" He turned to her.
"A Rebellion," he said.
"Are you serious? That would eat up a lot of funds…"
"It wouldn't if the Councilors themselves acted as Patrons," he drew close to the bed. "Basically, all we would need are Thalmor opposing councilors such as yourself on our side to create a budget in secret."
"But Scipio, using our own profits for funds? Councilors are greedy, and I even speak for myself. How would you convince any of the others to provide funds from their own gross income?"
"Same way I convince anyone else to join me," he said, kneeling down on the bed. "Councilor Galenus, you understand how dire this threat is to the future of mankind. We would lose a lot more than just our riches if we were to be selfish enough not to take any immediate action. For the Divines' sake, show some initiative as a Councilor to start doing some good for human kind."
Moria was silent for several moments, looking down and pondering on what he said. But what he said was very convincing, as was his said ability to persuade people into doing things. Underneath, she believed herself to be a good person, and she wanted to live up to it, even if she did agree that she was as greedy as other Councilors.
But her hatred for Thalmor expansion, especially for Mearanil and Motierre in the Council, was greater than greed ever would be. She had a huge distaste for the nastiness of those two snakes, and she agreed that in order to kill a being like a snake would be from the inside out; scramble its guts till it dies and emerge cutting through the skin in a bloody victory.
Yes.
Scipio was right; and she had to give him this in return, nevertheless the whole of the Empire, the nation that she is sworn to serve. She at least believed that she had to do something meaningful rather than sit around all day arguing at a large table with other dumb men, and have nothing happen. Instead of greed, she for once chose to do something.
Now it was up to the matter of convincing the others that same way.