Chapter III: For Kvatch!
Frostcrag Spire…
23 Frost Fall 4E21
"And Akatosh drew from his breast a burning handful of his Heart's blood, and he gave it into Alessia's hand, saying, 'This shall also be a token to you of our joined blood and pledged faith. So long as you and your descendants shall wear the Amulet of Kings, then shall this dragonfire burn- an eternal flame- a sign to all men and gods of our faithfulness," Aywin read from a book entitled The Trials of St. Alessia.
"Oh. So that is the Amulet of Kings in our story?" The Khajitt asked.
"Yes, but Milady why did you stop there? What was that burning gate that Saryn saw at Kvatch?" The Bosmer asked.
Aywin smiled and continued reading: "But should the dragonfires fail, and should no heir of our joined blood wear the Amulet of Kings, then shall the Empire descend into darkness, and the Demon Lords of Misrule shall govern the land."
Aywin closed the book and sat down. The look on her face was one of a teacher trying to cajol a student into understanding a tricky concept.
"A Gate to Oblivion?" The Nord guessed.
"Very good," Aywin nodded. "So you see, Martin Septim was the Empire's last hope."
"Why is there no record of this Martin Septim?" The Khajitt asked skeptically.
"There is record, but his rule over Cyrodiil was, sadly, so short that there is only this tome and the words of those who lived through the horrific affair that he even existed. To everybody else, he was simply 'Brother Martin', citizen of Kvatch, who died when the daedra overran it," Aywin sighed. "Again as I say there is so little record of the nine heroes who this tale recounts."
"Heroes?" The Nord asked. "They are all heroes? But that Argonian assassin? And that thief…"
"Heroes are not people who have led a blameless life. They are people who have made the necessary sacrifices for others," Aywin explained. "Azeg-Rael and R'darra may not seem heroes yet, but in time, you will understand the role they play, and why they are so important to this tale.
"Young Alessia, who shares the Saints name, is a hero who you would not question. Nor perhaps Davion or Borin gro-Kromlock. And certainly not Ignin. But how would you rate Will, Saryn or Cierra. They only have their best interests at heart, at least so far. Would you say they are not heroes?"
The men were not certain where Aywin was going with this, and they didn't bother to ask. For after taking another sip from her glass of wine, she turned back to the book and continued the story.
Kvatch…
28 Last Seed 3E433
As Ignin arrived at Kvatch he saw the burning flames that engulfed the city on the hill above and the large fiery gate.
"What has happened here?" Ignin cursed.
Rain was pouring down on the hordes of fleeing people. A group had set up an encampment at the bottom of the hill and were regrouping. A high elf ran up to Ignin and began to shout.
"Come on! Run while you can! The Guard still holds the road, but it's only a matter of time!" He shouted.
"What? What has happened here?" Ignin demanded.
A familiar voice answered for him as the elf ran off. "Gods blood! You don't know!"
Ignin turned and saw Saryn who had her bow drawn and the look of having spent a good portion of the day in battle.
"Saryn? Not quite the reunion I'd hoped for," Ignin said, unsheathing his longsword.
"Daedra overran Kvatch last night! There were glowing portals outside the walls. Gates to Oblivion itself!" Saryn cried. She wiped her face. "There was a huge creature… something out of a nightmare…"
"The whole city can't be destroyed!" Ignin gasped.
"Go and see for yourself!" Saryn cried. "Kvatch is a smoking ruin."
Ignin and Saryn ran up the switchbacks to the top of the hill and saw only the basic frame of the city wall still remaining. The massive fiery gate stood dead center of the road, and some battlements had been erected on their side of it. A small group of guards stood perched by it, sometimes shooting arrows at the small demonic creatures that popped out from time to time.
It was then that Ignin noticed the sky. It was red as flame with heat lightning shooting across it. The clouds seemed to have turned to smoke. It was almost as if they were in the very bowels of hell.
"Oy there!" Saryn called. "We've come to help."
The guard captain turned and glanced at them skeptically. "Savlian Matius, captain of Kvatch guard. This is no place for civilians."
"Civilian my ass," Saryn cursed. "You'll not find a better shot with a bow than me. And he looks a little shabby, but he's tough."
"You want to help?" Savlian asked. "You're joking, right?"
Savlian turned towards the gate, then to his men who were in terrible condition. The entire squad looked as though they would collapse from the slightest breeze.
"If you're serious, I might be able to put you to some use. We need to get inside the town and make sure the civilians and the Count are all right, but this Oblivion Gate has to come down as well," Savlian explained. "I sent a team in while ago to see if they could close the gate. We know they can be closed, because the enemy closed the ones they opened during the initial attack."
"A suicide mission," Saryn sighed, looking back at the Gate.
Savlian nodded gravely. "They haven't returned."
"I can do it," Ignin said. And he himself did not know where the words had come from. Something inside him was telling him that this was something he would have to do.
"What are you talking about?" Savlian asked.
"I can close the gate. You protect the civilians out here while I go shut this gate down," Ignin said.
"Let me come with you," Saryn said.
"No. Your bow will be put to better use out here. If this encampment falls the civilians at the bottom of the hill are done for," Ignin explained. "Give me half a day. If I haven't returned then do what you must."
Saryn and the others nodded. Savlian looked the most impressed. "It's a brave thing you're doing."
Ignin breathed deeply and charged at the fiery gate.
Intersection of the Red Ring Road and Green Road…
28 Last Seed 3E433
Davion and Alessia stopped at the road marker and shared a look at the Imperial City in the center of Lake Rumare.
"Well kiddo," Davion smiled. "It's been fun traveling with you, but I've got a much longer trip ahead of me. This is barely the halfway point."
Alessia chuckled in a sympathetic way. "Well good luck to you Davion. It was very nice meeting you."
"And you, Guild Mage," Davion chuckled. "Don't take studying too seriously now. Have a little fun while you're still young. Enjoy life."
And with a hearty wave, Davion headed west towards his final destination of Anvil and Alessia turned south towards Bravil.
Bravil Mage's Guild…
28 Last Seed 3E433
Bravil was, as one of the first people she met in town so eloquently described it, 'the Cloacae of Cyrodiil'. A festering swampland town complete with ragged shacks, disease ridden ponds, mosquitoes every ten feet and a drunken wastrel of a Count.
There was an odd man standing in front of a statue in the center of town. One woman commented to Alessia: "That man is always there at the same time each week. He just sits there for hours."
As Cheydinhal had been grand, Bravil was homely, but the Mage's Guild was still a place of exceptional taste. The Argonian guild head, Kud-Ei, greeted her warmly.
"Ah welcome, Associate. Perhaps you are here to earn a recommendation?" Kud-Ei asked.
Alessia nodded, and Kud-Ei's expression changed to business very quickly.
"I'm afraid I haven't had the time to prepare anything conventional. I'm preoccupied with this situation concerning Ardaline." Kud-Ei looked Alessia over. "Perhaps you could help the poor girl. I can't get directly involved for fear of embarrassing the poor girl."
"Oh, I'd be glad to help," Alessia nodded. "What's wrong?"
"It's that Varon Vamori!" Kud-Ei grunted. "I'll need you to have a chat with him and you can learn a bit about the college of Illusion while you're at it."
"Uh… okay?" Alessia asked.
"I don't get it. Some ridiculous male thing, I suppose. He's been bothering Ardaline every day for a while now. He even stole her Mage's Staff! Perhaps he thinks it's amusing: I don't know. But it needs to stop. It's making her miserable."
"I see. So you want me to get Varon to stop?" Alessia asked.
"If you can. My main concern is that you get her Mage's Staff back," Kud-Ei nodded. "See if you can charm him into giving you the answers you need."
Alessia nodded, understanding her instructions perfectly. When she had been eight she had mastered the Charm spell. She used it on her father to convince him to buy her a toy she had desperately wanted, and was instantly scolded by her mother for manipulating her own blood like that.
When she had been a bit older, her mother had explained that- as a woman- Charming came much easier. She made a somewhat crude joke about how some women not even needing spell work, which Alessia only feigned laughter at.
Alessia found Varon having a lively chat with a friend at a pub near the entrance of town called Silverhome-on-the-Water. He was a haughty looking Dunmer, but Alessia had to admit he had a certain likeability about him. Speaking animatedly and laughing heartily it was hard to believe this man could be so cruel to somebody.
Alessia focused her thoughts on the mind; how easy it was to manipulate and break. While it was what set humankind apart from the animals, it was still so fragile and so easily tempted.
Alessia set her hand on Varon's shoulder and a light green fog, visible only to Alessia, fell over him. Varon turned and smiled at Alessia.
"Yes, can I help you friend?" Varon asked.
"Varon? I am Alessia, an Associate," Alessia smiled.
"A pleasure to meet you," Varon said, and he kissed her hand.
Alessia blushed a little but it was critical for the spell that she remain in control of the conversation. She steadied her resolve and continued.
"I'm sorry to get involved in this matter, but what's this I hear about how you are treating poor Ardaline?" Alessia asked.
Varon's smile faded rather quickly and his haughty demeanor seemed drained from him. "I don't know what to say. All I want is for her to care about me, to feel the same way as I do about her. But she doesn't. I try and I try, and it just doesn't matter. It makes me furious sometimes!"
"What about her Mage's Staff?" Alessia asked.
"All right," Varon nodded. "I admit it. I took it from her. I… I don't know what I was thinking, honestly." And suddenly he grew angry. "I was trying to tell her how I feel. Again. And she wouldn't even stop to talk to me. I just got so angry." His fervor left him and his sulky demeanor returned. "I was a little ashamed afterwards, but didn't know how to apologize or give it back. I wish I could…"
"Wish you could?" Alessia asked. "What do you mean?"
Varon nodded down the bar. "I'm afraid I sold it to that man over there. Soris Arenim."
"Well you'll just have to buy it back won't you?" Alessia demanded.
Alessia took him by the hand and marched him down the aisle towards Soris Arenim who was examining the staff in great detail. After a great deal of haggling and convincing, and a bit more out of pocket cost from Varon that he'd originally expected, the Mage's Staff was returned.
Kud-Ei was most pleased with Alessia's work.
"Hm. Perhaps you would care to assist me with another matter?" Kud-Ei asked. "This is a personal request and won't affect your status in the Mage's Guild."
"I'd be happy to," Alessia nodded.
"Well… It's about my friend Henantier," Kud-Ei began.
Imperial City Waterfront, Garden of Dareloth…
28 Last Seed 3E433
"All too easy," R'darra sighed handing a small bag of gold and a parchment to Armand Christophe.
R'darra had been asked to do a special favor of retrieving the taxes that Heironymus Lex had collected from the poor on the Waterfront. Other thieves had tried, and been caught, but R'darra simply strolled into the South Watch Tower, seized the goods and been out of there before anybody was even suspicious of her.
"You have it?" Armand asked in disbelief.
"You doubted my skills?" R'darra grinned.
"Well, Footpad, I think your talents might be of particular use to the Gray Fox," Armand nodded. "If you're up for it."
"Tell me," R'darra grunted.
"The guild has received a particular 'request' to obtain a unique statuette. It is the bust of Llathasa Indarys, the recently slain Countess of Cheydinhal. You will, of course, be paid a modest sum. Do you want this job?" Armand asked.
"Of course. I've always wanted to visit Cheydinhal," R'darra chuckled.
Cheydinhal…
28 Last Seed 3E433
Azeg-Rael found the abandoned building quite easily, especially as it was the only building in town in an absolute state of disrepair. Windows boarded up, the front gate reduced to rubble; the entire abode in all ways and forms completely uninhabitable.
He waited for the area to clear and then crept into the house. The inside of the house was, if possible, worse than the outside. Thick cobwebs, broken furniture, and a general air of decay. He made his way down to the basement and found a large gap in the wall, along with a stone walkway.
Following the walkway a short distance he saw an elaborate arched doorway, and on it a chilling mural. At the bottom a picture of a woman in a black dress holding a dagger was overseeing four tiny misshapen forms. Overlooking this scene and taking up most of the door was a large skull with a black hand in the center of the forehead. The lining of the hand glowed red casting an eerie light upon the scene.
As he reached for the doors handle, a ghostly voice whispered out:
"What is the color of night?"
Azeg-Rael was not sure what this meant, but answered as he'd been instructed. "Sanguine, my brother."
At these words, the door did not so much open as fade transparent. Azeg-Rael walked straight through and found the door had turned solid behind him again, the ghostly voice whispering: "Welcome home."
Waiting for him was a fellow Argonian. She wore shrouds of black armor which covered her entire body. A quick glance around made Azeg-Rael realize this was something of a style, or perhaps even a uniform of the Dark Brotherhood.
"Greetings, Brother! Greetings!" She said warmly. "I am Ocheeva, mistress of this Sanctuary. Lucien has told me all about you. I welcome you to the Dark Brotherhood! You stand now in our Sanctuary. May it serve as your new home, a place of comfort and security whenever the need arises."
"Thank you for your kind welcome," Azeg-Rael nodded. "I hope there is plenty of work to do."
Ocheeva gave him a sly smile, a twisted and cruel glee about it. "When you are ready for a contract, go speak with Vicente Valtieri. He handles all 'assignments' for new family members."
Ocheeve handed him a pair of his own Shrouded Armor. Azeg-Rael excused himself to the private quarters on the right to change into it. It fit him perfectly, and somehow it made him feel safe.
The other family members of this chapter were an interesting lot. There was another Argonian named Teinaava, who was quick to comment on Azeg-Rael's potential.
"You are Argonian, yes. But you are no Shadowscale. What chaos you must have known as a hatchling! Thank Sithis you have come home at last. Welcome," Teinaava smiled, patting Azeg-Rael on the shoulder.
Azeg-Rael had heard the rumors. Argonian hatchlings born under the sign of the Shadow were called Shadowscales, and contracted to the Dark Brotherhood to learn the ways of assassination so that they could be used as stealth agents for the Black Marsh. Azeg-Rael himself was born under the sign of the Serpent.
The next person he met was a boisterous Orc. Even the serious-mannered Azeg-Rael could not help but be a little amused by his antics.
"Gogron gro-Bolmog. Welcome! Welcome to the family! I'd hug you, but Ocheeva told me not to," Gogron laughed heartily.
Azeg-Rael noticed that Gogron did not wear the Shrouded Armor, instead opting for a perfect set of steel armor.
"I know what you're thinking. Old Gogron's too big to be sneaky. Well you're right! It doesn't matter anyways. I like going in, bashing the place up and getting the job done the fun way."
A short distance from him was a Bosmer named Telaendrill. She nodded. "Warmest welcome to you. I am Telaendrill, Wood Elf and loyal daughter of Sithis. I hope you find out Sanctuary to your liking."
There was a small hallway leading down in the back of the Sanctuary. Resting on the first landing was a Khajitt wearing what appeared to be Mage's Guild Apprentice Robes. Perhaps he'd been a member before he found his true calling.
"If it isn't the newest member of the family. Let's get one thing straight—the Tenets prevent me from killing you. But I don't have to like you."
Azeg-Rael would learn later that his name was M'raaj-Dar.
Perhaps the most interesting person he met when he examined the training room. A young Breton girl. Upon seeing him she smiled. "Good to finally meet you, Brother. I hope you are getting along all right."
And out of nowhere, she leaned in and kissed him.
This was certainly out of the ordinary. The friendliest welcome he'd received thus far was Gogron's stone-fisted pat on the back. And the shock of the moment didn't stop there. He suddenly found that he could not move. He looked at her with shock and rage. She stepped back and chuckled a bit.
The effect wore off and Azeg-Rael lifted the Blade of Woe. "Do you want to get killed?"
"That was a lesson, Brother," she smiled. "Antoinetta Marie. Born, as you may have guessed, under the sign of the Lover. I can paralyze others with a simple kiss."
"I see, and what is this lesson you are so eager to teach me?" Azeg-Rael demanded. He had not lowered his blade.
"Be creative," she nodded. "Murder in the name of Sithis is an art form."
At the bottom room down the sloping hallway, was Vicente Valtieri's room. The man was a Breton and, through obvious signs, a Vampire.
"Warmest greetings to you, Brother. I trust you've already spoken with Ocheeva? I am Vicente Valtieri," Vicente noticed Azeg-Rael's apprehension. He frowned slightly. "Please, do not let my appearance unnerve you. The needs and Tenets of the Dark Brotherhood come before my own needs as a vampire."
"I apologize, Brother," Azeg-Rael nodded. "I have just never met a vampire before."
"I was stricken with vampirism three hundred years ago, while on an expedition deep into the Ashlands of Vvardenfell. For nearly a hundred years I hunted in secret, until the Dark Brotherhood found me. Now I have a family that accepts and even values my unique gifts. Perhaps, in the future, when I feel you have earned the right, I will offer you a chance to become a hunter of the night. Now, are you prepared for you first contract?"
Azeg-Rael sat down before Vicente, and nodded.
Cheydinhall…
28 Last Seed 3E433
R'darra had to shell out fifteen gold coins to get the information she wanted, but a friendly beggar identifying herself as "Luckless Lucina" told her all that R'darra needed to know. The bust was kept in the Chapel undercroft and a Guard had been posted to keep watch over it.
It was night now, and that meant it was do or die time. R'darra snuck down the road, trying to keep a low profile.
Walking by she heard a drunkard singing loudly on the bridge across the river.
"Fllyyyyin… fllyyyin in the sky! Cliff racer flys sooo hiigggh. Fllyyyin!"
"Somebody should kill that man," R'darra groaned in annoyance.
"Stop right there!" A guardsman shouted.
R'darra looked up and saw a guard staring right at her.
"Me?" R'darra asked.
The guard shook his head. "No, excuse me, ma'am." The guard gently pushed her aside and walked up to the drunkard. "Fifth time this week you old codger. You know public drunkenness carries a fine!"
R'darra chuckled to herself and entered the Chapel of Arkay in the center of town. The chapel was beautiful, just as R'darra would expect. She was not terribly religious though, and thus felt no qualms about what she was about to.
She picked the lock on the Chapel Undercroft and made her way down the stairs.
The room was filled with pillars and coffins. R'darra had heard that the Undercrofts were nothing more than tombs for those with religious significance. She skulked low, moving from pillar to pillar. Glancing around her shoulder she saw a female guardsman speaking with a legion soldier.
"Saw a mudcrab the other day. Disgusting creatures," the woman groaned.
R'darra crept down the side path while the two were distracted and saw an ornate coffin surrounded by flowers, candles, and- standing on the end- a beautiful bust.
This did bother R'darra a bit. Dishonoring the dead had terrible consequences, but there was no way around it.
"Please forgive me," R'darra sighed, as she lifted the bust off the top of the tomb.
She felt a chill fill her bones, and as she turned around the ghostly visage of Llathasa Indarys stood, staring at her with soulless eyes and pointing an accusatory finger at R'darra.
"M-m-milady!" R'darra shivered.
Suddenly, Llathasa's ghost disappeared and the two guards stood in her place.
"Thieve's Guild!" The woman shouted.
"Stop right there criminal scum!" The legion soldiers shouted. "Nobody breaks the law on my watch! Your stolen goods are now forfeit. Pay the fine or it's off to jail with you!"
"Sorry, dear," R'darra shouted, still slightly unnerved by the ghost's appearance. "I'm broke. I guess I'll just have to resist arrest."
R'darra held the bust firmly under one arm and raised her dagger with the other.
"Then pay with your blood!" The soldier shouted rushing in.
The soldier slashed at R'darra who retreated, jumping against the far wall and then bouncing off it and over the soldier all together. The woman thrusted her sword at R'darra but she rolled out of the way and ran to the top of the stairs.
"You'd better leave. I head this undercroft is haunted!" R'darra cackled as he she ran out of the Chapel.
R'darra fled through the streets, desperate to find a place to lie low. She saw a likely target, an abandoned looking house near the east wall. She took her chances, jumped in the door and shut it before the guard noticed where she had gone.
"I'll just wait here for a bit," she sighed.
Imperial City Arena District…
29 Last Seed 3E433
The long journey north had been well worth the trip. Borin gro-Kromlock stared at the majestic arena and heard the cheers from inside.
"I imagine you'll get a better view from one of our fine seats," said a short Bosmer man who ran the betting station.
The man, named Hundolin, explained that there were two "teams". The Blue Team and the Yellow Team. Borin placed a 25 gold bet on the Blue Team and went upstairs to watch the match.
A loud Imperial announcer shouted out over the din.
"Good people of the Imperial City! Welcome to the arena! You came to watch a fight, and a fight you shall have! Blue Team versus the Yellow Team! A match to the death! Lower the gates!"
The arena was a massive circle, surrounded by walls and four flaming pillars on each corner of a central "square". A smaller circle hung in the middle of the arena with a grate. The grate was stained with blood.
The Blue Team fighter rushed out from underneath Borin's row. A young woman carrying a longsword and a shield. The Yellow Team had opted for a young man using only his fists!
Needless to say, the match was a short one, the Blue Team triumphing with absurd ease. Borin collected his gold.
"So, Hundolin, my man. Where does one sign up for this?" Borin asked.
"If you want to be a combatant, head down into the Bloodworks and speak with Owyn," Hundolin said. He looked Borin over skeptically. "Nice knowing you, sir."
"Enough commentary," Borin grunted. "Bloodworks, eh? Sounds like a lovely place."
Sarcasm aside, the Bloodworks was not a pleasant looking place. It was barely more than a dungeon with sleeping quarters and training quarters all rolled into one. The smell of blood was fierce and the air was thick with sweat and sinew. The Redguard Blademaster, Owyn, seemed to share Hundolin's skepticism.
"You what?" Owyn asked. "You want to be a combatant? Hahahaha! Look at you! My granny could beat you, and she's dead!"
Borin flexed his muscles menacingly. He did not like this guys attitude at all.
"Wait you're serious aren't you?" Owyn asked, his demeanor changing rapidly. He sighed. "What is it with you people? You come in, want to be combatants, and your entrails end up decorating my Red Room. All right. It's your funeral. Welcome to the Arena you filthy Pit Dog. Go grab a Battle Raiment from the closet there. There's Light and Heavy, pick whichever you like."
Borin walked over to the closet. The Light Raiment didn't even look like it would fit him, so he opted for the steel plated Heavy Raiment.
"Hmph. Wear it proudly, and keep it in good condition so I can give it to some other suicidal idiot after you're dead," Owyn said, coolly.
"Okay, buddy, enough from you. When do I get to bash some skulls in?" Borin demanded.
He felt adrenaline pumping through his veins and suddenly made a mental connection. Perhaps this was what Owyn did. Tick off the combatants to get the blood pumping through their veins. Maybe it helped them. Maybe it made for a better show. Borin wasn't sure.
"Okay. You're on my team, the Blue Team. You fight against the Yellow Team. You got that? You can use any weapon you like, anything you need to win is legal. The only rules are you have to wear that Battle Raiment and you can't loot the corpses when and if you manage to win, you got that?"
"Good, good, let's get on with it," Borin nodded.
"Fine. I've got a match starting in about fifteen minutes. I was gonna have Tamere do it, but since you're in such a hurry to get killed go ahead," Owyn nodded. "Good luck. And may Azura have mercy on your soul."
Borin walked around to the entrance to the aptly named "Red Room." Looking up, he saw that same bloodstained grate. He walked past it a short ways up a small curved incline. This led out into the Arena proper.
Borin took a deep breath, and headed out into the Arena.
Castle Chorrol…
28 Last Seed 3E433
Countess Arriana Valga of Chorrol was a lovely woman. She greeted Will brightly and with a smile. Sure, she was a bit older, but Will could tell in her prime days she had been beautiful.
"You asked for me, your Grace?" Will asked, bowing.
"I heard that you helped out poor Seed-Neeus rescue her daughter," Countess Valga smiled. "I've been looking for somebody with your investigative skills to help me solve a little mystery."
"Milady, I apologize, but I'm not really an adventurer or a detective. I'm a merchant," Will nodded.
"Well then, you shall have a bounty of gold and gems for your success. Certainly that should help your shop?" The Countess smiled.
Will realized there was no getting out of this one. He sighed, and nodded. "Okay, tell me what is going on."
The Countess nodded. "It seems someone has taken away an heirloom that is quite dear to me. I want you to help me recover a stolen painting. The painting was of my lost love, the Count Valga, and it has been stolen from my bedchamber. If you bring me the painting and bring the culprit to justice, I will reward you handsomely."
Will nodded. "Alrighty. Do you have any leads?"
The Countess nodded gravely. "I suspect either Chanel or Orgnolf. Orgnolf is a drunkard with very little money. He might have sold that painting to make a little extra money. Chanel seems odd too. She always loved that painting, though I could never truly tell why."
"Well, um… okay. I'll ask around and gather some clues," Will nodded.
"Thank you. Here is a ring of keys. This should get you anywhere you need to go in Castle Chorrol," Countess Valga explained. "Oh and one more thing. Don't go accusing the wrong person now, or I shall be quite cross with you."
She was still smiling, but there was a very serious glint in her eyes. Will would make certain he knew what he was talking about before he accused anybody.
And so Will's hunt began. The Countess's steward had a lot to say on the subject, commenting on Orgnolf's drinking problem and how he'd often asked for money to fund the habit. The Captain of the Guard had a similar suggestion.
When he met Orgnolf himself the man certainly looked like a drunkard. He was a fellow Nord, much older than Will and much meaner too. He also seemed ill-disposed towards talking.
"Who are you to ask me anything? I'd just as soon ask a Goblin Maiden to a dance than answer your stupid questions," Orgnolf cursed.
Will didn't have time to deal with the drunken idiot and he felt that this was turning out to be an open and shut case. But he decided he would go speak with Chanel anyways just to be thorough.
Chanel was quite the opposite of Orgnolf. She was a lovely Redguard woman and was unfailingly polite.
"Where was I the night the painting was stolen? I was in the courtyard taking star readings. I finished up and went into the dining area, just off the Great Hall for a small glass of wine. I studied my charts until it was time to sleep. I hope that helps," Chanel nodded. "I wish I could do more to help you."
"No, my dear, you've been very helpful," Will smiled. He saw a palette and brush on her desk. "Oh, are you a painter?" Will asked.
Chanel looked back at the brush and palette. She smiled awkwardly and put them away. "Well I'm trying, you know. It's not easy. I'll probably just stick with astronomy."
Will laughed. "Anyways, I better continue my investigation. You have a good one."
Will headed back to Orgnolf and decided to lay on the pressure. He figured he might be able to squeeze a confession out of him and get on with his life. He still had a lot of places to visit.
"Look, things are looking real bad for you buddy, so you better answer my questions," Will coerced.
"You don't scare me. Look I spent that night arguing with some dumb delivery boy who dropped a shipment of mead to the castle. I didn't steal no painting and I got nothing more to say on the subject," Orgnolf cursed. "You don't have any proof anyways."
Will looked him dead in the eyes. "Maybe not, but I'm gonna get some."
Will headed to the dining area and sat down at the table. He grabbed a glass of mead and took a drink. An Orcish steward sat down next to him.
"Orok gro-Ghoth. You must be the guy working the case," he laughed.
"For all the good it's doing me," Will sighed. "I'm a merchant, this isn't what I do, you know."
"Yeah, I hear you buddy," Orok sighed.
"You don't have any clues do you?" Will asked.
"Well I ain't seen much of Chanel or Orgnolf during the night of the theft. Chanel likes to spend her time in her room and Orgnolf was arguing with that boy. Well I mean there was no point in going outside that night, what with all the rain that was falling," Orok chuckled. "Worst storm we've had in years."
"Yeah, I think I was on the road when that one blew our way towards Anvil," Will laughed. "Imagine being on horseback on the road in a bad neighborhood and it's pouring down rain. You know merchants keep getting attacked on the Gold Road so I was nervous enough as it is. The sky was completely black. No moon light, not even…"
And suddenly something dawned on Will. "Star… light… You say it was raining?"
Chanel opened her door. "Oh, Will. How is the investigation going?"
"Pretty good," Will nodded. "I think I found out who did it. And what's worse is I think I found another crime in the making."
"My word!" Chanel gasped. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you see, my dear. By now the culprit knows that the Countess won't rest until the painting has been returned to her. So our culprit will do whatever it takes to shake the heat. I think they're going to try and replicate it," Will began.
His back was turned to her, as he stared at a painting on her wall. But he could tell Chanel was sweating now.
"That's… horrible," Chanel said unconvincingly.
"It is. This painting, on the other hand, is very good. And fairly new by the looks of it. The oil hasn't congealed quite, so it's still got that glossy finish. Whoever did this has some prodigious artistic ability," Will turned to face her. "And is a very good actress."
Chanel gulped, sighed, and nodded. "What gave me away?"
"You said you were taking star readings. A little hard to do that in the middle of a thunderstorm," Will explained.
Chanel moved over the painting and lifted it out of the frame. Behind it was the painting of Count Valga. Chanel rolled it up and handed it to Will.
"Please, don't tell the Countess. I loved the Count. I love the Countess too, but when he died I just could not handle my grief. I saw her fawning over this painting and, I admit, I was jealous," Chanel sighed. "I am undone."
Will couldn't help but feel a little pity for the poor girl.
"Oh! You have returned!" The Countess exclaimed as Will walked up to her. "Any luck?" He handed her the rolled up portrait. "This is it! This is the painting? Whom did you accuse?"
Will sighed. "It was Chanel, your Grace." And he explained what he'd learned.
The Countess sighed and nodded. "Chanel painted that painting, you know. I am shocked that she would steal it, but your evidence is without question. Chanel… will not be imprisoned. I am not without pity. But she will be banished from Castle Chorrol. I no longer trust her enough to keep her in my employ."
Will nodded.
"But enough about that. Here is your reward. A fine bounty of gold and gems, as promised."
And the steward handed Will a decent sized sack filled with Septims and a small box which held a ruby, sapphire, emerald and diamond.
"And now, you no doubt must be running behind for helping me, so I bid you farewell," the Countess smiled. "Thank you for a job well done."
At long last, Will returned to his horse, added the sack of gold to his saddlebag and hitched up his cart. He saw Chanel saddling up a horse as well. The two of them exchanged a sad look as they went their separate ways.
Shrine of Nocturnal…
29 Last Seed 3E433
The next shrine that Cierra had heard of was the shrine of Nocturnal. It was a short distance from Leyawin which meant a great deal of walking and arriving in the wee hours of the morning.
Cierra was suddenly aware that she had nothing to offer Nocturnal, but it didn't seem to matter as the statue of the robed woman spoke.
"Night among strangers. Secrets in the dark. Nocturnal is here. But my Eye is blind and drowned. Stolen from my shrine and hid in dark waters. To steal from a God is most unwise. In Leyawin two Argonians think themselves secret, but the Eye has seen them. Find these thieves in the city that spans the waters. Learn where they hide my Eye. Retrieve the Eye of Nocturnal, mortal. Return it to me and I shall look favorably upon you."
Cierra bowed and made her way south to Leyawin. There was a great problem with this task already. It was the Trans-Niben. There were a lot of Argonians. Did Nocturnal have no other clues?
Preparing herself for a long days hunt she entered the city of Leyawin and began to question everybody she saw. As she predicted most of them knew nothing. However one man mentioned two names, Weebam-Na and Bejeen.
"They've been bragging about some big score they made recently. Some rare jewel or something," The man sighed. "I tell you that Bejeen wasn't such a bad girl until she hooked up with Weebam-Na."
Cierra thanked the man for his advice and made her way towards Weebam-Na's house. The man was only too eager to point it out.
Cierra knew that they would never confess to stealing such a sacred artifact, but she had a plan. She sat down in the bushes near their house and stealthily cracked a window. She turned herself invisible once more and listened.
For a few hours, nothing interesting happened, but then she heard an Argonian woman.
"But what if the trolls eat it?"
And then the man. "Trolls don't like water. Trolls don't swim. The Eye is perfectly safe in Tidewater Cave. So relax."
"Tidewater Cave," Cierra pondered. She opened her map and looked. A short distance southeast of Leyawin on the shoreline of the ocean was a small cave with that name.
Tidewater Cave was appropriately named. Half of the cavern was submerged in water. Beneath the surface of the water in one of the chambers, Cierra saw it: A glowing spherical object. She dove down and retrieved it. How Trolls eating the massive thing could possibly be a concern of Bejeen's was beyond Cierra, but with difficulty she managed to carry it back to the Shrine of Nocturnal.
"My Eye is returned. And I once again see in to the Darkness that is your world. We mock the thieves, for bitter is their loss. You, mortal, may take this."
A small instrument appeared before Cierra. It looked like a lockpick, but had a much more ornate feel to it.
"The Skeleton Key will open any door you require and it shall never break," Nocturnal explained. "But now, mortal, permit me a question. Why do you seek the artifacts of the Daedra?"
Cierra looked back at Nocturnal and shrugged her shoulders. "I have set myself this task to prove my faithfulness. I wish to learn more about you."
"But why?"
Cierra smiled. "I hope to find the answer out myself during my journey."
Kvatch…
29 Last Seed 3E433
Davion reached the encampment by early morning, the stars still out and the rain still pouring. The first thing he noticed was the surprising state of the people here. He had heard from a fleeing high elf he'd met on the road about the attack on Kvatch and decided that as it was on the way he would go see what he could do to help.
He had expected to see a bandit attack or some loose beasts. The thing that this man was describing, a gate to Oblivion, it was surely an exaggeration or maybe even a sick joke. But seeing it up close like this, it was unlike anything he'd ever imagined. The people of the encampment were now treating their wounded and trying to see who had made it out alive.
After checking that everybody was alright he rushed to the top of the hill. The Watch was still battling the hordes of daedra that kept popping out of the large fiery gate, a Bosmer woman giving them ranged support with impressive marksmanship.
Davion didn't wait to be told. He raised his Claymore and sunk it into the hide of one of the beasts.
Savlian Mattius turned to him. "Who are you?"
"Davion! Fighter's Guild! Thought you could use a hand!" Davion shouted.
"The Fighter's Guild is here? Praise Talos!" Savlian cried.
"Not the whole guild, I'm the only guy in the area. You'll have to settle for me!" Davion replied slashing across the chest of a large reptilian monster with a sloped head.
"I'll settle for any help I can get at the moment!" Savlian replied.
"I'm worried about Ignin. It's been almost half a day now. Shouldn't he have accomplished something?" Saryn asked.
"My dear, I sincerely think Ignin is dead," Savlian said sorely.
Plane of Oblivion, Kvatch Gate…
29 Last Seed 3E433
Oblivion was a horrible place. Red lava was the sea and barren rock the land. The sky was blood red and flashed with that same horrible heat lightning that crashed above the skies of Kvatch back in Cyrodiil.
After rescuing a soldier named Ilend Vonius, perhaps the last survivor of the group sent in, he had been pointed in the direction of a huge tower which cast its shadow across the entire island.
And so after a long journey of avoiding lava pits, dodging the eerily hostile plantlife, cutting down monsters and narrowly avoiding a falling rock trap set up on a sloped hillside, he found himself within this massive tower.
The spire was at least a thousand feet tall, and in its center a massive pillar of fire rose up through the floors to a distant and practically invisible roof. Passages along the side were the only way to make it up this monstrous beacon.
As vicious as the fauna had been the guards of this tower were even moreso. Tall shock troopers wielding maces and longswords of broken rubble and sinewy hilt. Ignin recalled the "Dremora" and "Daedric" methods of weaponscraft from some lost memory within him.
As he entered the first side room he was accosted by two of these "Dremora". The first swung at him wildly with a mace. Ignin dodged deftly and plunged his long sword into his stomach, the only soft part of the armor that he could immediately identify. The second attacked from a distance, wearing a black robe and sending blasts of lightning soaring just past Ignin's ear.
As Ignin charged, he was hit in the chest with one of these spells and fell back. The Dremora stepped on his longsword and raised his hands over him for the kill. Ignin reached at his side for his war axe and plunged it into the Dremora's face. The Dremora stumbled backwards and Ignin swiftly withdrew his bow and finished him with an arrow.
The hike up to the top of the tower seemed to have taken as long as the journey through Oblivion. He now found himself outside the tower on a bridge that led to a smaller tower, and looked down at the several hundred foot drop with unease.
He began to cross slowly and methodically. One misstep would end his journey quite definitely, and he had resolved upon entering this horrible place that he would not die in it.
Inside the other tower he saw a grated ceiling above him. A Dremora was standing guard over a man in a bloody cage. Ignin rushed to the top of the tower, but the Dremora did not attack him.
He smiled a bloody smile and spoke in a voice that sounded as if he was speaking it from the other side of water; an eerie dual-tone voice that gargled more than spoke.
"You should not be here mortal!" The Dremora shouted. "Oblivion will overtake your world. You cannot stop it."
Ignin threw his war axe at the Dremora who simply batted it aside with his long sword, but that was all the distraction Ignin needed. He raised his bow and shot two arrows simultaneously into his neck.
The Dremora fell to the ground and the man in the cage started shouting.
"The key! The key! Get the key!"
Ignin saw that with the Dremora's last breath he had cast aside a small key and it was sliding towards one of the holes in the grate. He leapt forward and caught it at the last moment. The man laughed in triumph.
"You shoot like a Bosmer and are as quick as the Khajitt!"
"Will this open your cage?" Ignin asked.
"No!" The man sighed. "It is too late for me. That key will open the path to the Sigil Stone at the top of the tower. I heard this beast talk to another of his kind. They said that the Sigil Stone powered the gates, so if there is a way to close them, removing the Sigil Stone should do it."
"We have to get you out of here."
"No!" The man gasped. "If you don't hurry and close the gate then countless more will die while you try to save me. Just go to the top of the tower do you understand?"
Ignin saw the man toying with a dagger he had somehow managed to hide from the Dremora and knew what he intended to do. And yet the resolve in the man's voice set Ignin in motion.
"Well if you are set," And with that Ignin pressed a lever on the wall to open the cage. The man fell onto the grate with an exasperated groan. "I've seen quite enough people die today. Get back to the gate entrance. If you run you might be able to make it. But I'll not wait for you if it will make you feel any better."
The man looked up with a mixture of annoyance and gratitude. "You should have let me die."
"I'm sure I will. These Planes of Oblivion are dangerous places. You may as well take out a few Dremora with you," and with that Ignin handed the man the Dremora Longsword.
"You've got a point, lad," the man laughed
Kvatch…
29 Last Seed 3E433
Somebody came running out of the gate, but it wasn't a Dremora or Ignin.
"Menien!" Savlian shouted seeing the battered body of his comrade. "You're the second alive since Ilend returned to us!"
"And the last I'm afraid," Menien cursed. "I had to crawl down to the bottom of a tower and hike across bloody rocks to inform you that the others are all dead."
"All of them? Rowen? Bartz? Sabein?" Savlian cursed.
"Rowen was killed trying to defend Ilend over there. Bartz attempted to flee and was pushed into the lava by one of those damned falling rocks! Sabein was thrown off the top of the tower for the amusement of the Dremora," Menien cursed.
"What about Ignin?" Saryn asked.
"If you mean that Imperial bloke with the iron armor, he's doing alright. Took down a bunch of Dremora and saved my neck to boot. He's on his way to the Sigil Keep right now, should be done with this gate in minutes," Menien explained.
"We haven't seen many more Daedra attacking. Perhaps he's got them all trained on him," Savlian began to laugh. "This is a good sign."
Planes of Oblivion, Kvatch Gate, Sigilus Sanctum…
29 Last Seed 3E433
The final chamber of the tower had a breathtaking evil about it. The flames shot upward through the central spiral and into the basin that held the Sigil Stone. The staircases were made of bone and sinew of some long-forgotten monster and the Dremora guard patrolled more thoroughly than ever.
The battle was bloody. Ignin took another bolt of lightning to the back and retaliated by firing an arrow into the rope holding up a corpse. The corpse landed on the Dremora mage, pinning it temporarily.
Where had he learned to fight like this? Had he been a soldier in his former life? A crusader? An assassin?
The other Dremora mage summoned a reptile with a sloped forehead.
"Kill him Clannfear!" The Dremora shouted.
Ignin smashed through the beasts skull with his war axe and then slashed down the Dremora with his long sword. Up one more flight of stairs he saw the Sigil Stone. What was he to do? Simply retrieve the stone?
Throwing caution to the wind as more Dremora charged up the stairs after him he tackled the stone, which was about half the size of a watermelon and leapt down to the lower level. Fire engulfed the world around Ignin, but its heat did not sear him. And suddenly in a flash of light he found himself lying once again on the sweet ground of Cyrodiil.
Kvatch…
29 Last Seed 3E433
"Ignin!" Savlian shouted, rushing to help Ignin up. "Thank the Nine! You closed the Gate! This is our chance to launch a counterattack!"
Savlian called all of his soldiers around. Ignin recognized Saryn and was grateful to see her still alive.
"You closed the Oblivion Gate?" A redguard man asked him, shaking his hand. "Davion, Fighter's Guild. I'm impressed. "
"Ignin. It's a pleasure to meet you," Ignin replied nodding. "But you say a counterattack?"
"Yes. Half of the citizens are still trapped in Kvatch!" Savlian explained. "And they are likely still under Daedric attack! Brother Martin wisely gathered them all into the Chapel, which through some miracle still stands. The daedra, it seems, cannot cross into the chapel," Savlian smiled.
"Wait, did you say Martin?" Ignin asked, suddenly remember why he had come to this hellish place. "I've been sent to find him!"
"The Chapel would be the place, but please, help us liberate Kvatch first! You have the most experience fighting these monsters and we would be glad of your assistance!" Savlian begged.
"The best way to assure safe passage for this man is to clear the road of enemies," Saryn suggested.
Ignin nodded. "You're right. Okay, do you have a plan?"
A small squad of Imperial Legion soldiers ran up the hill behind them.
"The Imperial Legion, at last," Savlian said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
"Forgive our lateness but Kvatch is not the only place where these accursed gates have popped up! It would seem all over Cyrodiil we are under attack!" The captain cursed.
"Are the other cities okay?" Davion asked, thinking of his home of Chorrol.
"No other cities have been attacked directly. But these gates are appearing in the wilderness. It's almost like they're feeling out the sneakiest places to attack us," one of the soldiers shivered. "But I see the gate at Kvatch has closed."
"Thanks to this man right here," Ilend said, pointing at Ignin.
"You fought the Daedra?" The captain asked in disbelief. "Talos must favor you."
"The battle is not over yet!" Savlian shouted. "We still have civilians to save and I fear we are running out of time. "
"We are at your command," the captain of the Legion Troops nodded.
"Very good. First, we are all going to charge into the city plaza and wipe out the dremora there. There can't be too many left, but you never know," Savlian said. "After that, we are going to split up. Ignin, Davion, Saryn."
The three cast glances at each other and then turned back to Savlian.
"You three show great potential at fighting these monsters but as you are not my soldiers I cannot order you to do anything. However I would recommend that you head to the Gate House and open the drawbridge gate. Us soldiers will wait for you to open it and then we will take back the Castle," Savlian explained.
The three nodded, as if there was no other choice to be made.
"Soldiers, listen up!" Savlian said. "Once we get inside the castle our first priority is the Count. None of us will retreat until he is safe, is that understood?"
The soldiers all shouted their assent.
"Alright then! Ready?" Savlian raised his sword and started to run towards the city gates. "For Kvatch!"
When the gates opened the men's morale was boosted even more to find only a handful of dremora and their pet monsters left. The large force slaughtered them within minutes.
"Alright! Ilend, Menien! Make sure the people in the Chapel are alright. Tell them to stay there until we are done here!"
"Yes sir!" Ilend said. "I think Menien could use a healer at any rate!"
Menien was on his last legs. The scant bit of fighting had still done a number on him and he panted, bearly able to move under the weight of the chainmail that had been tossed over him before the battle began.
"Aye! Take care of him!" Savlian shouted. "Ignin, Davion, Saryn! To the Gate House!"
The three charged up over the rubble to the back end of town. There were a few scattered dremora here, but nothing that they couldn't handle. At the end of the road they found themselves at a corner watchtower. A short tunnel trip later led them to the Gate House.
The gates opened and the true battle began. The dremora had gathered themselves within the castle gates. Saryn and Ignin provided ranged support, but the soldiers had the situation under control, knocking down the weakened dremora. A half-hour of fighting and the castle was theirs again.
The Count, however…
"Captain Mattius!" A Kvatch soldier shouted, holding up a small signet ring. "The Count is dead!"
The morale that had run so high through the fight failed them. Savlian smashed his sword against the side of the wall, shattering it.
"And so another falls," Savlian sighs. "You do not need to tell me why you were delayed, gentlemen."
The Imperial Legion soldiers shifted uncomfortably.
"If this fate has befallen us, then the Emperor is dead," Savlian sighed.
"We have won one battle though," Ignin said. "And there is hope. I must speak with Brother Martin immediately."