Chapter V: The Mythic Dawn
Frostcrag Spire…
24 Frost Fall 4E21
The clock struck midnight and once again Aywin stood up from her seat and moved around the room. The Bosmer and Nord could not help but admire her as she floated around the room. Her hand rested on yet another book.
Without giving any indication as to the meaning of her actions, she opened it, read a few passages silently to herself, and then closed the book.
"My lady?" The Khajitt asked.
Aywin turned, as though she had momentarily forgotten she had company, and smiled.
"Forgive me. Old tradition, and quite impossible to break even for visitors," she said. This didn't really explain anything, however she gave no indication of offering more meaning behind her words at this time.
"Do please continue, milady," The Bosmer said. "I am very curious to know what happens next."
Aywin nodded and returned to her seat. "There are those who kill out of anger or fear. There are those who kill by occupation, such as the Dark Brotherhood. But some kill to bring darkness into this world, even if they believe it to be for a greater good. At this time, one particular sect of these people called themselves the Mythic Dawn."
Cloud Ruler Temple…
3 Hearthfire 3E433
Martin, Jauffre and Ignin sat in the Great Hall. A roaring fire in the chimney was keeping the troops warm as they went about their daily rituals. The warmth did not seem to reach the table where the three men sat hunched over maps, scrolls and books.
"What is our next move to be?" Martin asked.
"I am grateful that we have made it this far, but to be honest this fortress will only forestall the adversary, not shut him out completely," Jauffre said.
"If Martin is to light the Dragonfires, hiding him here indefinitely is not an option," Ignin said.
He now stood wearing a full set of armor specific to the Blades, except for the helmet which he found somewhat uncomfortable. At his side was his iron dagger and war axe. Strapped across his back was a refined silver shortsword, and his bow. At the small of his back was a sideways hilt to hold his newest weapon, a katana- ceremonial weapon of the Blades, but powerful to be sure. His satchel, money pouch and portable alchemy kit sat on his belt. Throw in the shield and he felt more like a caravan than a soldier, but he supposed it was better to be over-prepared than under.
"I agree," Jauffre said. "Our first priority should be to get back the Amulet of Kings. Baurus has been doing some work along that front."
Ignin looked up at Jauffre who nodded. "Very well," Ignin said. "I suppose I'll return to the Imperial City and try to find Baurus."
"Be careful," Jauffre warned. "As a Blade many will view you as a symbol of respect, while others will try to put a dagger in your back."
"I know what we're up against," Ignin nodded. "I'll return with Baurus and hopefully the Amulet of Kings."
Cheydinhal Sanctuary…
3 Hearthfire 3E433
Azeg-Rael lay in bed, contemplating the murders he had been permitted so far. He had murdered the cheat, the feeble old man, the pirate captain, and the drunken highborn.
That last murder had been particularly disappointing. While he snuck through the house without being detected once and staged the crime perfectly as instructed, he did not cast the finishing blow himself directly.
Perhaps this is what Vicente meant by the thrill of murder. His bloodlust seemed to grow with each passing day. And yet for the past three days, there had been no contract. He sat in the living quarters, drinking some mead.
What a waste of his talents. Surely there must be plenty of people who he could murder in the name of Sithis. Why waste time with all of these contracts? He reached for an apple, but he felt a soft hand smack it away.
"What is this?" Azeg-Rael hissed.
"I wouldn't eat that apple if I were you," came the voice of Antoinetta Marie. "It's poisoned."
"Another of your tricks?" Azeg-Rael shrugged, reaching instead for a loaf of bread. He paused and showed it to Antoinetta who nodded. This did not exactly reassure him, but his tentative bite did not yield any horrible side effects, so he pressed on.
"We keep those apples handy for missions. Very useful. Don't worry. They're the only poisoned thing we carry around here. If you want a real apple, they're in the cupboard. Don't eat any in this barrel."
"I will bear that in mind," Azeg-Rael nodded.
He had come to terms with his fellow brothers and sisters. Antoinetta Marie was unbearably cheerful and bloodthirsty, but was at least helpful. Teinaava was crafty, but he had the most in common with him. Ocheeva was the boss, but did not seem like it, often sharing her adventures with the rest of them. Gogron was so loud and boisterous all the time, but there were a few times where even the stone-hearted Azeg-Rael found him humorous. M'raaj-Dar was determined to hate him and that was fine by him. And Vicente was calm, patient and understanding, making him an excellent mentor.
The only one he didn't see often was Telaendril, the high elf woman. She traveled often and warned she would only be back at the sanctuary once or twice a week at the most. So far, Azeg-Rael had only seen her the one time when he first met her.
As Azeg-Rael finished off the loaf, Vicente walked in.
"Do you have another contract for me?" Azeg-Rael asked immediately.
Vicente smiled, and nodded.
Chorrol, Fighter's Guild…
3 Hearthfire 3E433
It was strange being back in Chorrol after such a short time. After his work for Azzan, Davion had been promoted to Journeyman, and was told that he should report to the headquarters to speak with the Fighter's Guild head, Vilena Donton.
Modryn had been waiting for him at the gate.
"I heard you might be coming to pay us a visit. Quite some adventures I've heard you've had already," Modryn smirked.
"Adventures?" Davion asked. "More like pest control. I'm hoping you have something a bit more interesting for me. I only signed up because of all the grand times you said we'd have together."
Modryn chuckled. "Go, speak with Vilena. She'll tell you exactly what's in store for us."
As he walked into the Fighter's Guild he saw the same lively crew from the bar all now wearing suits of armor and brandishing weapons of all sorts. Some were training, others maintaining their equipment, and a few were sitting in the corner chatting.
"Settle down," came a woman's voice from the top floor. "I'll be having a meeting in a moment."
Davion could only assume she meant with him, as he was right. As soon as he rounded the last staircase he saw an older woman wearing iron armor sitting at a desk. Davion could tell in her younger days she had been not only powerful, but beautiful as well. Her eyes still had a fiery passion in them, although he could not tell if it burned for matters of the heart or sword. Probably both.
"Greetings. I see you've been keeping yourself busy. This is good. I believe it's time for you to perform some duties for your Guild."
Davion tilted his head. "What do you mean duties, madam?"
"We are a brotherhood. What affects one of us, affects us all," she began. "Fighting, drunkenness, dereliction of duty are not tolerated."
With that, Modryn came up the stairs as well.
"Ah, Modryn, just in time. You have the assignment?" She asked.
"Yes, madam," Modryn bowed. He turned to Davion. "You'll be working with me. I need you to do me a favor."
Davion nodded.
"One of your Fighter's Guild brothers, Maglir, has defaulted on a contract in Skingrad. He's raw, and a bit of a coward. I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything better. But we can't let it slide. It makes us all look bad," Modryn said.
"So I need to find him and bring him back here?" Davion asked.
"First you need to find out why he defaulted, and if he refuses to finish the contract, I need you to complete it for him."
"I understand. Will you be coming with me?"
Modryn shook his head. "I have to assist other guild members, I'm afraid. Don't worry though, this is nothing you can't handle."
Davion wasn't sure exactly where Modryn's continued faith in him came from, but nonetheless he was later that day packing up his belongings and, as soon as he had gotten there, was on his way south to Skingrad.
Skingrad
4 Hearthfire 3E433
Skingrad was an unusual place. The people who lived here all seemed strange in their own right, but none so odd as the Count Skingrad himself. Stories and rumors were heard in all parts of Skingrad that the Count was never seen about in daylight.
It was true, that the Count's wife had fallen tragically ill, and many presumed he simply never left her side, but this did not explain why all business was conducted at night, and by his Courtier whenever possible.
The journey north from Leyawin had been a trying one for Alessia. She had, of course, earned her recommendation for restoring Dagail to sanity, but she began to wonder what cost this Mage's Guild work was taking upon her.
Dagail had left her with a most cryptic warning upon regaining her senses.
"I have seen things in your future," she said. "Some things that will be, and some things that may be. It will be up to you to decide the fate of many. Life and death, both things easily manipulated, and both will be altered by your hand."
And if that weren't enough her most recent recommendation had proved quite daunting. She had been taught a lovely new fireball spell which she had been assured was only for her protection. And it had turned out she had needed to use it quite a bit.
A young Bosmer sat down at the bar next to her.
"I do love the Three Sisters," she said cheerfully, drinking from a tankard of mead. "Always a delightful place to hear the news of the day. Such as why a fresh-faced young girl like you has come all the way to Skingrad."
Alessia would have found this rude if it were not for the woman's upbeat demeanor. It was more like she was inviting her to vocalize her thoughts, or to join a conversation that had been going on inside both of their heads.
"Alessia, Mage's Guild Associate," she said, taking her hand.
"Saryn, Wood Elf Adventurer," The Bosmer smiled. "So go on, tell me what brings you here, and I'll tell you what brings me here."
Alessia felt somewhat lightheaded from the mead and resolved to stop drinking for the time being, lest she say too much, but explained to this perfect stranger what she had been through so far.
"I'm attempting to join the Mage's Guild, of course. But there are rules. Not just anybody can get in, you see. I have to go to every city in the Imperium, save Kvatch, obviously, and receive a letter of Recommendation," Alessia explained.
"I never knew. So how do you earn these recommends?" Saryn asked.
"You know, I don't know if there's a standard method because ever since I've started I've been asked to perform tasks that range from the absolutely trivial to the unbelievably dangerous," and she hiccupped. "Take this last recommendation!"
"What happened?" Saryn asked, taking a sip from her own tankard.
"Well at first I thought it was going to be another boring job of locating something or somebody and I was absolutely right. This guild-mate, Erthor, had been sent off by the chapter head, Adrienne to a cave! A cave of all places! Why study magic in the safe, tested halls of the guild, no, no, let's send him off to Bleak Flats, out in the middle of nowhere.
"Well that's just the start. You see, turns out she had good reason to want him to study there. The fool was practicing restoration and alteration work, trying to learn spells to mend bones and such. But the fool was practicing on cadavers and had stumbled upon passages from a necromancy tome and brought them all to life again!
"So this fool is too frightened to move and I have to clear them all out! Can you believe it, he can't even clean up his own mess! Lucky I had that fireball spell that Adrienne taught me or I would have been a goner."
"My goodness," Saryn sighed sympathetically. "Sounds like you had quite a time."
"You promised me now," Alessia smiled. "Tell me about your adventures."
"I travel from place to place, undertaking quests to earn gold for my meals, when I don't hunt for myself, of course. Mainly I find the adventure itself appealing. But when I arrived in Anvil… well let's just say I thought that Skingrad was an odd place, but Anvil has some interesting folk as well.
"I arrive at the Anvil docks, and after a group of charming men ask me if I work at the Fo'c's'le I'd about had my fill of the town. So as I am about to leave by way of bay, rather than bothering going back through the city, I run across a poor woman named Varulae, complaining about her lost crystal ball."
"Crystal ball?" Alessia asked.
"Wait, it gets better," Saryn smirked. "She had left it on her ship, the Serpent's Wake. She'd hired a crew to get her to Summerset Isle and back in order to retrieve the crystal ball which was an heirloom. Well on the return journey, her crew was murdered, although she was mum as to who killed them all.
"Well the spirits wouldn't let her go back in and tried to attack her so she asked me to go in and retrieve the crystal ball for her! Of course none of my weapons can harm spirits, but I did have a bit of magic at my disposal too. So I go in, clear the lot out and then hip hip hurrah, return the crystal ball to Varulae."
"Did she reward you well?"
"She gave me some enchanted sword, which was nice, but I managed to get a decent bit of gold from the ship too. Found some skooma too, but I didn't bother with the stuff. Kicked that particular habit years ago."
Alessia gave Saryn an incredulous look and Saryn laughed. "Only joking! Anyways I sold that sword to some bloke in Anvil. I've no need for a magic cutlass. My bow and shortsword are all I need… well and apparently magic, but that's aside the point."
A Dunmer woman sat down next to Saryn.
"You should have brought it with you. I might have given you a better price," she said. She then seemed to realize she might be being rude and changed tack. "Cierra. I'm something of an adventurer myself."
"Well then, let's hear it shall we," Saryn smiled, ordering a mead for Cierra who politely declined, drinking from a personal flask instead.
"Well, I am on a pilgrimage, attempting to find artifacts from the Daedric Princes. So far I have received a gift from Azura, Nocturnal, Peryite and Vaermina. And while I was out here, I've uncovered a fifth.
"Mind you, these princes don't just give away their treasures, no. You must earn them. I've been traveling the Colovian Highlands region as I heard rumors of a shrine to Malacath, and I was right."
"Malacath," Alessia nodded impressively. "I've read of him. Dangerous prince isn't he?"
"He's powerful indeed. I figured he'd have me go off slaying trolls or something equally as suicidal. I couldn't have been more wrong. He actually had me go save a group of ogres who were being held as slave-workers for this foolish nobleman.
"The highborn twit refused to let them go and do some honest labor himself, so I simply broke into the slave quarters and freed the lot. He got what was coming to him in the end though. The ogres ended up making him their slave."
"And how did Malacath reward you?" Saryn asked.
"He gave me a hammer that belonged to him: Volendrung. Powerful hammer, but I've no use for the thing as a weapon. I keep it safe along with my other treasures," Cierra said.
"You know," Alessia said. "On my way back from Leyawin I came across a shrine to Sheogorath. Perhaps you might find a treasure there."
Cierra lit up. "Thank you! I shall make my way there first thing in the morning."
The three women continued to drink when a voice called from the back of the pub.
"Hey Alessia! Is that you?"
Alessia recognized the voice of the Redguard man who had traveled with her before.
"Davion!" She smiled. "What brings you out here?"
"Work for the guild. Same for you I trust," Davion chuckled.
"Well it's a different guild, but yes, I suppose," Alessia laughed. She was now entirely too tipsy and once again vowed to stop drinking this very instant.
"Is that your friend?" Saryn asked. "He's rather dashing for an older fellow. Go talk to him."
But there was no need, Davion was sitting down at the bar next to them. "I don't suppose any of you have seen a man named Maglir? I'm looking for him."
"Maglir?" Cierra asked. "Ah a tiny Bosmer gent? I've heard him come here to complain on some nights. You might run into him."
"Maybe you two ought to share a room," Saryn giggled. She then too felt as though she'd been drinking too much and pushed her tankard away from her. "What do they put in the mead here?"
Cheydinhal, Borba's Goods and Stores…
4 Hearthfire 3E433
"Borba, good to see you again," Will smiled. "Shall we get right down to business, or do you want to get a drink?"
"I'm afraid business will have to wait," Borba sighed. "The town watch is bleeding everybody dry here."
Will folded his arms. "What do you mean?"
"It's this new Captain of the Guard!" Borba hissed. "He'll find any reason to fine the people of this town. I was fined three times this week. They claim it was because my store didn't meet inspection standards, but I know it's because I'm not giving him a discount on my goods."
"Does the Count know about this?" Will asked.
"I don't know if he does or not. To be honest I doubt that he cares about the problems of us common folk," Borba sighed.
Borba was a tough Orc lady, and Will had never seen her so frazzled. So far his trading journey was turning into a nightmare. His last contact refused to do business and now Borba was tapped dry. This couldn't stand.
"Look, I'm gonna go see what I can do about this guy. Somebody has to know something," Will said.
"You think you can accomplish it?"
"All I know is what's bad for my business partners is bad for me," Will said. "I'll see if I can go reason with the fool."
Bravil…
4 Hearthfire 3E433
S'krivva was a Khajitt woman who looked rather like R'darra's mother. It was unnerving at first, but her attitude was rather different from that of Armand Cristophe. She was more kind and nurturing where Armand had been more direct and blunt.
She found that thievery was much easier in Bravil as there weren't guards posted at every corner. In fact, there seemed to be surprisingly few guards at all. The Count of Bravil was a drunken wastrel and everybody knew it, and R'darra suspected he kept most of his guards close to him.
So night after night she would sneak into the shops of the local storeowners, pilfer a few valuables and then send them off to the fences before anybody knew what hit them.
She had even been given a unique job of S'krivva's to obtain a missing ring from a friend of hers in Leyawin, Adharji. This had been an interesting mission indeed.
She had arrived in Leyawin and met with Ahdarji. She was a difficult person to talk to, but eventually let slip that an Argonian had stolen the ring from her. The Thieve's Guild frowned upon independent thievery and was therefore surprised to find out that the man who had stolen it was none other than Amusei.
He had been locked up in the dungeon and while she was not happy with having to free the fool, he did tell her that the ring was now in possession of the Countess. The "heirloom" had in fact been the Countess's ring!
But a job was a job as far as R'darra was concerned, and sneaking into palaces was something she had yet to try. Getting into the Great Hall was easy, as anybody was allowed there regardless the hour. But sneaking into the Lord's Manor would be more difficult.
R'darra had stolen a scroll of invisibility from the Mage's Guild in Bravil, which proved useful in sneaking through the hallways. In fact she managed to get just outside the bedroom of the Count before she ran into a guard.
Waiting tensely, praying that he would move, she fumbled with her lockpicks. Finally the guard moved away from the door and out into the hall. The rest was clockwork. Stealing a ring from a jewel box was no challenge even if the Count and Countess were inches from you.
The ring was returned, Amusei free and all was well. So far, at any rate.
"This work is getting almost too easy," R'darra sighed, as she sat with S'krivva in the Lonely Suitor Lodge, a well known establishment with Thieve's Guild background..
"Things are getting more serious back at the Imperial City," S'krivva said. "Maybe if you keep up the diligent work I'll send you back to help. That should prove interesting."
"I'd just like to see that Lex fellow taken care of for good," R'darra said.
S'krivva smiled.
Imperial City, Elven Gardens District…
4 Hearthfire 3E433
Despite his initial hesitations, Borin gro-Kromlock was becoming quite the arena combatant. In his first week he had already slain enough of the Yellow Team combatants to rise to the rank of Brawler. Of course the Blademaster was in no hurry to compliment Borin. In fact he kept reminding him that Brawler was barely any better than Pit Dog and that he'd seen plenty of Brawlers get cocky and just die on him.
This was a cheery thought in a way. He figured the Blademaster wouldn't be riding his ass as much if he didn't have a little hope in him.
In between training for the following matches and resting from his occasional injuries, he found time to explore the Imperial City. While it was a bit gloomier since the death of the Emperor, it was nonetheless still an amazing city.
The city was divided into six sections, arranged in a circle around the White Gold Tower, which was more commonly referred to as the Imperial Palace. Two small island-sections broke off the main city, with the dungeon to the northeast and Arcane University to the southeast.
Today Borin was having a drink in the a pub in the Elven Gardens District. It was a quiet little shack called Luther Broad's Boarding House. It was almost completely empty except for a couple of odd patrons. There was a man in the corner who was intently watching the two men sitting at the bar. One of the men was a Redguard who looked like a member of the Blades, except he was wearing civilian clothing, and the other an Imperial who was definitely a Blade as he was decorated in the armor of the group.
Out of nowhere, or so it seemed to Borin, the Redguard got up and went down into the cellar. The man in the corner followed him and then a few seconds after they were both downstairs the Blade followed suit. The bartender looked nervous. Borin stood up, nodded at him and went downstairs.
It was over in seconds. As soon as Borin entered the cellar he saw the man who'd been sitting in the corner attack the Redguard. The Blade lunged at him with his shortsword but was thrown back as the man cast a powerful spell of lightning. The Redguard threw a punch, knocking him back. He landed in Borin's arms.
"Take it easy buddy," Borin warned the mage. But he elbowed him in the stomach, which hurt even through his thick arena armor. The Blade was back up however and stabbed the man through the heart.
"Are you alright Baurus?" The Blade asked.
"Just fine Ignin," Baurus nodded. "Good to see you again."
They both turned to the Borin.
"Uh, Borin gro-Kromlock. Arena. Looked like trouble so I decided to come and help."
"Listen, for the sake of the Empire, you must forget what you have seen here, understood?" Baurus demanded.
"Oh sure. It's an everyday occurrence a man attacks two Blades in the middle of a bar a mere week after the murder of our Emperor," Borin said, folding his arms. "Let me help."
Ignin shrugged, but Baurus didn't look convinced. "Well…"
"Come on Baurus, I for one would be relieved to have the extra help," Ignin said.
"You sure you can handle it?" Baurus asked.
"Look at what I do for a living," Borin laughed.
"Very well. Listen. I've tracked the assassins of the Emperor to a Daedric cult known as the Mythic Dawn. They worship the Daedric Prince Mehrunes Dagon. Apparently they've caught on to me," Baurus handed a small book that the assassin was carrying to Ignin.
"Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes, Volume 1?" Ignin asked.
"They all carry books like this. What news of the Emperor's heir?"
"We've found him, he's safe at Cloud Ruler Temple," Ignin nodded.
"Thank Talos!" Baurus smiled.
"But the enemy has the Amulet of Kings," Ignin sighed.
"Hmm…" Baurus sighed. "We'll need information. There's an expert on Daedric Cults at the Arcane University. Her name's Tar-Meena. Go track her down and see what she can tell you."
"And what will I be doing?" Borin asked.
"Stay close to him. Never know when he might be attacked," Baurus said.
Ignin was feeling rather tired of being warned of attack. It was as though up to this point his journey had been a vacation.