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The four of us sat in one of the cramped rooms of the Silver Blood Inn. "Something reeks in the state of Markarth," I quoted, "The woman was sent by General Tullius to buy Cidhna Mine, owned by a Nord family, but a Forsworn assassin targets her."
Iona was not happy with my decision to investigate, but kept to her more formal role as my housecarl. My older acquaintances however, did not hesitate to point out my dubious judgment.
"Ieago," Lydia asked, "Why did you get involved in this? If this is somehow connected with the Silver-Blood family, this cannot end well for you. They're a powerful family here in the Reach," Aela nodded in agreement with the raven-haired woman.
I was touched by their concern and quietly agreed with them, but found myself committed all the same. "I appreciate your concern Lydia, but this is the right thing to do. Someone here has enough pull to carry out murders unchecked for years at a time. This person has enough sway to drive teenagers to suicide missions for a cause dead before they were born. I can't just let it go when a man is desperate enough to beg a stranger for help."
"What's our next move then?" Aela asked, arms crossed as she leaned against the door frame.
"I'm going to find out where the attacker lived and see if I can't discover anything there," I replied. "I would like the rest of you to return to Jorrvaskr."
"Are you sure that is wise my thane?" Iona asked.
"Ieago, this city is dangerous. There's a war going on in the streets. You can smell the hate," Aela agreed.
"I stand with the others, Ieago. We should not leave you," Lydia said.
I held my hands up to forestall any further objections, "Your concerns are noted and appreciated, but I've made my decision. I think I will make more progress on my own than a party of four could. What's more Aela, I've neglected the Companions for too long. My becoming Harbinger is going to make us enemies. Most of them would be willing to cut a path of blood through Whiterun to get to us. I would like to get the Companions out scouting for a secondary headquarters. Someplace we can defend without putting Whiterun at risk."
"We will follow your advice Harbinger, but you are making a serious mistake," Aela said, shifting to stand in the door with crossed arms to block me.
"No pack of savages will keep me from returning to you Aela," I said, stealing a kiss and stepping past her.
I encountered a handful of those savages as I stepped out into the clear Skyrim night. "Back off Imperial. Outsiders should not interfere in Markarth's business," one of the town guards in the ring of them surrounding me said.
"I feel I should learn as much as possible about the man I got killed," I replied, taking the 'coy' route.
The guard shook his head, "This is your only warning Imperial. Stop investigating or you'll end up like Weylin did this morning."
"Now I know his name. Thank you," I replied.
Inside the festering shithole that is Markarth's Warrens, I found Weylin's room. The damp stone chamber was bigger than I had expected, but contained no more than what I had thought it would: A pile of trash, a table, a stool, and a bedroll on the filthy ground. Not even a lantern illuminated the squalor. In the light of a common spell, I read the only thing of interest in the whole chamber: a note from Weylin's handler.
"Weylin,
You've been chosen to strike fear in the hearts of the Nords. Go to the market tomorrow. You will know what to do.
-N"
Still pondering the note, I stepped out into the streets to be confronted by a colossal Breton.
"I've been sent to teach you a lesson," he said, sending his fist at my face.
It met the hilt of Revenant instead. Fingers broke with a wet snap and he reeled back in surprise and pain. The pommel cap of the still unlit saber smashed into his temple. The follow-up was a kick to the groin and another bash to the back of his skull as he doubled forward. At last I lit the blade, the Breton's tanned skin glossed black in the green light.
"Who sent you?" I growled.
"Fuck you!" he spat.
"Fus!" I shouted, knocking him the rest of the way to the ground. I stepped on his elbow and swept the blade's tip on the ground near my foot, just close enough for him to feel the heat of the blade on his bare arm. "Talk or you get to have other people feed you for the rest of your days."
"Okay! Okay! I was hired by Thonar Silver-Blood. This isn't worth the money!"
"Get out of here," I commanded as I walked away.
I strode through the Treasury House and directly into Thonar Silver-Blood's private chambers. A terrified receptionist followed me up to the door and not an inch beyond. The eldest son of the Silver-Bloods in Markarth was in the middle of an argument with his driven bitch of a wife. They turned to scowl back at me as I took a seat at their table.
"My dear vagrant," Thonar's wife mocked. "We own everything in this city, even the jail."
"The important people need to talk," I bit out before turning to face Thonar and shoving a finger in his face. Revenant was in my hand again, ready for violence, "You sent that thug after me Thonar. Here's how this will work: Tell me who your contact among the Forsworn is and you get to have children."
The look on Thonar's face was one of icy rage. Any angrier and he would have bit off the finger I had shoved in his face, "You picked the wrong family to fu-" he began to be interrupted by one of the housekeepers.
"The Reach for the Forsworn!" the elderly woman screeched while sending blast after blast of lightning from her hands into Thonar's wife.
Revenant's blade leapt to life almost on its own as I closed with the old woman and cut her in half at the waist, but it was too late for Thonar's wife. "They're getting out of control," I said to him.
Thonar was shaking violently as he looked down at his wife's remains, "I send my hit list to Nepos the Nose. He takes care of the rest. Now get out of my house."
I was admitted into the antechamber of Nepos' house by a middle-aged maid. Her inclination had been to turn me away, but a kind old voice permitted me to come in. I did so and an old man prompted me to sit down with him by the fireplace in the corner of his spacious living room. Nepos the Nose was bent almost in half by age and care. His spotted face was kind, almost fatherly behind his colossal namesake. Two cloudy but shrewd eyes appraised me as I sat next to him by the fireplace.
"Ah, yes. You've proven to be a real bloodhound. Well, you've sniffed me out." Nepos said. He looked down to his knees, his spindly hands gripping them with faded strength, "I've been playing this game for almost 20 years." He confessed, "Sending the young to their deaths. All in the name of the Forsworn. And I'm tired. So tired."
"So stop this insanity," I suggested. I felt no sympathy for the reluctant terrorist I was sitting next to.
"Madanach, my king commands me to do this, so I must," he replied.
"You seem pretty willing to confess all this," I remarked. Noting all the while that the maid and two other men were hovering in the room nearby.
Nepos looked up at me again, a wan smile played across his paternal face, "And what makes you think you're getting out of here?" He chuckled. "The girl at the door is a Forsworn agent masquerading as a maid. You aren't the first one to have gotten this far. You won't be the last. I'm sorry, you're not leaving here alive."
"No one has to die today!" I cried even as I used my telekinesis spell to rip Nepos' chair out from under him and send it into the face of the nearest of the Forsworn killers. My grip on Revenant was reversed and the blade stabbed down, pinning the helpless old man to the cold stone floor. I called a ward from my left had just in time to intercept the bolts of electricity cast by the maid. Nepos' presence had kept them in check, and now his death sent them into fury.
What followed was not a fight, it was a slaughter. The three bodyguards weren't warriors. They were fools; bound to the life of an evil old man by misguided love. One of the men threw himself at me in the hope of weighing me down for the others. His feet barely left the ground before I cut his unarmored stomach open, leaving him mewing in agony next to Nepos' body. I sidestepped the next man and stabbed back, he fell face down with one clean hole half way up his spine. "The Reach for the Forsworn!" The Breton witch screeched as more lighting shot from her fingers. The white sparks sent agony through my body, but we were close and momentum was on my side. I had corrected my grip and the green blade stabbed deep into the heart of the Forsworn agent. The sparks stopped as she looked into my eyes in shock. Her body crumbled to the floor without another sound. I turned to check on the man I had cut open in the melee, but he was lifeless in a pool of his own blood.
I left Nepos' house seconds later, locking the door and breaking off the key behind me. I went directly to the Talos shrine. That man needed to know what I discovered tonight and I needed to pray for forgiveness.
Eight guards waited for me in the shrine. The poor man's body slumped on the floor at Talos' feet like an offering. His chest and stomach were weeping blood from many cuts. "You were warned outsider," one of them said. "Now Thonar needs you in the mines to keep you quiet and we have a trail of bodies to clean up. Now are you going to come along quietly or are we going to have to add your dead ass to our to-do list?" Weighing my options for a second, I dropped my magicka saber and my elven dagger. I knelt and assumed the position I had forced so many people into when I was a guard and ranger in Cyrodiil. The guards' leader nodded his approval, "Wise choice outsider. Say hello to King Madanach for us while you're down there."
I couldn't have hoped for better luck. There was still a chance that the young man's sacrifice would not be in vain. To this day I'm ashamed that I never learned his name. Without him, the violence in the Reach might have gone on for generations instead of years.