"Family heirloom. My ma and pa wanted me to follow in their footsteps. Be a great warrior, ya know?" Tekla sighed wistfully as they approached Winterhold. "Of course, magic was my passion… But sometimes, nothing beats the feeling of skulls cracking under a heavy hammer!"

"Um…"

"Er… The baddies' skulls, I mean. Bandits and undead."

Quill-Weave hummed in approval. "So when we get to Winterhold, first things first we need to take care of… Jobasha?"

Jobasha peeped up from behind the slumped figure of their Altmer assailant. "No signs of this one's identity. He is a wizard, and he is an Altmer. Not much deviation, to Jobasha's understanding."

"I'll ask the College, but for the time being, we're gonna have to leave him with the guards… Speak of the Daedra."

Quill-Weave and Jobasha peeked over Tekla's shoulders to see they were approaching a great walled city. Somber-colored, it was a gray monolith against the dead white of the landscape. From the weathered stone walls to the vague figures of the walking guards above, one thing managed to stand out; The pale-blue banners of a three-spiraled castle.

"It's… Interesting?"

"You don't have to lie, Quill. It's pretty shitty." Tekla sighed. "It's in the ass-end of Skyrim… Though I guess that's why we like it, with all the quiet."

"It is well protected, if not pretty to look at." Jobasha mused. "Why, Jobasha is sure only an earthquake could do damage to Winterhold, yes? Many guards and walls of stone indeed."

"Pfft. Like that would happen." Tekla scoffed, smiling.

Tekla stopped the cart at the behest of two guards. Unlike their previous encounter, they only took one look at the mage before letting her through. Quill-Weave figured they would be quite familiar with Tekla if she went out for ingredients often.

The Altmer was dropped off with three guards, just outside of the barracks.

"He is most fond of fire spells…" Jobasha purred.

"Yes." Tekla said. "Bind his hands. When he wakes, send a message to the College. Tell them to look for the Khajiit and Argonian."

The town itself was sturdy, if not dull and bleak. Weathered cottages with firelight dancing on the hazy windows. The people who worked outside paid no mind to the wagon as it stopped next to an arch that gave way to a grand stone bridge.

Quill-Weave and Jobasha could see it now. A large stone citadel with several pillars of arcane light piercing the gray clouds.

The College of Winterhold.


"It's a beautiful institution. Learning unfettered by politics is so rare these days, honestly..." Tekla said as she walked with the two beastfolk. They blended in well with their robes, though they were hard-pressed to find any other tailed people there. Hopefully they wouldn't stick out.

The College itself was interesting. The courtyard had a great well of some magic looking thing with the greatest pillar of magic light, shining on the statue of a mage. It gave of the grand illusion of the mage statue harnessing the power of Aetherius. Many students sat in the courtyard, bundled in scarves and mittens as their books floated in the air without their cozy hands having to be in the cold air. Many were studying the alchemical plants that grew in the courtyard.

The two noticed something. There was a conglomeration of elves leaving the College. There was about one or two Altmer, but the majority were Dunmer, dressed in furs and carrying bags and walking by summoned servants to hold their belongings. The tension in the courtyard was obviously high for the moment that they walked out.

"Lots of Dunmer here." Tekla said, her voice more somber. "We're right by Morrowind… Though after the Crisis, lots of Dunmer students started packing up."

"Why?"

"Eh… The locals don't like us too much." Tekla sighed. "Magic was never Skyrim's strong suit when it came to acceptance. We only got worse reputation after the crisis, and the elves get the most flak."

Quill-Weave looked back, as she walked, at the procession of elves. They all seemed dejected, scared to walk out in front of the locals of Winterhold. Jobasha didn't look, but he felt a twinge of sympathy in his heart.

Inside, before they opened the grate with the eye into what they assumed to be a training hall, seeing apprentices cast spells at motes of light, Tekla quickly turned them to the side door.

"H-hey!"

"Sorry Jobasha. We need to get through this as quick as possible. Visitors aren't exactly common here."

"Well," Quill-Weave said. "Our… employer, says that the head of the Arcaneum is expecting visitors."

"Head of the Arcaneum? Hah, he's a friendly guy. He'll expect anyone - with a fresh pie if the College put an oven in the Arcaneum."

The Arcaneum itself was an impressive collection of tomes. Many books were floating aimlessly in the air, organizing themselves into their shelves. All sorts of anthologies were found here, and not all were about magic. As Quill-Weave and Jobasha walked through the library, they caught glimpses of the words in some books – stories of crime, romance, adventure, and passion.

"So… Here you are." Tekla said, beaming. "Greatest collection of written work in Skyrim, right before your eyes!"

"It's… Astounding." Quill-Weave whispered, wide-eyed.

"I wonder how much these books all cost…" Jobasha mused, caressing a slowly-drifting book of soft velvet as it drifted by.

Tekla patted the two on the shoulders. "Well, you two do what you need to. I'm gonna check up on our Elf friend – see if he's up and ready to talk."

"Be careful. Jobasha is worried he would still be dangerous, even in binds."

"Don't worry. If the guards are smart, they'll take the precautions." As Tekla turned and walked out, she smiled. "The guards in this city know how to deal with mages. Trust me – I know from experience."

As she left, Quill-Weave's eyes darted at a bunch of other floating books, until she was snapped out of it by Jobasha.

"Crush?"

"What?"

"Crush! You know…" Jobasha made a heart gesture with his paws. "You and the Nord…?"

"O-Oh, no! I…" Quill-Weave coughed, uncomfortable at the sudden gaze of one apprentice on her. "I'm… She's pretty, yes, but I have someone else in mind."

Jobasha darted in front of her face. "What?! Why did I not know of this?!"

"Pfft…" Happy the scales tipped in her favor, Quill-Weave smiled and walked towards the counter of the Arcaneum. "You never asked. Now come on, Jobasha, we have a job to do."

Pouting, the now-curious Jobasha slunk next to Quill-Weave at the counter. Quill-Weave looked over it to see a Half-Orc in a robe, reading a tome through inch-thick glasses.

"…Er…" Quill-Weave coughed. "Hello?"

The Half-Orc looked up. He was old, wrinkles in places that indicated that this was an Orc who liked to laugh.

"Ah! New students? I haven't seen your faces before!" He boomed. "I'm Garok gro-Shub, and as students here, I'm quite afraid you'll be seeing quite a lot of me! Now, don't tell me… Alteration? A new student of Dubois?"

He motioned to Jobasha, who held up his hands. "Not quite. You see—"

"Destruction? I imagine that the fur would be a bit too flammable, but you'd be surprised what some fire resistance enchantments can—"

"We have need of—"

"Restoration, then! Merathi recommends a certain essay writ—"

"Mr. gro-Shub!" Quill-Weave stammered, waving her hands in a motion to keep their voices quiet. "We're not students. We're… Looking for a book in particular?"

"Yes?"

"It's about…" Quill-Weave leaned in, ensuring no-one heard them. "…Barenziah in Daggerfall."

There was a silence. The smile softened on the Orc's face, no longer welcoming but a knowing smile. He closed his book. "I see we share a mutual friend."

"Friend is not the word I would use for the perverted one, yes?"

"He's more of our… master?"

"That sounds dirty…" Jobasha said, keeping a paw over his snickering mouth.

"Well, our mutual employer, perhaps?" The orc said, waving his hands apart and grinning widely. He then leaned in closer to the two, quieting his booming voice to nothing but a whisper. "I heard the Omenwede Jr. was attacked?"

"Er… yes." Quill-Weave coughed. "We haven't any transport to Vvardenfell."

"Aha, no matter at all! I'd be happy to purchase some transport back!"

Jobasha rested his arms on the counter. "Such a kind orc, this one is, yes? However, these two are in very much of a hurry. Jobasha hates to cut the pleasantries short, but…"

With a wordless smile, Garok gro-Shub reached into the drawers of his desk. He pulled out a nondescript, book-shaped package wrapped in a brown wax paper and placed it on the desk, sliding it towards the two.

Quill-Weave slowly took the package. Before she even started unwrapping it, the Orc raised a hand.

"Uh, uh! It's in there, trust me." He smiled. "Crassius prefers his packages mint-packed."

As Quill-Weave nodded in silent agreement, tucking it away in her coat, Jobasha sat back on the desk, turning his neck to face the Orc. "So… how long have you been dealing with the perverted one?"

"He donates often to the Arcaneum." gro-Shub chuckled. "He's an expert on subjects, despite what his usual works say. He understands humanoid biology almost as well as our own Professor Merathi, and I can count the number of spells he knows on one hand."

"So…" Quill-Weave looked around the Arcaneum. "We have what we came for… Mr. gro-Shub, it'd be fine if we stay a while, right?"

Jobasha simply mouthed the words "Author," while covertly pointing his thumb claw at Jobasa.

"Why, of course!" He stood up. "Regardless of the College's selectionism, the Arcaneum is the domain of the gro-Shub family! All are free to the knowledge in this hall!"


The College of Winterhold was about as foul as she imagined Alessia didn't care much for her current disguise – a fur-llined robe about as fashionable as a dead rat on her head.

Right now, she was climbing up the stairs with J'Skarr.

"You will be fine without me, Alessia?"

"I will be quite fine, J'Skarr." She curtly replied. "The… Arcaneum? It's the next door up, I believe."

As they stopped at the next door upwards, J'Skarr and Alessia both took a deep breath.

"I—"

Before J'skarr got a word out, Alessia was already through the door.

She walked into the Arcaneum to see foul magic at powerful work. Books floating in the air, no doubt filled with foul and blasphemous scribblings. A few wizards pored through these tomes as if their life depended on it. She opted to ignore these people as she walked up to the counter, facing the Orc that seemed to work behind it.

Funny. She didn't meet much reading orcs.

"Um… Excuse me?"

The Orc looked up at her, baring his ugly teeth with a foul grin. "Ah! What can I help you with?"

"Barenziah in Daggerfall." Alessia said. "Make it snappy."

"…Um… Crassius' hired help?"

"…Yyyyyes?"

Confusedly, the Orc pointed to two tailed, robed figures. The Argonian had about 5 books in her arms, while the Khajiit looked as if he wanted to be anywhere but here – a notion that Alessia shared very well.

She took a deep breath and walked up to the two.

"Um… Excuse me?"

"Hmm?" The Argonian turned to Alessia. "Oh, sorry! Did you need one of these books? I never knew there was so much… well… science, behind magic."

"Er… Right." Alessia coughed. "According to that Orc—"

"gro-Shub." The Khajiit interjected.

"Y-yes, him. You two have a package?" Alessia extended her hand. "I politely request it."

Quill-Weave and Jobasha were at a loss. This random woman had just demanded their source of payment out of nowhere. Quill-Weave squinted, getting a better look at the woman's face in the moving light of the Arcaneum.

"You seem very familiar…" Quill-Weave thought for only a moment before she dropped all the books in her hand. "Y-You!"

Standing up, Alessia and Quill-Weave pointed at each other.

"That wretched author!"

"That wretched author!"

They both yelled simultaneously, attracting the attention of nearly all the apprentices in the Arcaneum.

"What in the Divines' holy names are you doing in Winterhold?!" Alessia demanded.

"I could ask the same of you, Ottus!"

"E-er… Jobasha requires context?"

Quill-Weave turned to Jobasha. "This woman is a known bigot who taints Cyrodiil with her books!"

Alessia simply snorted. "Bigot? How dare you?! Those bold words coming from the lips of a degenerate like you!"

"H-hey…" Garok gro-Shub had approached, holding his hands in a peaceful manner. "There's no need for hostility in the Arcaneum…"

Alessia and Quill-Weave both took deep breaths, taking seats opposite of each other. Jobasha stayed at Quill-Weave's side, leaning on her armchair, while the two authors crossed their arms.

"Now, tell me if I'm right." Alessia casually brushed aside a book floating near her face. "You're on a job from one of the heathen Houses of Morrowind. You were sent here to find a pornographic transcript on behalf of a smut writer in exchange for gold. Is this correct?"

"Y-yes!" Quill-Weave stammered. "Well… Half of that. We only knew of half of that… Divines damn you, Curio, you never gave us the full story…"

"How does this one know more than these two?"

"What depths you people will go to…Now unlike this… Crassius Curio, my employer will ensure that your package is dealt in a way pleasing to the people of Tamriel."

"Pleasing to the people of Tamriel…?"

"If it's a pornography, I think Tamriel would enjoy it, yes?" Jobasha said.

"The good people of Tamriel." Alessia sighed. "Do you know what is in that package, Quill-Weave?"

"…A smut book, apparently. I figured it was "The Real Barenziah," given the code we were given."

"Specifically, a transcript of The Real Barenziah that wasn't censored." Alessia grimaced. "It describes an… intercourse-heavy interaction with a Khajiit – of all things – and therefore my employer has deemed it unholy and a work that needs to be destroyed before one such as Crassius Curio can lay his grubby little hands on it."

There was a palpable silence in the Arcaneum, followed by the laughter of everyone in the Arcaneum.

Alessia, bothered by the howling laughter, banged her fist on the nearby table. "And just what is so bloody funny?!"

"All this… whew…" Quill-Weave took a moment to let her breath-heavy laughter die down. "All this trouble to track this book down… Because you don't like smut?"

"It is MORE THAN THAT!"Alessia suddenly stood up, silence uncomfortably filling the room, grabbing Quill-Weave by the hood of her robe. "This runs far, far deeper than your reptilian mind can comprehend! This is one of many victories for the Order of Just Oration, and for as little consequence you believe a simplE transcript of a smut-ridden book can be, this is one of many steps that we must burn for the good of Tamriel! Now GIVE ME THE PACKAGE, LIZARD!"

Breathing heavily, Alessia seemed to notice just now she was holding Quill-Weave against the bookshelf. The rage in her eyes vanishing, she also took notice of the ice-cold hammer by her temple.

"Let. Her. Go." Was Tekla's order. "Quill. You alright?"

Quill-Weave, fear remaining in her system, could only nod.

"Tekla?!" Jobasha stammered. "Is the Altmer safely kept?"

"He's gone!" She growled at Alessia. "And I think it has something to do with you."

"…And who might you be?"

"A friend of said "Lizard." You'd better let go of her, yeah? And tell me where that Elf is!"

"Hmph." Alessia sharply released her hand from Quill-Weave's robe, taking a step back. She took a quick glance about the room. All the apprentices had their eyes on them, except for one. A hooded figure currently reading a purple book with the insignia of the Conjuration School. Alessia had also noticed a shadow darting through the rafters.

Perfect.

"I… I believe you should be leaving now." The Orc stammered, a notion aided by Tekla's hammer pressed closer to her.

"And I, believe me, have every intent to leave this place so devoid of the virtues of the Divines… Unfortunately, I do require that transcript, so… Verela? Sarrabi?"

In an instant, the hooded apprentice had suddenly appeared in between Alessia and Tekla. With a snap of her fingers, Tekla was surrounded by the apparitions of 5 floating purple daedric swords, each one pointed to a vital part of her body.

Struggling to speak with the bound sword at her throat, Tekla dropped her hammer in a motion of surrender.

"Good." Was all the figure had whispered.

"Verela, we need to go. Does the cat have it yet?"

"Of course she does!" Came the yell from behind them. A Khajiit, dressed in brown thief's wear and a cape, held a wax-paper package in her claws.

"The book!" Quill-Weave yelled, patting down her robe. "How did you—"

"Listen here and listen well!" The Khajiit bellowed, stepping on a table to give her a sense of grandeur. "The Order of Just Oration is here! You mages better watch out, or else we'll come and get you all!"

"Quite right!" Alessia said proudly, taking the package and putting it in her winter robe. "Sarrabi? Verela? Any parting words?"

"Just two…" The figure, Verela, said.

Snapping her fingers, the Altmer who had attacked Quill-Weave and Jobasha had now burst into the Arcaneum in a puff of smoke, much to Tekla, Quill-Weave, and Jobasha's surprise. His chains were broken and his cloth gag was now around his neck. He smiled wickedly as a large fireball in his hands compressed into a small sphere of light.

A delayed fireball. It would set off in a few seconds.

"Find cover."


Having teleported outside, the four landed in the snowy mountains outside of Winterhold, just close enough to see the explosion in the Arcaneum burst through the windows.

Cackling, the Altmer brushed his long, frazzled hair away from his mad eyes. "I've wanted to hit those College bastards for years!"

"Yes, well…" Alessia Ottus dusted herself off, looking at the package. "I never expected to run into that Argonian again… and here of all places…"

"Ottus!" The gray-furred Khajiit put her arms around her, much to her dismay. "Congratulations! You are now a member of the Order of Just Oration!"

"Yes." The hooded figure took her hood off, revealing a stone-faced Dunmer woman with short, red hair. "Celebration."

"But first." The Altmer swooped in and took the book from Alessia's hands, much to her displeasure. "We take this to Paralian…"

"I don't suppose you can teleport us all the way to the Imperial City?" Alessia said to the Dunmer.

"Yes."

"Wh-what?! Why didn't you in the first bloody place?"

"Test." She pointed to Alessia. "Your test. You passed. Test over."

"I figured you weren't one for magic?" The Khajiit teased.

"Well… Anything to get out of this cold as soon as bloody possible…"

Alessia looked back at the college, part of it on fire. She gave a small sigh of relief. People were hurt, yes, but all for the greater good. Those wicked tomes would teach their lies no longer.

She gave a crooked smile as the Dunmer teleported them to the Imperial City.