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Posted April 12, 2014
SUMMARY:On Justin's suggestion, a plan is hatched that would bring about the end of Voldemort; Spartacus and Crixus both get an unexpected makeover thanks to Tommy's nieces; and the Thieves Guild ends up dealing with a terrible betrayal from within...
WARNING: Major spoilers for Skyrim's Thieves Guild main quest.
35: BAD FOR BUSINESS
23 Hearthfire, 4E201
Following the funeral, the circle had once again retreated back to the flat, choosing to take it easy for a few more days. Harry had voiced the idea of attending a movie or three, but as fate would have it, the Fox was presently occupied with some sort of convention, and would be for the next three days. Tommy had suggested borrowing another theatre, but Harry had nixed it. The Fox was special, for several reasons. And seeing a movie in the Virtual Projection Room was not the same either.
So it was, that morning, Brandon finally pushed everyone to return to a routine. They conducted morning exercises, finishing with mental exercises. Then, the group split up. Miraak disappeared into his room (since the Virtual Projection Room was occupied), while Mazhe and Harry took over the dining room for morning classes with Justin. Tommy, Brandon, Eric, Dardanos, and Crixus, meanwhile, vanished into the Virtual Projection Room for training.
As lunch finished, however, the routine was again interrupted, as Brynjolf entered the flat.
"Mercer thinks he's uncovered who is responsible for the sale of Goldenglow, and the interference at Honningbrew Meadery," he said.
"Who?"
"An Argonian named Gulum-Ei. He's our inside contact at the East Empire Company in Solitude. Mercer wants you to head out there and have a word with him, find out what he knows."
"Can I expect trouble from him?" asked Mazhe, before taking a swig of his mug of mead.
"Trouble?"
Brynjolf let out a chuckle.
"He's one of the most stubborn lizards I've ever met! You have your work cut out for you."
"How do we get him to open up then?" asked Harry.
"You're going to have to buy him off; it's the only way to get his attention. If that fails, follow him and see what he's up to. If I know Gulum-Ei, he's in way over his head and you'll be able to use it as leverage."
Harry let out a snort. "Gods... he's gonna owe the guild big time."
"Aye, he does indeed... and with his fingers in the East Empire Company's pie, we'll make good use of that debt."
Brynjolf flicked his eyes back to Mazhe.
"If I'm not being clear enough, that means we don't want him killed. For now, just keep on his tail and he's bound to step into something he can't scrape off his boot."
"Uh, actually..." Justin spoke up, "Mazhe, you okay with flying solo? I need to bounce an idea off Harry. It's to do with Voldemort."
"Sure. It's a guild contact, nothing I can't handle," said Mazhe, turning back to Brynjolf. "Where would I find him?"
"He fancies spending time at the Winking Skeever."
"Ah. I think I've seen him before," Mazhe remembered. "That makes it a little easier."
"Aye. Good luck. Come back into the cistern and speak to Mercer when you return." With that, Brynjolf left the way he came.
"Anything just a hair out of place, ring me at once," said Harry.
"Count on it. Now... let's see. I'm sure I've got the Winking Skeever marked in the teleport directory," said Mazhe, as he flipped through the growing index of places he now had bookmarked on his mobile.
"Here. I have it," Brandon remembered, opening his. It was nothing for them to share locations—as simple as sending a text message.
"Great. All right, wish me luck," said Mazhe. He then embraced Harry, and they shared a kiss, before he activated the teleport button, and vanished.
"Guess that means lunch is over," said Eric, "We're returning to the VPR then."
"Brandon, actually, I need you to stay," said Justin, "It's to do with an idea I have. Harry, I want you to hear me out completely before you ask questions or voice opposition."
"Oh. Well, all right." Harry looked at Justin strangely.
"You'll probably think this idea's completely nuts, but... that's the beauty of it. Voldemort will never see it coming. But the end game is getting him an audience with Hermaeus Mora and one of those black books... your end game, am I right?"
"Yeah. Absolutely."
"Then this is what I have in mind..."
By the latter part of the afternoon, Harry found himself having tea with the Queen, as the plan was repeated. Without her support, the plan would never leave the drawing board, and all were in agreement on that. If the plan were to have any chance of working, it would require full-on support of the government.
"I have to say, Justin, this plot of yours is incredibly risky. Perhaps bordering on crazy. You're okay with the idea, Harry?" the Queen asked, idly stirring her tea.
"His plan is crazy. And that's why I think it'll work. But as he also says, we will need the help of the government on this. Both in the execution of the plan, and clearing the air in the matter of my affairs once Tom Riddle is gone to grass and the dust settles. I guess that's the one concern, as small as it may be. This course of action will make me a pariah at minimum.
"Granted, at the end of the day I really don't give a rat's ass what the Wizarding world thinks of me—I don't really have a life here. I would see myself parted from the destiny I was saddled with. Justin put it best: Voldemort won't see it coming."
"Your thoughts, Lieutenant Commander?"
"It's as sound a plan as any, your grace. If we can utilize the rest of the unit, and access the DOI's resources, it's more than do-able."
"How soon would you want to put this in motion?"
"Frostfall begins in a week. Is that sufficient time?" Harry asked.
"Easily done," said Brandon, "We have a rough plan, enough to get things rolling. We can fine-tune things as we go. Something you do need to think about, Harry, are the people you do care about in Wizarding England."
"It's something I will have to think about, but I agree. There will come a time that I will see my friends removed from harm's way. When that time comes, I will need the Commonwealth's assistance."
"Naturally. We'll see it done. The next question, then. How involved do you want to be?" asked the Queen.
"Very little in the beginning. I think there'll come a time my direct involvement will become a necessity. But not now."
"I guess the one other matter, is about international affairs," said Justin, "Knowing the way magical England treated Sirius Black when he escaped from Azkaban. The non-magical American authorities were on the lookout for him, just as were their English counterparts. So we'd have to be careful."
"Why might that be—oh, yes," said the Queen, smiling briefly, "It seems you've become attached to our facility in San Francisco."
"Perhaps a little," Harry agreed. "I think we're more than capable of hiding from the mundane authorities. Though if all goes as planned, the matter should be well behind us."
"We'll keep an eye on things as far as the mundane authorities go," said Brandon. "If it's truly dangerous, we'll avoid the mundane world altogether."
"So we have a working plan, then," said Justin.
"We offer all the resources available to Us. May it bring the end of the Dark Lord, for good this time," the Queen proclaimed.
"Thank you, your majesty," said Harry.
His mobile began to vibrate. He pulled it out.
"Mazhe?"
"Harry. I'm back at the cistern. Mercer's needing me to go with him to a tomb north of Windhelm. Remember that place we could never get into?"
"Snow Veil Sanctum," Harry remembered.
"Yeah. We're chasing after a former guild member. She murdered the previous guild master, and now she might be after Mercer."
"I'll be right—"
"Harry. Mercer's with me. We'll be fine. But I'll call you if we run into trouble."
"Please be careful. Call me at the first sign of trouble."
"Count on it." Hearing the 'click' on the other end, Harry closed his phone.
"Something happened?" Justin asked.
"No. Mazhe's going with Mercer Frey to deal with a rogue guild member. Nothing he can't handle."
"Years ago, you would have bolted after him anyway," said the Queen, looking amused.
"I had not the training I now have, your majesty. I have since learned to trust my training, and to trust my circle. They know what they are doing. For an enemy to get ahead of Mazhe? I wish the fool good luck on his fateful errand."
Mazhe had not returned by the time Harry returned to the apartment. The afternoon had been spent discussing a few more details surrounding the plan, dubbed 'Operation Smokescreen'. That had spread to a private dinner.
A quick call, however, confirmed that he and Mercer were still combing through the ruin, and it was likely they would be some time yet. Knowing his partner was still well, and in good hands, Harry sought out the rest of his circle.
He found them in the playroom, and he nearly doubled over at the sight that he came upon. Crixus was tied to a chair, while Tommy's nieces sloppily applied various cosmetics to the man's face. Dardanos had already suffered such an indignity, although he seemed to take it in high spirits. Tommy stood off in the corner, smirking, while Eric didn't know what to think at this point. Miraak, meanwhile, seemed more than amused at what was going on. Now the question was, who had actually tied the former gladiator up?
"Hmmm. Uh, it seems we lack adult supervision," Harry finally managed, at last recomposing himself. "Um. Where's Remus?"
"Went to Trevelyan," said Eric, with a shrug, "he should be back in another hour or so."
"Oh. Well..." Harry rolled his eyes. "Mischief managed." He turned to leave.
"You do not free us?" asked Crixus.
"Why would I do that, and deprive miss Emily and miss Rosie such wonderful entertainment?" Harry smirked, turning around, "If you allowed yourself to become trapped by such young adversaries, then why should I provide rescue? Suffer consequences and see a lesson learned. Dardanos, what is the lesson you take from this?"
"Never underestimate your opponent, no matter who they might be."
"So noted, Doctore," said Crixus.
Harry shook his head, and retreated to his room, where he drew out a notepad and a pen. The plan would still need some of the fine details fleshed out... and what to do about his school friends? Brandon had a good point: they would need to be protected, particularly when things turned ugly. And there was no doubt. Eventually, things would get very ugly before they got better. Everything in the plan would result in most of the Wizarding world hating him—at least for a time. At least until everything was over and done, Voldemort sent off with Hermaeus Mora. Then... even after, the terrible things that were about to take place... there was no guarantee the public's perception could be changed.
To Harry, it really didn't matter. He would see Voldemort sent to Apocrypha, and his destiny would be put to grass, with Harry free to live out his life with Mazhe, in a world without expectations and demands. Perhaps he could work alongside Balimund—gods, how long had it been since he'd attended a lesson with the man? Perhaps—
His thoughts were interrupted, as he heard Mazhe calling for him from the common area. Harry tossed the notepad aside, and hurried out to the common room. He stopped in his tracks, realizing Mazhe had not come alone. He was in the company of a female dark elf dressed in a variant of the guild armour, something like that which Vipir the Fleet wore.
"What happened—and who's this?"
"Harry. Uh... complications at Snow Veil Sanctum. Get the rest of the circle."
"It's bad," Harry guessed.
"Treachery on a grand scale."
"Guys! Dining room, meeting!" Harry called out.
Under a minute later, everyone was gathered in the dining room. Crixus and Dardanos were still covered in sloppily-applied make-up. Mazhe arched an eyebrow at their appearance, but said, "First off. This is Karliah, a former guild member. Mercer Frey and I went to Snow Veil Sanctum... he led me to believe that Karliah here, murdered Gallus, the former guild master. Harry, actually, could you produce your pensieve? It would be better if you all just see what happened."
"Sure."
Harry held out a hand, and seconds later, a clay bowl came zooming in from another room. Karliah watched the strange magic with interest, as it came to rest at the centre of the table.
"I'll help draw the memory," said Harry.
"Great. Any time you're ready."
Harry pressed his index finger against Mazhe's temple, and pulled what looked like a white, gassy strand of hair away from his head, then dropped it in the pensieve.
"What are we about to see?" Justin asked.
"This is just before we encountered Karliah. Just play the memory, it should make sense."
Mazhe and Mercer were approaching a door similar to one Harry had seen back in Bleak Falls Burrow. Three rings, and a key hole. A puzzle door.
"Ah, it's one of the infamous Nordic puzzle doors. How quaint," Mercer sneered, "Without the matching claw, they're normally impossible to open. And since I'm certain Karliah already did away with it, we're on our own."
Mercer rummaged in one of his many pockets, and from their angle, the object he produced looked like a key of some sort. He pressed it against the key stone.
"Fortunately, these doors have a weakness if you know how to exploit it. Quite simple, really." He gave it a twist, and there came a loud 'clunk', as the three wheels spun wildly. The door then began to sink into the groove in the floor, revealing the chamber beyond.
"Karliah's close, I'm certain of it. Now let's get moving."
The pair of them stepped through the opening, and then—
THWACK. Mazhe crumpled to the ground, an arrow protruding from his chest. The unseen assailant became visible, bow drawn, another arrow knocked and ready to fire.
"Do you honestly think your arrow will reach me before my blade finds your heart?" Mercer sneered.
"Give me a reason to try," Karliah answered.
Mercer let out a sarcastic chuckle. "You're a clever girl, Karliah. Buying Goldenglow Estate and funding Honningbrew Meadery was inspired."
"To ensure an enemy's defeat, you must first undermine his allies," Karliah quoted, "It was the first lesson Gallus taught us."
Another sneer from Mercer. "You always were a quick study."
"Not quick enough. Otherwise Gallus would still be alive."
"Gallus had his wealth and he had you. All he had to do was look the other way."
"Did you forget the Oath we took as Nightingales? Did you simply expect him to simply ignore your methods?"
"Enough of this mindless banter!" Mercer roared, brandishing his sword, "Come, Karliah. It's time for you and Gallus to become reunited!"
In one swift motion, Karliah had produced a potion, and consumed its contents. With a noisy pop, she vanished.
"I'm no fool, Mercer. Crossing blades with you would be a death sentence," came her disembodied voice, "But I can promise the next time we meet, it will be your undoing."
Mercer stalked back over to where Mazhe lay. He was completely paralysed, and to the casual observer, could be mistaken for dead.
"How interesting. It appears Gallus's history has repeated itself," said Mercer, lightly, "Karliah has provided me with the means to be rid of you, and this ancient tomb becomes your final resting place. But do you know what intrigues me the most? The fact that this was all possible because of you."
He brandished his blade, and pointed it at Mazhe's chest.
"Farewell. I'll be certain to give Brynjolf your regards."
Harry felt himself die a little inside, seeing the blade penetrate his mate's chest. The scene changed.
Karliah's face now filled the majority of the hologram, but that quickly changed, reflecting Mazhe's restored state of awareness.
"Easy, easy. Don't get up so quickly," said Karliah, gently. "How are you feeling?"
"Hang on... you shot me!" Mazhe hissed, but Karliah pressed him down.
"No, I saved your life. My arrow was tipped with a unique paralytic poison. It slowed your heart and kept you from bleeding out. Had I intended to kill you, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"Then I'm in your debt. I... I'm Mazhe."
"How are you feeling?" Karliah again pressed.
"Well enough. You did fine patch work. You have my gratitude, and likely that of my partner when you meet him in about two minutes. We need to finish this conversation elsewhere. Treachery on a scale unimaginable. My mate and the rest of the circle will need to know exactly what's going on, as does the guild."
"Wait—"
"Karliah. We don't know each other well, but... we know about some very dark treachery going on with the guild. I need the rest of the circle on board before we proceed."
"Very well."
Mazhe produced his mobile, and accessed the teleport index.
"Take hold of my arm, and don't let go of it until I tell you to."
There, the memory ended. Mazhe found himself in a death grip, courtesy of his partner.
"Gods... you could've died!"
"And I didn't. Harry, I'm fine. Karliah took good care of me."
Harry let go of him, and sighed, turning to face the newcomer.
"I... I guess I should say gratitude. I find myself eating words spoken only hours before, in the company of our Queen."
"Life has a funny way of coming back to bite us in the ass," said Justin, shaking his head. "Getting off track here."
"What was your reason for travelling to Snow Veil Sanctum in the first place?" Harry asked.
"My purpose in using Snow Veil Sanctum to ambush Mercer wasn't simply for irony's sake," Karliah answered.
She reached into her satchel, and withdrew a leather bound journal.
"Before both of you arrived, I recovered a journal from Gallus's remains. I suspect the information we need is written inside."
She looked frustrated as she opened it, and lay it on the table in front of Mazhe.
"Gods. What... what sort of language is this? Harry? Care to have a look?"
Harry glanced at the strange symbols, and was equally confused.
"My guess... it looks Elven. Dwemer, maybe?" Harry guessed. "Someone at the College might know."
It was like a light had come on.
"Enthir... Gallus's friend at the College of Winterhold. Of course! It's the only outsider Gallus trusted with the knowledge of his Nightingale identity."
Harry let out a snicker. "Gods... why does that not surprise me, that he'd be involved with the guild?"
"You know him?"
"Quite well. I was... well, I guess I still am, uh, sort of a student at the College. So yes, we know each other quite well."
"We did give him a mobile," said Justin.
"What's this 'Nightingale'? You've said it before," said Mazhe.
"There were three of us. Myself, Gallus and Mercer. We were a anonymous splinter of the Thieves Guild. That, by the way, must remain a secret."
"It shall remain a secret, then. Gods... the number of things we know of that we shouldn't. Borders on criminal," said Harry, shaking his head. "Mazhe, ring up Enthir. Take a snapshot of the page, maybe he might make sense of it."
"Worth a shot. If not, we can easily pop over to the College and speak to him in person."
"This way of travel, it's extraordinary," said Karliah.
"Like you have your secrets, we have ours. These—" said Mazhe, showing the phone, "—are one of them."
He held the mobile over the open journal, and snapped a couple of pictures of them, before pulling up the contact list. He then keyed in a message, and sent it, along with the pictures.
Moments later, his mobile rang.
"Enthir. You're on speaker."
"It's the Falmer language," came Enthir's voice, "What's it from?"
"It's Gallus' journal," said Karliah.
"You finally found it?" Enthir let out a chuckle. "This is just like Gallus. A dear friend, but always too clever for his own good."
"The important thing, can it be translated?"
"I know someone who might. The court wizard of Markarth, Calcelmo, may have the materials you need to get the journal translated. A word of warning. Calcelmo is a fierce guardian of his research. Getting the information won't be easy."
"We'll uncover means. Gratitude, Enthir," said Harry.
"Stay safe. And Karliah. Good to hear from you again."
"Likewise."
The connection closed.
"Guess I'm off to Markarth—"
"WE'RE off to Markarth," Harry corrected, waspishly, "You think after what just happened, I'm letting you go off on your own again? Meyus jul—Foolish man! You'll have to see me to the afterlife first!"
Mazhe blew out a breath. "Guess I should expect that." He thought for a moment. "We need someone to keep an eye on things in the Flagon and the cistern. Not a word to anyone at this point. If Mercer shows up... call us at once."
"Tommy and I can handle it," said Justin, "Tommy won't be out of place at the Flagon, while I can disappear."
"And we'll be coming along to Markarth," said Brandon, firmly, "Unexpected danger and all that."
"If it is acceptable, I will wait here," said Karliah.
"It's perfectly fine. Uh, actually, Eric, you mind sticking around? The guild does have walk-in privileges here. Anyone comes by, just give us a call," said Mazhe.
"Makes sense," Eric agreed.
"Right. Best put hands and minds to purpose." Harry produced his mobile, and began searching the teleport list.
They appeared just inside the main gates to the city. From there, it was a walk up to Understone Keep, which had been built into the side of the cliffs. Markarth itself had been built in an enormous notch cut out of the land, the cliffs going up on all but one side, making it naturally defensible. If anything, Harry thought the city had a rather cold, inhospitable feeling to it.
Quiet inquiries had them enter a large chamber with a stream flowing through it. There, they found the object of their query, idly chatting with a younger mage.
"Master Calcelmo. If we could have a word," said Mazhe.
The man in question turned around. He was tall, like most Altmer were. He cast his eyes on the party, and frowned, looking annoyed.
"What do you want?! Can't you see I'm busy?"
Harry could see at once the man was going to be difficult, and so while Mazhe retrieved the journal, providing the perfect distraction, Harry discreetly gestured with a finger, whispering, "Confundus."
Calcelmo blinked a moment, looking confused.
"What did you want? Oh, yes. Let me see it a moment."
Mazhe was momentarily confused as well, but passed over the journal.
"Ah, of course," Calcelmo said, glancing at the first page, "This is written in the language of the Falmer."
"As we already know. Are you able to help us translate it?" asked Harry.
"Not here. But do follow me. I have something that may help."
A quarter of an hour later, they stood in what looked like Calcelmo's private quarters.
"I don't ordinarily allow visitors into my laboratory. I expect what you see here to remain secret."
"Of course," said Mazhe.
"Now. You see that carved stone up there?" Calcelmo pointed to a nearly white carved stone which rested on the upper balcony. "The text carved into it provides translation between the Falmer language and the common language. I leave it up to you to figure a way to see it copied."
"We can take pictures of it," said Harry, "We'll send you the copies if you like."
"That would be wonderful, though I am lost on how you can—" Calcelmo stopped speaking when Brandon snapped a picture of them using his mobile.
"It's rather unique technology."
"I'll say! By the Eight, do you realize how much work such a thing would save?"
"We know very well, sir," said Harry, "I know Tolfdir has been making great use of the mobiles we've passed him. Documenting artefacts from our excavation at Saarthal has become effortless."
"We'll have to speak with Justin. Maybe he can set Calcelmo up with a mobile of his own," said Brandon, "It's the least we can do for his help here."
Within a half hour, Mazhe had taken dozens of pictures of the enormous stone, capturing the inscribed text in perfect detail. Calcelmo was fascinated by the idea, considering it usually took hours to document a single artefact. Here, this group of people were able to completely and accurately document an item within minutes. Of course, the Falmer translation stone was no small object, and so took longer, but... the record they collected was a perfect virtual representation! If they gave him one of those... gadgets... the quality of his research would grow exponentially.
Returning to the apartment, they found Brynjolf had wandered in, and now stood glaring at the former guild member. The rest of the occupants had moved between them so nothing more could come of the encounter.
"Guys! Enough," Harry snapped, "Brynjolf, have a look at the memory in the pensieve—" he gestured to the clay bowl resting on the table. "Our esteemed guild master is a traitor and a murderer, and we have proof."
Brynjolf arched an eyebrow, but went into the dining room.
"Did you get the translation?" Karliah asked, hopeful.
"Not directly. We have a means of translating it, but... I think we need Enthir to do it. You trust him?" asked Mazhe.
"Absolutely."
Mazhe produced his mobile, and sent a text message, along with one of the pictures we took of the stone.
Only moments later, there came a blur near the entrance, and Enthir quickly regained his bearings.
"Intriguing. Calcelmo was cooperative?" he asked.
"Very. Though we'll need to give him one of our mobile phones. I think he wanted to make love to mine," said Mazhe, shaking his head.
"Disturbing," said Harry, shaking his head. "Meantime... guess we need Justin's help on this, since he's got the equipment to make copies."
"No, we should be able to do... well... Mazhe, can I see your mobile a sec.?" asked Brandon. Mazhe passed over his mobile, and Brandon pressed a button on the side. "These things have an expand feature. Here."
Another button press had the mobile change into a tablet, and expand to three times its size.
"I can make it bigger if you need."
"N-no, that is perfectly acceptable," said Enthir, looking over Brandon's shoulder. "If you could show me how it's done, and send copies of the pictures, I can get to work."
"How much time will you need?"
"I can't be certain."
"We need this as quickly as possible," said Karliah, glancing at the dining room, where Brynjolf was still frozen in front of the pensieve.
"I'll do my best."
With Enthir choosing to occupy the opposite end of the table in the dining room, the rest of the group settled into seats in the common room.
"No matter what's in Gallus' journal, it doesn't change the fact that Mercer has to be dealt with," said Mazhe, "The man's murdered Gallus, he tried to kill both Karliah and I, the gods only know what other sort of damage he's done."
"Agreed. He has to be stopped, before he can do further damage to the guild. And if my suspicions are correct, he wields immense power, and will be very difficult to stop."
"How long has he been in charge?" asked Brandon.
"Twenty five years. He was guild second before that," answered Karliah.
"And it was then that the guild began to decline," said Mazhe, "Tell me if I'm wrong."
"No, you would be spot on, lad." Everyone turned to find Brynjolf standing in the doorway leading into the dining room. "After seeing what he tried to do, it all makes sense. Karliah, you have my apologies, lass."
"It is not necessary, Brynjolf. All that matters is that we uncover the truth."
"And when we catch up to the nivahriin mey, we will know all of his dirty little secrets. I'll be asking him some very direct questions while he is under the influence of Veritaserum—in front of the entire membership of the guild," said Harry, viciously.
"Mercer won't be taken alive," said Karliah.
"Want to bet on it? The lot of us, versus one man? I don't care what sort of power he wields. We—all of us—confronted and destroyed Alduin himself on the threshold of Sovngarde. So unless Mercer Frey is some sort of god, he will pale in comparison," said Mazhe. "I am Dovahkiin. I'll shout him nearly to pieces if I have to."
"We need him alive," said Harry, again.
An hour later, Enthir called everyone into the dining room.
"I won't have a complete translation for you, but I can give you a basic summary. Is that sufficient?"
"As long as it covers the main points," Karliah answered.
"It appears that Gallus had suspicions about Mercer Frey's allegiance to the Guild for months. Gallus had begun to uncover what he calls a, quote, '...unduly lavish lifestyle replete with spending vast amounts of gold on personal pleasures'."
"Does the journal say where this wealth was coming from?"
"Three guesses, the first two don't count," Tommy snorted.
"And Gallus had similar thoughts," said Enthir, "he was certain Mercer had been removing funds from the Guild's treasury without anyone's knowledge."
"And what about the Nightingales?" asked Karliah.
"Gallus mentions something about... 'the failure of the Nightingales', though he doesn't elaborate. He also repeatedly mentions his strong belief that Mercer desecrated something known as the Twilight Sepulcher."
"Shadows preserve us. So it's true..."
"I'm not familiar with the Twilight Sepulcher. What is it? What... what's Mercer Frey done?" Enthir looked angry.
"I'm sorry Enthir. There are some things that must remain secret. Even this number of people is more than I'm comfortable with."
"It's all right, Karliah, you don't have to say a word."
Enthir turned to Mazhe.
"Listen, all I want is the truth to be revealed to the Guild. They respected Karliah, and she deserves better. Do whatever you can and I'd consider it a personal favour."
"We'll see it done. We know, and now Brynjolf knows. We'll see that Karliah's name is cleared as well."
They waited for Enthir to collect his notes, and vanish, before Brynjolf spoke up.
"Though I'm convinced of the truth, lass, we still need to be certain. We'll need to open the vault."
"Then let's go. Have both Vex and Delvin join us," said Mazhe, "they need to see this treachery for themselves."
"Delvin will join us as it is, he's the only other person with a key, aside from myself and Mercer."
"Can his key be revoked?" asked Harry.
"No."
"Crixus, Dardanos, and Tommy. I would have you three remain in the cistern to keep watch. Should the bastard show himself, contact us at once," said Mazhe.
"I would join them," Miraak offered.
"Agreed. Brandon and Eric, you guys watch the Ragged Flagon."
"If he's spotted?"
"We need him alive. Feel free to curse him to Oblivion and back, just make sure he's alive," said Mazhe, nastily.
They left the apartment, and entered the Ragged Flagon.
"Delvin, Vex. We have some bad business afoot, and need to open the vault," said Brynjolf.
"What sort of business?" asked Delvin, setting down his mug of mead. The pair of them joined the group.
"Mercer's been stealing from the vault for years," answered Brynjolf, gravely.
"How can Mercer open up a vault that needs two keys? It's impossible," Delvin protested, "Could he pick his way in?"
Vex shook her head. "That door has the best puzzle locks money can buy. There's no way it can be picked open."
"He didn't need to pick the lock," answered Karliah, as they passed into the cistern itself.
"What's she on about?"
"Use your key on the vault, Delvin. We'll open it up and find out the truth," said Brynjolf, with finality.
While the rest of the guild membership looked on, Delvin approached the large metal doors of the vault, and produced his key. He pushed it into the lock, and turned it, then gave the door a shove. It remained closed and locked.
"I've used my key, but the vault's still locked up tighter than a drum. Now use yours."
Brynjolf stepped up to the doors, and produced his key. This time, the doors swung inward, and both Brynjolf and Delvin sucked in a sharp breath at the sight the found within it.
"By the Eight..."
Harry peered into the vault, and felt white-hot anger lick his insides. The chests inside, at least the few left behind, lay open, bereft of their contents. Perhaps a few Septims lay on the floor, and perhaps a few worthless weapons, but that was it. The vault was nearly bare. Nearly two years that Harry had been a member, contributing thousands of Septims to the coffers—all of it gone.
"The gold... the jewels... it's all gone!" Delvin exclaimed, a pained look crossing his face.
Vex, meanwhile, was furious, drawing her blade. "That son-of-a-bitch! I'll kill him!"
"Vex! Put it away... right now. We can't afford to lose our heads... we need to calm down and focus," said Brynjolf, trying to calm himself down. As guild second, it fell to him to keep everyone else in line at this point.
"Do what he says, Vex. This isn't helpin' right now," said Delvin.
"Fine," Vex huffed, putting her blade back in its sheath, "We do it your way. For now."
"Delvin... Vex... the pair of you join the rest of Harry's circle and watch the Flagon. If Mercer shows up, come tell me right away."
Brynjolf turned to Mazhe.
"Meanwhile, I have an important task for you."
"Name it."
"I need you to break into Mercer's home and search for anything that could tell us where he's gone."
"Mercer has a place here?" Harry questioned.
"Aye. A gift from the Black-Briars after they kicked the previous family out... place called Riftweald Manor. He never stays there, just pays for the upkeep on it. Hired some lout by the name of Vald to guard the place."
"I'll see it done," said Mazhe.
"Be careful, lad. It's the last place in Skyrim I'd ever want to send you. Just get in, get the information and leave. And you have permission to kill anyone that gets in your way."
"How do I get in?"
"Good question. I've only set foot inside a few times myself and that was in Mercer's company. If you can get past his trained watchdog, I think your best bet might be the ramp to the second floor balcony in his backyard."
"And I don't suppose the ramp is easy access."
"No. It's some sort of crazy contraption Mercer commissioned for quick escapes. I'd wager a well-placed shot at the ramp's mechanism would lower it in a hurry."
Mazhe smirked. "So a blade through Vald's eye socket, and an arrow to drop the ramp. I'll return shortly." He briefly embraced Harry, then took off.
"Harry," said Brynjolf, "Meanwhile, I would have you have a look around, ask around, see if anyone's—"
"Wait," Harry interrupted him, "It takes hours to get from Windhelm to Riften. Mercer's likely still on his way back here. We simply lie in wait for him."
"Aye, a good plan. I still forget you have such a unique way of travel."
"As do you. It makes travel so much quicker. Think of how this may have played out, had Mazhe not been able to return so quickly. What sort of lies would have fallen from Mercer's treacherous tongue?"
After a tense half-hour wait, Mazhe returned. He produced a set of journals and notes.
"Mercer wasn't there, but I found these journals and notes in his office."
Brynjolf took the journal and leafed through it. He gave a start.
"Shor's beard, he's going after the Eyes of the Falmer. That was Gallus' pet project."
"It won't matter," said Harry, "He obviously had plans of returning here first. He comes in here, we've got him."
"We've sent additional SOU to scout for his location," said Brandon. He stood near the tunnel leading back out to the Ragged Flagon.
"have they reported back?" Harry asked.
"Not yet."
Harry thought for a moment. "Have them tag him with a tracking charm once they catch up with him. That way should he do something unexpected, we can still find him."
"Good thinking, Harry. I'll send a message."
"No matter what," Karliah said, "There is one matter we haven't dealt with. Mercer is a Nightingale, an agent of Nocturnal. We have to be very careful."
"And 'we' are agents of Hermaeus Mora. He has his power, and we have ours," said Harry, simply.
"In other words, when we have our answers from the bastard, we'll stick a bow on his head and present him as a lovely gift to the daedric prince of forbidden knowledge. I'm sure he'll take pleasure in plucking the thoughts and secrets from Mercer's head," said Mazhe, viciously.
"A fate worse than death. And a warning to never cross us."
The other members of the guild standing around watching the conversation visually shivered at the frosty declaration.
Karliah folded her arms across her chest, looking frustrated. "Yet the pair of you still have no understanding of the power Mercer wields. There are still details I haven't shared yet, and really cannot. Just know that he can tap into virtually unlimited power. Against that, we don't stand a chance."
"Then how do we face him?"
"Mazhe, Brynjolf. I would have the pair of you meet me beside an old standing stone just to the south of the city. There we will be able to seek the advantage we need to meet Mercer head on."
"But—"
"Harry. I think we can trust Karliah," said Mazhe. "If Mercer shows up before we get back—"
"He won't go anywhere. Go then, gain this advantage. I still believe it unnecessary. We do have the element of surprise."
They were gone about a half hour. When Mazhe returned, he looked excited, for lack of a better word.
"What happened?"
"We spoke to Nocturnal herself! Can you believe it? I... Shor's beard, I'm on cloud nine."
"Really?" Harry embraced his mate. "I'm happy for you. I know... she's your patron deity and all."
"Uh... exactly. I think... everything's gonna be okay. I mean, come on, guys. We've faced Alduin himself. Mercer's no god... not even in the same league."
"We'll face him as one. Let's relax. It should look like it's business as usual. Uh, close the vault," Harry decided.
"Good thinking, lad. Well? What are you waiting for?! Get to it!" Brynjolf snapped, to the room at large.
It was like a switch had been turned on, as the membership quickly moved off, returning to their normal activities. Niruin and Vipir made for the vault, and pulled the doors closed—it had the added benefit of hiding the fact that the vault was actually empty.
"Karliah and Mazhe, both of you should be out of sight."
"Right. If you wouldn't mind loaning Karliah your cloak," Mazhe suggested, "I have other ways of remaining out of sight."
"Good thinking." Harry dug in his rucksack, and pulled out his invisibility cloak. "This is a family heirloom. Treat it well."
"Shadows preserve us!" Karliah was astounded, as Harry demonstrated the cloak's feature.
"I keep telling the lad, if he were to accept more work, he would be filthy rich with that cloak," said Brynjolf.
"And we've been over that enough, 'Bryn. I'm happy with the amount of work I do as it is. Counting all of you as family is the true reward," Harry answered, before passing the cloak over.
Karliah looked it over a moment, before slinging it over her shoulders, and vanishing.
"The heists I could pull off with such a cloak, it's astounding," came her disembodied voice.
"Well, I do know my dad got into all sorts of mischief at the school he attended as a boy," said Harry, smirking.
It was then Brandon re-entered the cistern.
"Mercer's been spotted a few miles north of Shor's Stone," he reported, "The carriage stopped for the night."
"So he won't be back into the cistern until morning. Uh... what if we could get more guys watching topside?" Harry wondered.
"It only takes a phone call. Though the Queen probably would never approve of resources being used to assist a criminal element," said Brandon. He smirked as he said it, though.
It was after dawn the following morning when everyone was awakened by Brandon.
"He's entered the city. He's coming through the entrance in the cemetery."
"Places everyone. Or... well, act normal. And relax!" said Mazhe. He and Harry had spent the night in the cistern itself—considering there was a bed reserved for them.
Mazhe once again vanished, while Karliah donned Harry's invisibility cloak. Only seconds later, there was the scraping of the hatch that led up to the cemetery, and footsteps on the ladder. Then, seconds after, Mercer stepped into the cistern itself.
"Brynjolf. Most unfortunate business. Karliah attacked us at Snow Veil Sanctum. Your new protege won't be returning, he was killed when she ambushed us."
"H-how... where..." Harry was a great actor, feigning shock and upset.
"Come, now, Harry. You know the risks," Mercer said, coldly, "Up until now, I've allowed you to pick and choose what sort of work you take, since he more than made up for it.
"Now I expect you to do exactly what we say, when we say. Is that in any way unclear?"
"Yeah. I understand you perfectly clear." In the blink of an eye, Harry brought a hand up. "Stupefy."
Being a Breton, Mercer was most certainly resistant to some forms of magic. Harry knew better than to try using the magic he'd learned in Tamriel—Harry had learned that the hard way, sparring with Mazhe. He had to be sure, and so relied on what he'd learned at Hogwarts, and from the Commonwealth. It worked like a charm, and the guild master collapsed in a heap.
That was the cue for Mazhe and Karliah to reveal themselves. Moments later, Brandon, Eric, and the rest of Harry's circle arrived. Mercer was forced onto a chair, and it was Eric who bound him in heavy conjured cords. Brandon, meanwhile, produced a vial of Veritaserum. He carried some in his kit since the incident back in Harry's fourth year concerning Barty Crouch, Jr.
"Your show, Harry."
"Right. Everyone gather around, so you all know the truth of what's really going on here. Rennervate."
Mercer opened his eyes, but still looked dazed from the magical attack. After all, Harry had power in spades. His curses hurt.
"Good of you to rejoin us, guild master," said Mazhe, a nasty smirk on his face. Harry stood to his right, while Karliah stood to his right. All of them looked furious.
Mercer was in a panic. The key was secured in one of his pouches, and, he realized, he was bound almost painfully tight to a chair. 'No matter what they might suspect, they won't learn anything by it,' he smirked, in his head.
He was shocked when Harry said, "He believes we won't learn anything. Lieutenant Commander McAllister. I think we might need to apply a little persuasion."
"Your threats mean nothing!" Mercer roared.
"We'll see, traitor," Harry hissed, while Brandon un-stoppered the vial. "Now open your mouth."
"No."
"No? Perhaps this will loosen the tongue. Crucio," Brandon hissed, wand practically vibrating in his hand.
PAIN. Pain, pain, pain. Unimaginable, terrible, unmitigated pain bloomed into Mercer's very soul. The rest of those present shifted very uncomfortably, hearing the man screaming his lungs out. Dardanos and Crixus, meanwhile, had a very good idea of exactly what sort of pain the man was experiencing, given what they had experienced at the summoning of the Eye of Magnus. It did little to mitigate the discomfort.
Brandon ended the curse, and Mercer collapsed, heaving.
"Bloody hell," Harry managed, "That's illegal!"
"We carry authority to use it if necessary," answered Eric, "You want answers, don't you?"
Harry blew out a breath. It certainly didn't set him at ease. No matter, they would deal with the fallout from that later. For now... "Open your mouth," he spoke, calmly.
This time, Mercer was more than willing, and he opened his mouth. Brandon allowed three drops of the potion to fall into it, before re-stoppering the vial.
"Now we wait a minute or so, for the potion to take effect."
"Gods... still can't believe you just used an unforgivable, Brandon," said Harry, shaking his head, "Whether authorized to do it or not, it still curses your soul!"
"Harry. My soul has been cursed many times over. I'm a soldier. It's part of what I do. I do the shit that Joe Public would spit on me for, but yet are thankful I'm willing to do it. Does that make sense?"
"I guess."
"It's about making the tough decisions... the shit decisions that... no matter what you want... it ends up with people getting hurt—"
"Or sent to the afterlife," said Crixus.
"Yes, exactly. Sometimes, we don't have a choice. Sometimes, we just have to do what's necessary."
"The end justifies the means," said Mazhe.
"Exactly. And I'm not talking about some whiskered nutjob's version of the greater good... but the true greater good. What is truly best for everyone," said Brandon.
"Right. I guess..."
Harry blew out another breath, and turned his attention back to Mercer.
"Did you murder Gallus?"
"Yes."
"Did you remove the Skeleton Key from its lock in the Twilight Sepulchre?" asked Karliah.
"Yes."
"Do you have it on you?" came Harry's question.
"Yes."
"Accio Skeleton Key," said Harry, raising a hand. There was a shifting of the ropes, and the strange key zoomed out, to smack into his hand. The key end indeed looked like that of an old-fashioned skeleton key. The handle was ovular in shape, and somewhat resembled the Orb of Magnus, a deep blue-green shade.
"Mazhe..."
"Thanks." Mazhe took the key, and shoved it into his pocket.
"Accio vault key." There was a second vibration, and a much smaller key smacked into his hand. "Brynjolf. You should—"
"No. That one goes to Mazhe."
Mazhe arched an eyebrow, but accepted the vault key.
"Did you attempt to murder Mazhe?" Harry asked.
"Yes."
That got a vicious smirk from the young wizard. "That will seal your fate. One final question. Where did you stow the contents of the vault?"
"There is a Dwemer ruin east of Markarth called Arkngthamz(1). The instability of it keeps casual intruders away."
"Though we could just use the Skeleton Key... is the area keeping the contents locked in any way?"
"I have a key, yes. Upper pouch on my bandolier," Mercer answered.
"Accio key," Harry intoned. The required key zoomed into his hand.
"Any further questions?" Brandon asked. With no answer, he applied the antidote.
"Now that you've weaselled the truth out of me, what do you plan to accomplish?" Mercer sneered, "The guild is ruined, as it should have been long ago! What... what's Karliah been filling your head with? Tales of honour?! Nocturnal doesn't care about you, and she certainly doesn't care about the guild!"
"No. I disagree," said Harry, "Knowing the truth is an important step. The next, involves dealing out justice. I'm sure the membership would likely prefer to take your head and be done with it.
"I, however, feel death would be too easy. You've betrayed the very people who are supposed to be your family. No better than a father murdering his children! You're supposed to be a leader, not some cowardly snake in the grass with murder in his heart! No, your fate will be something far worse than death."
"I do not fear Nocturnal," Mercer spat.
"Oh, no. You don't deserve her tender mercies," Mazhe smirked, "During our meeting with our dark mistress, I mentioned Harry's proposition on how to mete out justice to you. She fully sanctions the action Harry is about to take."
On cue, Harry reached into his rucksack, and pulled out 'Waking Dreams'. He touched a finger to its spine, whispering, "May the owner of this book claim the next soul to open it, to forever walk the realm of Apocrypha."
"A book?!" Mercer mocked, "You are forcing me to read a book? I always suspected you were a little off your nut, boy."
"I'm no boy. And this is not just any book. And yes, I'm forcing you to read it."
Harry gestured with a hand, and Mercer suddenly felt the compulsion taking hold... the desire to read the heavy tome in Harry's hands, from beginning to end. He found the heavy cords vanish, and his hands were already moving... must... read.
Mercer tried to fight the compulsion, but it was too strong. Harry, of course, helped things by bringing the book over. And it was in his hands... opening... yes... and a sickly, oily tentacle exploded from the book, to impale him through the chest, while a cloud of eyes appeared nearby.
"Ah, Harry. You cross paths with a dark mistress with this offering," said Hermaeus Mora, amused, "This one has many secrets, and I shall take pleasure in learning each and every one of them."
"This action has the sanction of Nocturnal, my lord," said Mazhe, with a bow.
"Indeed?"
"Another nivahriin mey who stomped on my dick nerve, sir. Now he lives and dies at your pleasure," Harry smirked.
Mercer's eyes were darting around, a terrified look on his face, as he now understood exactly what Harry had meant, about a fate worse than death. There came a crackling sizzle, and Mercer vanished, the book falling to the ground with a noisy 'smack'.
"You please me yet again, Harry," said Hermaeus Mora, with a chuckle.
"As long as there are fools who continue to cross me, sir."
"Indeed. Happy hunting, young mage." The cloud of eyes vanished.
For several moments, no one moved, virtually paralysed at what they'd just seen.
"I... never... Shadows preserve us..." Karliah muttered.
"If a hair's breath of what has just transpired here becomes knowledge outside of this cistern, I will discover the one responsible, and they will suffer an identical fate. Is that in any way unclear?" Harry's voice carried loudly and clearly over the room, only to be met with silence.
"He demands an answer!" Mazhe barked.
"My lips are sealed," came Vipir's voice. Others quickly joined in with a similar promise.
"All right. Back to work!" Brynjolf commanded.
More muttering from the gathered group, but everyone began to go off to tend to their own matters. Both Vex and Delvin headed back toward the Ragged Flagon, leaving the circle still gathered at the desk.
"One thing that remains to be done," said Karliah, "The Skeleton Key must be returned to its lock in the Twilight Sepulchre."
"Where is it located?" Mazhe asked, producing his mobile. He changed it into tablet form, then pulled up the map.
"Can you make it larger?" Karliah asked, pointing to a location west of Falkreath.
A few gestures with a finger had the map zoomed in on the desired location.
"You'll find it here. And though I know all of you would want to join him, only Mazhe will be allowed into the interior. Outsiders are not permitted."
"We can travel with him to the entrance," said Harry.
"And it's not optional," said Mazhe, "They either come with us, or you can return the key yourself."
Karliah huffed, but gave a curt nod.
"Great. I think we have a teleport point close to it. A fort—ah, here we are," said Mazhe, touching the location with a finger. "Those of you coming with, link arms."
"I will stay here to keep a lid on things. Good luck, lad," said Brynjolf.
The large group vanished with a blur of limbs, only to land a moment later outside of Cracked Tusk Keep, a fort that had been up until recently occupied by Orc bandits. The fort now lay deserted.
From there, it was an hour's walk to the Sepulchre, punctuated by a few encounters, none of which providing any sort of real challenge. Even the dragon that decided to intrude on the party was brought down rather swiftly, with Mazhe absorbing the soul.
"Hey Mazhe... ever think of trying to make weapons or armour out of their bones?" Harry asked, as they continued, leaving the carcass behind.
"Uh, I don't know. That question would probably be better answered by Balimund, or Eorland Grey-mane," Mazhe answered.
Finally, they arrived at the entrance to a tomb, almost completely hidden by the overhanging rocks. Other than the door itself, there was really no indication the site existed. Without Karliah present, it likely would have taken much longer to locate it. Mazhe once again embraced his mate, before disappearing inside.
A half hour later, Karliah shifted as though feeling something.
"He's made it into the heart of the chamber. I'm going in to meet him, we'll return shortly." Before Harry could protest, Karliah too, vanished into the tomb.
"Gods... so much secrecy," Harry muttered.
"And we wield secrets of our own," said Dardanos.
"I guess."
"You worry for his well-being. Harry, the man is almost a mirror of you in so many ways."
"Think of it this way," said Tommy, "Another pile of bullshit that we put an end to."
"Thing is we really didn't need it. Considering the plot that's about to unfold back in our own world," said Harry.
"We've got something planned for the beginning of next month. So Harry's right," said Brandon, "We need you guys back into a routine, instead of running all over the province."
"No arguments there," said Tommy, "Last while for us has been... intense."
"And you both realize it's going to get worse before it gets better," Eric pointed out, "Things won't settle down until Voldemort is done with."
"How long you figure it will take, 'fore he decides to contact Harry?" Tommy asked.
"A couple of months at minimum," Brandon guessed, "Once he believes beyond reasonable doubt that Harry's truly abandoned the light."
"We're guessing probably sometime in the spring before we hear anything from him. Worst case scenario, Voldemort doesn't take the bait," Eric threw in.
"In that case, then we resort to more drastic measures. Polyjuice can get us into a lot of places."
Harry remained silent, listening to the rest of the circle discuss the matter. Eric did pose a frightening scenario. The grand plan they were hatching depended on Voldemort's perception. If the plan failed, then what? He mentally sighed. Too much to think about.
Just then, the door to the ruin opened, and Mazhe appeared, with Karliah trailing.
"It is done," he announced.
"No problems?" Harry asked, as the pair again embraced.
"None that I could not handle. Let's get back to the cistern, so we can let Brynjolf know, and—"
"Perhaps some wine to celebrate," Dardanos suggested.
"I like his train of thought. I would see it done," Harry agreed.
It was Justin who carried them all back to the Ragged Flagon via port key. Karliah at once disappeared into the cistern to find Brynjolf, while Mazhe spoke to Vekel. Only a minute later, Karliah returned, with Brynjolf in tow.
"It is done then?" asked the guild second.
"It is done. The key has been restored to its lock."
"That's it then. After all of those years of helplessly watching the Guild decline." Brynjolf gave a warm smile. "But enough of that... I'm confident that with you in charge, we'll soon have more gold than we could possibly spend."
"What—wait. Me? In charge?" Mazhe sputtered.
"Mazhe. It is thanks to you that Mercer's treachery was exposed. The guild is well on its way to being restored to its previous glory, so both Karliah and I are in agreement that it should be you to lead it."
"But..."
Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Come on, mate. It's your nature. You're a smashing mage, and a better thief, you and I both know it."
"I... uh..."
"You still have a bit of work to do yet," said Brynjolf, "Once we reestablish a footing in all of the major cities in the province, then we can make it official."
"But... what about you?" Mazhe tried, "I mean... gods... not exactly leader material—"
Brynjolf only smiled and shook his head. "I've been at this game a long time, my friend. A long time. I've stolen trinkets from nobles and framed priests for murder. I'm good at what I do, maybe even one of the best. But it's all I know. I've never been one to lead. Never desired it, never cared for it. Don't want it."
Mazhe let out a sigh, but grinned. "Very well. I... I guess you'll let me know when the time comes."
"Just keep on with the work you've done for us."
"Right," said Harry, "Let this be the beginning of a new era for our family. May the dark days fall behind us. Wine for everyone to mark this occasion!"
Needless to say, no one was in much shape to do anything the next day.
UP NEXT: The Commonwealth sets things in motion to help Harry deal with Voldemort once and for all; Harry meanwhile, takes steps to protect a number of supporters from England.
CHAPTER NOTES: Lots of dialogue here that's verbatim from the game. Adjusted in places to fit changes in the events and so on. Also, considering they have a method for quickly getting to many locations within the province, things don't take days here. The Thieves Guild main quest can take many days to complete, factoring in travel.
Additionally, a number of things veer away from canon here, since, once again, they're able to get back to the guild before Mercer returned. So no trek to Irkngthand. Mazhe still had to become a Nightingale, though, since the final job requires him to be. Not just anyone can step into the Twilight Sepulchre.
(1) Arkngthamz – a Dwemer ruin introduced with the Dawnguard expansion. Mercer is not kidding when he says the place is unstable—it's probably one of the most unstable ruins in the game. It's part of the side quest "Lost to the Ages". Most certainly, Harry and his friends will be doing that one, since they will most definitely want to recover the missing contents of the guild vault. Not to mention, the Aertherium Forge in Bthalft represents an insanely deep underground complex—Katriah remarks about this when the player steps off the elevator inside. The Commonwealth will have great interest in this in the future.