Chapter 12: On the Precipice of War
Dovakhiin, a deep voice in her head called to her. You don't have to fight this weakness. Your power can be limitless... if you are willing to unleash it. You have it in you... it is there. Seek us... call to us.
"No..." she responded reluctantly. She could feel the whirlwind in her mind again, causing her head to throb violently. Endless rage threatened to take over her, causing her blood boil and her whole body to burn. She wanted to destroy, to show the whole world what she was capable of. The fires of Oblivion did not present a challenge for her. But somehow it wasn't right...
Seize the world, Dovakhiin. It will bow to you. They will follow you... and the ones who don't you can break. You are a ruler, Dovakhiin. You were not meant to be some petty mortal with a miserable life. Make the world eternal. Make it yours.
"Go away..."
Why are you scared of the elves, Dovakhiin? They have no power over you. Go. Soar. Spare no-one. Your Thu'um is so much stronger than you think...
"You got it all wrong."
Do we now? the voice struck her with an intimidating force. They will betray you again. You shouldn't trust people... especially not the thief you're traveling with. He will try to use you... control you.
"Brynjolf? No, he..."
Get rid of him while you can, Dovakhiin. Use him... or kill him...
"NO!" she screamed aloud as she opened her eyes. She sat up, panting heavily, and noticed several people come running into her room, their eyes wide with shock.
"Boss, what happened?!" someone shouted.
She stared at them in confusion, not able to tell who is who in the dim light that was coming from the corridor.
"Sorry to frighten you," she said weakly. "It was just a bad dream." She stood up and stretched her arms.
"You sure you wanna get up already, boss? You didn't look so well..."
"How long have I been out?"
"A couple of hours, I s'pose. A while, but not so long."
"I'm thirsty..."
Some of the thieves in her room exchanged looks.
"So," she heard a silent voice whisper in her ear and recognized Thrynn, the former bandit, "what do you prefer, boss? Black-Briar Reserve? Some quality sujamma? Or maybe something hotter? How about a bit of our last shipment of scooma? Damn good stuff, I tell you."
"Water, maybe?" she asked, her voice ice-cold, and grabbed his collar so his face was now just a few inches from hers. "Listen now, and listen well. It's fine if you drink from time to time but don't you get me started on skooma. That stuff makes you lose your mind completely. One drop is enough to ruin your life. You better remember it before someone cuts your throat in your delirium."
"O... okay," he replied in a trembling voice. "It was just a joke anyway."
"A bad joke," she grumbled and left the room.
An unbelievable sight opened up before her when she entered the main hall. A number of chairs were lying about, two of which were broken. A table had been knocked upside down. Around it, several bottles lay in pieces, the broken glass reflecting the shimmering light from a nearby candle. And right next to the short wall separating the area with tables from the rest of the room, Brynjolf and Delvin Mallory were sitting on their chairs, their heads resting face down on a table covered with bottles and glasses. She shook her head in disbelief and walked down to take a better look at them. She could hear a chuckle from behind.
"They had a drinking contest," Vex explained. It was the first time Aislinn saw her amused.
"Who won?" Aislinn asked with a curious smile.
"They stopped counting after the fifth bottle."
Aislinn looked at Brynjolf and turned his head so she could see his face.
He looks almost cu... she cut the thought before she could finish it and shook her head. Then she lifted him as if he was a wooden doll and carried him to the same bed she had been sleeping in a while ago, causing the thieves she passed burst in a roar of laughter.
"I'm going to Riften for a while," she informed the guild members afterwards. "Be back in a few hours I'd say."
"Alone?" Vex asked her, her brows furrowed.
"I'll be fine," Aislinn said persuasively. "It's just around a corner and I'm only going to pay Jarl Maven a visit."
"No way. Darling Brynjolf would kill me if I let you go alone, so you get to pick an escort."
"I'll go with her," Karliah's quiet voice joined the conversation. "I'd appreciate some fresh air anyway."
Aislinn sighed. "I'm telling you I'll be fine. You don't have to babysit me."
"Think of it as two friends having a nice walk together," Karliah winked at her.
Aislinn shook her head and grabbed her weapons, a mug of water and a slice of dark bread on her way to the cave entrance. Karliah followed her and the two of them soon found themselves walking down the path to Riften curbed by birch trees. Golden light was shining through their branches standing in light of the blue sky and the sun which was about to set. A while after they walked through the south gate and turned right, making their way into the Mistveil Keep.
There were a number of people gathered in the main hall, sitting at the long two-annexed table in its lower part. Myriads of candles and lamps, as well as the hearth fire in the center, lit the room brightly, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls and making the trophies and banners covering them even more majestic than usual. Right at the front, facing the entrance door, sat Maven Black-Briar, the Jarl of Riften, her dark hair tied in a set of elegant curly tails. Aislinn stared at her in envy for a moment. Maven Black-Briar was by no means beautiful and she was usually not particular about fashion, but she had that touch of elegance that Aislinn always wanted to have. She was probably powerful enough to get any man on his knees if she wanted to.
Well... just one would be enough, Aislinn chuckled to herself.
"Ah, so the star has decided to honor us with her presence," Maven commented dryly. "Do sit down, please. We have a lot to talk about."
For a moment, Karliah looked like she was about to give Maven a lesson. Aislinn gave her a warning look but the thief just shrugged and put up an innocent smile. Both of them took a seat on the right side of the table, opposite a well-made Nord legion warrior with wheat-colored hair in a bright steel armor, a huge decorated warhammer resting on his lap. He smiled and winked at Aislinn as she sat down. She suddenly felt the urge to turn away.
"That should be everyone," the Jarl said. "Let us begin. Most of you know I hate these meetings and I definitely hate dealing with dumbheaded fools who can't see further than the length of their own warhammer," she nodded bluntly to the wheat-haired warrior, "so I'd like to make this conversation as short as possible."
"Those dumbheaded fools are the ones who actually saved Riften this time, Maven, my darling," the man addressed returned with a grin. A wave of respect for a man who could stand up to Maven so easily suddenly overran Aislinn.
"You don't give me that, Marcus. I could have your head stuck on a pole with the next round of Black-Briar's finest," she grimaced. "Unfortunately, your strength can be of use now so that will have to wait. You and the Dragonborn are going to lead an invasion on Windhelm. I believe I can trust the Dragonborn to make sure you don't do anything stupid on your way there?" She turned her head to Aislinn.
"Depends what 'stupid' means," she replied with a snort. "Do we know anything about the state of the city?"
"We know that the streets there are narrow and the defenders will definitely have the advantage," Maven explained. "Moreover, you have to cross the river if you want to get close to the city. We are sure to lose men there. I'm not really good with battles so I'll leave the strategy planning to you. I'm quite curious what you're going to come up with since I don't see how you can take a city unless you have a dragon on your side."
"A dragon?" Aislinn chuckled. "I could get you a dragon."
Several pairs of eyes stared at her.
"You could get a dragon on our side?" Marcus drawled doubtfully. "Like... a real dragon? One of the beasts you are actually supposed to kill?"
"It's not that simple," she smiled, but her voice was cold as ice, "but I do indeed have the power to command a dragon. I can either call one that trusts me or make one obey me by force."
"A dragon that trusts you?"
"Let's just say he owes me a favor."
"Okay, so we got a dragon," Maven nodded with an unreadable expression. "I guess I could've expected nothing less of you... even though I do hope you don't decide to take Riften with it and I assure you that would prove very... disadvantageous for you." Aislinn raised a brow at her attitude. "Now back to where we were. I would propose getting some help from Whiterun. Dear Balgruuf is sitting on his sorry buttocks again, refusing to make a move on his own. It's about time we gave him a kick so I made a deal with your... friends," she gave a knowing look to Aislinn, "to send an agent to him. She should be able to persuade him to take action and send some troops to aid you. And one last thing," she turned her head to a door to her right and everybody's eyes followed.
The door opened, revealing a Dunmer man with long white hair dressed in purple robes with silver lining. He looked at the crowd with a pair of deep eyes shining in the color of rich orange. Aislinn noticed that they were literally shining, emitting the light on their own. "This is Marilis. He is a skilled mage capable of enchanting your weapons, protecting you and fighting as well. He also happens to be knowledgeable about the Thalmor and their equipment and strategies so I figured he might prove useful to you. Better there with you than here distracting everyone anyway," Maven snorted.
The Dunmer nodded to everyone and took a seat beside Marcus without speaking a word. The Nord shuddered a little, his back straightening with uneasiness. Aislinn tried to figure out if it was because his new neighbor was a Dunmer, because of his specialization, or his appearance. Or maybe a bit of everything.
"I think that should be all from my part," Maven waved her hand, letting out a tired sigh. "If you'll excuse me, I have a city to run. You do your job and devise a strategy to get the blasted city in our hands. We will talk when you return with the good news. If there is bad news, you don't have to bother returning at all."
Then she stood up and made her way to the throne in the upper part of the main hall.
Balgruuf the Greater was a man known for his independency. Yes, he had let the Imperial army in his own house and sent his own men to conquer Windhelm. But he would never have done it had he not found it beneficial for his people. Unlike his brother Hrongar, he was prudent, always considering all the possibilities, always balancing the welfare of his people and possible sacrifices. He was the man of wits and reason. Despite being a great warrior, he was never quick to fight, but even for him the Threat of the Thalmor overrunning his city seemed too dangerous to ignore. Whiterun had always stood proudly as the city of freedom and hope where everyone was treated equally. He did not care about the Empire, nor did he consider the Stormcloaks or the Thalmor his business. But if there was something threatening this peaceful place and its people, it had to be eliminated. He would not yield.
He budged up on his throne, his hand rubbing his blonde beard unconsciously as he turned his marble-blue eyes to a Khajiit courier who had just arrived in Dragonsreach and was now standing before him. It was a woman, although Balgruuf couldn't tell how he got to that conclusion seeing only her pointy-eared furry head and her armor. Unlike most of the Khajiit he'd met or heard of, her fur was pitch black, contrasting with her eyes of the same light blue color as the Jarl's. She was tall, slender and elegant, wearing a strange light armor of a dark green color similar to the color of a mountain lake. A black sarong with golden ornaments was tied around her waist, hiding her belt and everything that could have been attached to it. Until this moment, the Jarl would have never thought he would find a Khajiit attractive. This woman, however, was an embodiment of attractiveness.
"Greetings, my Jarl," she bowed elegantly. He voice was melodic and deep and Balgruuf gulped inadvertently the moment it rang in his ears. "My name is Farkhali and I bring you a message from Riften. The Dragonborn has taken over it and the Thalmor were driven out. The city is free again, Jarl Maven Black-Briar fully in control of it, and the people are asking for help in their new quest. It has been decided that the warriors of the Rift conquer Windhelm and free its people from the Thalmor threat."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Farkhali," Balgruuf nodded in her direction. "I am glad to hear the Dragonborn is safe and Skyrim still has hope. I have indeed heard rumors about the recent events in Riften but you're the first one to confirm them. I would be happy to send my men to their aid. However, organizing an army is not a simple matter. Many people have been gathering in Whiterun and my hold. People seeking refuge and offering services, people who lost their homes to the war. They are indeed a welcome addition to my forces but my land cannot provide them with enough necessities. We are running out of supplies, even without having to fight too much. To provide an entire army with all the equipment and food they need is impossible for me at the moment."
"I believe that can be arranged," she replied, her dispassionate expression even more underlining her attractiveness. "I am a member of the Khajiit caravans that roam Skyrim freely. The Thalmor have been trying to stop us, of course, but since they can never really track our movement and we know the land fairly well, they haven't met with much success. It takes one word and they will provide you with everything you need. Just give us two days, no more."
"How are you going to arrange everything in two days?" he asked in disbelief.
"Oh, we have our ways," she smiled mysteriously. "The Khajiit may not seem like much but they have the right to call Skyrim their own in a way."
"So," he said slowly, "what is your claim in this?"
"Claim?" she asked, barely displaying any confusion at all.
"I presume you won't do this for free," he said simply.
"You can discuss our claim with the Dragonborn and the Thieves Guild in Riften."
"The Thieves Guild? What do they have to do with this?"
"Except organizing the whole thing?" she chuckled silently. "Do not underestimate them, my Jarl. They will prove powerful allies for you. But do not worry, I'm sure someone from the Guild will contact you sooner or later."
Is she being... arrogant with me? Balgruuf thought to himself. He could barely concentrate on their conversation itself, not to mention the tone of her voice. She was somehow driving him mad.
"All right," he chewed slowly. "It sounds odd to accept the Thieves Guild as my allies... but out of respect for the Dragonborn I will work with you. Let us discuss what I need from you."
"I am sure I won't disappoint you, my Jarl," she replied quietly. He could feel shivers run down his spine.
The ghostly-green eyes were the only part visible of the small body of an Argonian woman crouching on top of Jorrvaskr's roof. She had the means to become almost invisible, her thin armor reflecting the colors and images from its surroundings. It was more like a second skin to her, allowing her nimble body to move swiftly and quietly. Her eyes were fixed on the entrance to Dragonsreach, waiting for the young Khajiit woman to come out. She had been tracking her for a day now, silently praising her for being the only one she found difficult to keep up with so far. This Khajiit had the ability to blend in shadows and disappear from her sight entirely. Given the sharp eyes of the pursuer, that must have been quite some skill.
She crawled a little to her right to avoid being spotted by a guard approaching the hall. She had a feeling he wouldn't have noticed her anyway, especially with that urn-like helmet on, but her cautious disposition didn't allow her to risk a single gaffe.
At last, after an hour or two of waiting, the door to Dragonsreach opened and she spotted her target walk from there. She waited, her eyes following the black-furred Khajiit attentively until she reached the gate leading to the city marketplace. Then she hopped over the walls and the tile roofs of the city houses and silently pursued her target to the city gate. Taking the longer route over the wall, she left the city and continued creeping in her footsteps. The tall Khajiit was at a disadvantage here. The plains around the city of Whiterun didn't allow her to blend in shadows, while the small and slender body of her pursuer could easily hide in the low bushes or just rely on her chameleon-like armor.
They continued to the northwest for what seemed like several hours. The last rays of sunlight had been long gone by the time they crossed the mountainous ridge which separated the Whiterun hold from the treacherous marshes of Hjaalmarch. Then, the Khajiit suddenly stopped at a crossing and waited. The sneaky Argonian crept to a pine tree behind her and watched her silently.
Another hour had passed when a group of four Khajiit approached her. She raised her head and exchanged greetings with them. The Argonian couldn't distinguish their features but she was sure that all the newcomers had lighter fur than the one she had been following. And two of them were male.
"Ri'saad," the dark-furred Khajiit whispered. "Glad to see you doing well even in these times."
"Farkhali," one of the newcomers nodded. "Still as beautiful as ever." An older male, well-built but not so well-trained. His movements were confident, his voice more so. Apparently the leader of the group. A merchant. Probably not just that.
"I have a request from the Jarl of Whiterun," she explained briefly.
"So it has come to this at last? Not just the thieves anymore?"
"You'll get what you want soon enough. But first we have to take care of our uninvited guests."
The merchant nodded. "So, what is it?"
"The list is here," she gave him a tube with a piece of paper rolled up inside. "Two days, Ri'saad. They will meet you at the place where the White River crosses the border of Eastmarch at sunset. I have to go now and head back to Riften. Eyes open, walk with the shadows."
"Be seeing you, Fark. Travel safely."
The dark-furred Khajiit nodded them farewell and turned into a mere shadow, soon invisible to all of them, making it impossible to tell which way she had taken. The Argonian waited a little and then followed the merchant group a mile to the west. A cave entrance appeared before them. By the time they reached it, she pulled a dagger out of her shoe and a small wand out of the other. She waved it, making the caravan members waver in sudden paralysis. They gasped when a wave of pain took over their bodies, Ri'saad being the only one capable of holding up against a series of quick stabs coming from the Argonian when she suddenly attacked with her dagger.
"Not bad," she hissed with a sly grimace, "but not good enough."
She put her wand back in her shoe swiftly and danced around Ri'saad, her body moving so fast that he could not locate it. He tried to resist, raising his steel sword against her, but she avoided it skillfully and made her way behind his back. Then she raised her hand and pressed her fingers against a number of points on his body in a lightning-fast sequence. She watched his body stiffen and fall to the ground.
"So," she smiled cunningly. "Two days, sunset, White River and Eastmarch border crossing. That's good to know."
Despite him not being able to move, she could see the horror spread in Ri'saad's body. She enjoyed the feeling thoroughly.
"Let us go," she said quietly. "Be grateful, my dear Khajiit, for I find you worthy and you will have the honor to serve as our great master's vessel. For now."
With that, she lifted his body as if it was a piece of paper, put it around her shoulders and walked away, a triumphant smile forming on her lips.
It was about time I introduced some new characters in the story. And I think it's nice that I can work with more races now. A friend of mine actually thinks it's pretty racist that she cannot marry a Khajiit in the game. Since I prefer humans myself, I couldn't really tell, but now I think she's got a point. That said, I didn't put Khajiit there in order not to be racist, they just happen to be the dealers and fences in the actual game. As for the Argonian - it worked quite well for me that the Argonians have stealth bonuses in the game. I find them intriguing and cool so I hope you do too. :)
Just to inform you - I changed the first chapters of the story to make them a bit smoother and better readable. Still, the changes are not too radical, most of the text remains untouched and I just added some descriptions and such so you don't have to read them again. Hopefully the potential new readers will appreciate this.
And I have another recommendation! I read the first chapter of a story called Twists and Turns written by Parsee. I'm not good at comedy and I admire pretty much anyone who can write the stuff but this is just freaking hilarious and I found myself ROFLing so many times while reading just that one chapter. I'm still waiting for the second one but if it's this good it'll be worth the waiting. Go and try it. :D
Mirwen