Chapter 36: The Thief Who Seized a Thief
"Ardy! Hey, Ardy!" a sharp voice cut through the air like a razor through a piece of paper. A slightly immature voice of a young man, high pitched, vivid, rich in color and full of energy, sending vibrations through everything around, almost rippling the air with its intensity. "Someone just sneaked into the city!"
The man was running along the wall of Castle Bruma, his light brown hair waving around his head, directing his fast steps towards a Nord man in a dark, sleeveless leather jacket and a pair of trousers of the same material, both sticking to his body as though he was wearing a second skin. Along with the extensively studded tall boots rising along his calves and shins up to his knees, his attire seemed quite comfortable, allowing him to perform any kind of movement he wished while protecting him from cold and blade at the same time. His back straightened the moment he heard the voice behind him, and the whetstone he had been using to sharpen his dark dagger slowly ceased its spinning. A pair of attentive turquoise eyes rested on the newcomer for just a moment, a short lull before the Nord's eyebrows, black as coal just as his hair, knit together to form an almost perfect sharp pointed arrow.
"Well great, will you shut your gap now?" he snarled at the youngster hoarsely.
"But Ardy, are you listening to me?"
"Aye, I'm listening, you piece of looney daedroth! Someone sneaked into the city, awesome. Now go and shout it from the rooftops so everyone, including that person, knows it." The Nord failed to contain a snort, shaking his head so the two thin braids which he wore at the back of his head, far longer than the rest of his hair, fluttered around him wildly.
The young man took a step back and lowered his head in apology. "Sorry," he muttered, though there was no apparent repentance in the tone of his voice.
"So?" the Nord asked while wiping his dagger on his trousers. He raised the blade to his eye's level and admired the shining line of gold formed on its smooth surface by the rising sun, smacking his lips in satisfaction. "Who is it?"
"A woman. In a dress. I can't tell you more, I only caught a glimpse of her," the young man said, seating himself on a workbench, ignoring his companion's raised brow and his expensive raiment cloaking him in a veil of deep blue, lined at its rims with gold.
"A woman, okay. But in a dress? If I didn't know you, I'd say you've had your share of skooma."
"A knight would never—"
"…stoop to such lowly practices, of course," the Nord scoffed. "You and your knightly pride."
"You and your sneaking," the youngster returned, narrowing one eye and screwing his face to form a scornful grimace just for effect.
"Well, honor won't save your arse. Sneaking will."
"And it can get you into jail just as easily."
"Well then," the Nord said and sheathed the dagger carefully, attaching it to his waist while ignoring that last remark, "let's see what this lady in the dress wants here." A simple silver ring, apparently enchanted, glistened on his hand as he removed it from the hilt.
"You're going to just let her sneak around?"
"Dear Tye," the black-haired man smirked conspiratorially, placing his arm around the youngster's shoulders, "if we did it your way, we would never get the chance to unravel her real intentions. You need to let your prey think they're in absolute control of the situation until the very end. Remember you must know the ways of your enemy before striking."
"That seems cowardly and unjust," Tye grunted as his companion steered him towards a nook in the castle wall.
"Well, life is not fair, my friend," the Nord sighed with a feigned bitterness in his voice. "Now take this," he deposited a few vials of a dark swirling liquid from the depths of his pockets, "and follow me."
Tye took the flasks, turning one of them around in his hand carefully, his gaze following the viscous fluid rolling around lazily. "Please, tell me it's not what I think it is."
The smile on the Nord's face was bright and wide, his white teeth almost blinding to the helpless knight. "You better drain it in one go before you choke on it again."
The youngster groaned.
The two of them each downed a bottle in a few gulps, the younger one shaking in disgust. The Nord chuckled, watching the sour grimace on his friend's face as though he had just eaten a pickled netch. His face faded slowly until there was nothing more than slightly rippled air. They set out, the magical effect of the potion they had drunk muffling their footsteps. Careful not to collide with any passersby, which was not at all difficult as there weren't many, they sneaked through the main gate of the outer castle wall and found themselves on the massive stone ridge which loomed over the lower parts of the city. The Nord cast a quick detect life spell, revealing every presence within the radius of thousand feet as the ring on his finger vibrated with energy, amplifying the spell. His bright eyes scanned the myriad of glowing lights that appeared before him, studying their movement, calculating their location and exact position. He then nodded and decided to follow the light that moved slightly faster and less confidently than the others in the city, currently roaming the area behind the Great Chapel of Talos.
"I think I found her," he breathed to his companion and nudged his forearm lightly, leading him down the stone steps which descended from the ledge.
"How?" Tye asked, failing to conceal the amazement in his voice.
"Oh, I have my ways," he snickered mysteriously.
"I guess spotting details has always been your strong point," Tye whispered reverently.
"While yours is looking at the big picture," the Nord said, patting his friend on the shoulder.
Upon entering the second lowest part of Bruma, right by the massive walls protecting the city, both of them took another sip of the magical potion and proceeded among the many wooden houses which cast elongated shadows on the ground. The night had been rough, but both of them reveled in the following morning, when the breeze was cold and refreshing and the rising sun dyed the timbers of the houses warm gold. Their prey was currently circling one of the shacks behind the chapel as though she was studying the place.
Which might as well be the case, the Nord thought to himself.
The two of them quickly passed the former building of the Mages Guild, now reconstructed and serving as new headquarters to the Synod (not that the Nords of Bruma welcomed the curious, secretive group of mages), and the Fighters Guild, which had turned into a huge tavern where everyone would meet in the evening and chatter about their day or brawl with the local warriors and thugs. The grand building of the Great Chapel of Talos emerged before them with its shattered windows, dark stains covering a considerable part of it, as though it was partially built in brimstone. The recent battles with the sieging Thalmor took their toll on Bruma. Fortunately, the citizens were not ready to give up, with him and Tye being no exceptions.
They rounded the chapel and the scorched remains of the shack right behind it, with singed logs and beams sticking up like large prickles waiting for someone to fall from the sky only to become a pincushion. One more gulp of the potion and the two of them found themselves on a small plaza where the road through the city circled the shack and the chapel. On the other side of it, a continuous line of small houses spanned along it, and a few people were gathered there, having a conversation about recent events. The Nord recognized Brelog, the local drunk, and Alma, an elderly woman whose tales never got boring, but people rarely believed any of them were true. Another person joined them instantly, Jarreth, the only Dunmer in the city. And in between two shacks on the other side of the road, a person was hiding, listening to their chattering.
"I'm… tellin' ya," Brelog mumbled, "they're gonna come right back at us. The stinkin' pointy ears're gonna come back." The dark elf grimaced at the expression 'pointy ears'.
"Well, even a troll could figure that out," Jarreth sneered. "They have all Cyrodiil under their thumb. And not just Cyrodiil."
"The question is, what are we gonna do?" Alma asked, looking more at the freshly arrived Jarreth than the slightly rounded Brelog who kept rubbing his semi-bald head and bouncing back and forth. "I heard a tale, you know…"
"Oh, not another one…"
"…about dragons. It seems there's a dragon war up in Skyrim, claws against claws, fire on ice and ice on fire. They create storms and whirlwinds and once you get caught up in one of their fights, chances of survival are close to none. Do you think they're gonna come here too? Can a dragon be tamed and used to fight against them?"
"Sure, I can… hic… tame a dragon, haha…"
"Tame a dragon? I don't think so. And if there is someone who can, it's the one person that I'm sure will never visit Cyrodiil."
"Ah, Skyrim has it so easy," Alma whined and scratched her chin. "And they never send anyone to…"
"Well, the borders are closed, they can't really do anything."
"Oh, there have been refugees, all right? We have'em right here in the city. And I'm sure more will come. But what do they do? Drink our mead…"
"Meeaaaad!"
"…eat our supplies and that's about it. Skyrim is our homeland my arse. Bruma is a part of Cyrodiil, and for Cyrodiil we fight!"
Tye clenched his fists slightly. The Nord turned to him for a split second. Although he could not see his friend, he was quite sure about that movement of his, given the topic of the conversation they were listening to.
"Oh come on, you don't even know them…"
"Exactly! They barely show their faces! No one remembers them, really, except for Arika, that herbalist…"
There was a movement deep in the shadows. The Nord knew that their target set out and tugged at his friend's sleeve to lead him around the chapel. The intruder rounded a few houses and then walked into the light, turning towards the main gate. That was good. It meant she felt safe, and that gave the two stalkers a chance to learn something about her.
The Nord took a look at her. It was an Imperial woman of average height with broad shoulders, short, chestnut colored hair and—
"Golden eyes!" Tye whispered in astonishment. "She has golden eyes!"
"I guess…" the Nord murmured.
"You guess? I've never seen anyone like that! I mean… the elves sometimes have amber eyes, but this… look at them, they're… different."
"Aye, but who knows. Maybe she's using magic to change her appearance. Nothing can surprise me these days."
"True… but you have to admit she's got style."
"What?"
"She looks damn good."
"Oh gods, not this."
"And she's got a warrior's stance."
"Warrior? No way, look at the way she walks, the consciousness in her movements and the way she looks around. She's definitely a thief."
"Nonsense," Tye argued heatedly. "Just look at her. She looks like she's used to carrying a sword. The way her back is bent, the way she carries herself, it all points to her warrior nature."
"Well," the Nord chuckled, "one thing is for sure. That dress definitely doesn't suit her."
"What do you mean? She looks… well, she would look stunning if it weren't apparent she spent a lot of time in that storm."
"That's not what I mean," the Nord shook his head, ignoring the fact that his companion could not see him. "But I'm sure you agree that she's not used to wearing such clothes."
"You got a point there."
"Let's see what she's going to do now," the Nord breathed and sipped the potion again. He pulled his friend with him around the chapel, carefully tailing the woman in sight. She stopped for a brief moment and looked around. For a split second, it seemed as though her gaze settled right at the invisible pair of stalkers, but she turned around the next moment and proceeded along the line of low wooden buildings on her right, walking all the way until its end. A worn signboard on the last house announced a tavern called Daren's Tap'n'Tack. She paused to scrutinize the building and then grabbed the door handle.
"Wait," Tye turned to his companion, "is she really entering Tap'n'Tack?"
"Ah, this will be interesting," the Nord grinned mischievously and hurried to the window on the left side of the building. Just as he peeked through it, his eyes accommodating to the dim light inside, a sound of shattered glass cut through the air and he felt Tye cringe beside him.
"Still the same, huh," Tye breathed.
"Get out, filth, whoever you are!" a rough voice yelled. The newcomer backed away slightly and dodged a mug which came flying at her direction right after the glass. She raised her hands defensively.
"All right, all right," she murmured, "sorry for bothering you."
"You're sorry?! Tell that to my wife! And my children!"
"Well, I…" the woman stammered, unsure of how she should react to that, but the man before her, a Nord with unwashed wheat colored hair knotted in a number of disheveled tangles, clad only in a stained pair of trousers, did not even seem to notice.
"You all come and say sorry, you all have your perfect lives and your mead and all the world is at the palm of your hand. And where is my family? Eh?! I'll tell you where! Dead! They're all dead and this is all I have left!" The man threw his hands up in the air. "I ain't serving you pigs any more mead! You couldn't protect my family, I owe you nothing at all!"
The observing Nord beneath the window sighed and shook his head, but then he watched with interest as the woman facing the broken bartender straightened her back and her expression hardened.
"Fine," she said, her voice considerably calmer than just a few seconds before. "I take it back."
"What now?!"
"I take it back. I'm not sorry. I shouldn't feel sorry for such a loser anyway."
"What did you just—"
"Loser. I called you a loser. What should I call someone who can't even go out there and show the people who killed his own family their place? Yeah, you can go ahead and drown yourself in sorrow. I won't stop you. I'll leave it to your poor wife to chase you out of Sovngarde herself."
With that, the woman walked away, leaving the shocked man stare at the empty space before him.
"That was awesome," Tye grinned.
"Can't argue with that," the Nord chuckled.
They watched her leave, snorting silently as the door snapped shut behind her. She paused for a moment and looked around, turning her head towards the chapel, then to the buildings on the other side of the road spanning from the main gate up to the castle, and finally her attention fixed on the castle itself. The two observers could almost feel her thinking, considering the possibilities. At last, she took a step forward, to the southern part of the city, but the door behind her suddenly flew open and in it stood the broken Nord who, at that moment, did not appear broken at all. There was a spark in his eyes which had not been there before, and he called to the woman with sudden vigor in his voice.
"Wait, stranger!"
"He got out of his house," Tye whispered in astounded.
"Indeed." The Nord's smile was almost tangible.
The woman looked over her shoulder with a single eyebrow raised in question.
"Tonight at the Guildhall!" the man called to her. "Fight me! Just you, I and our fists."
She gave him a slightly timid smile. "I'm afraid I must be on my way then."
"On your way? Where?"
"Who knows," she uttered mysteriously.
"Traveling is prohibited…"
"That's too bad," she said with a shrug.
"The elves guard the roads."
"Then I'll just have to avoid the roads, won't I?"
"Ah, what a drag… I think I could help you there."
"For someone who's lost his family recently, you sure are trustful towards a stranger."
"No friend of the Thalmor would say those words to me. Not even the locals did."
The woman smiled slightly and finally walked back, closer to the man. She leaned to him and whispered something in his ear. The man widened his eyes, looking slightly alarmed.
"You… you won't be able to get there," he whispered hoarsely, leading his new companion back to the house again, and the two stalkers had to strain their ears to catch the conversation. "The city's overflowing with elves. They took everything they could, hold the Council hostage, destroyed the temple. No one will ever set foot in the White-Gold Tower again." He opened the door and held it for his guest. She nodded and entered.
"Then what about…" the door snapped after them and then there was silence.
"Oblivion take it," the Nord cursed. "It was starting to get interesting."
"At least we know she's not with the Dominion," Tye said.
"No, we don't. Daren's way too gullible."
"You're way too paranoid."
"You can never be too careful." The potion wore off and the Nord's slightly bent figure appeared before Tye, just as he did before his friend. "Say, how did she sneak in?"
"She got past the patrolling guard who went out to check on the situation."
"Wait, seriously? I trained those guys myself!"
"Maybe he was careless…"
"No, that's impossible. The extent of her skill is becoming scary."
"I still think you're overestimating her…"
"And you're too gullible yourself."
"Hey! Don't vent your frustration on me!" Tye grunted, puckering his eyebrows. "It's not my fault Daren decided to help her."
"I know," the Nord sighed. "I'm just really uneasy. I don't want history to repeat itself."
"History always repeats itself," Tye said, patting his friend on the back.
"Aye, but it'd be nice if it wasn't now."
"Since when are you so concerned about other people's wellbeing, my friend?" Tye laughed, but it was a bitter laugh, full of sympathy and concern.
"I always was," the Nord snorted. They both laughed. Tye raised a brow when he saw his companion suddenly grinned at him.
"What?"
"Do you know what my strong point is?"
"Which one?"
The Nord chuckled. "The one that will always get me where I want." He winked conspiratorially.
"Oh no," Tye said with feigned terror in his face.
Aislinn's eyes roamed around the place endlessly, scrutinizing every piece of furniture, the dusty flagons and bowls, the pieces of cloth which lay scattered disorderly throughout the room, the dark corners covered in cobwebs… everything seemed as though it had been put there some months ago and had not been touched ever since. After all, even the local owner seemed somehow as a living corpse, though his eyes had livened up ever since her little display of indifference. She had asked herself whether it wasn't too cruel for a man who had just lost everything, but it seemed he had already answered that question.
"I'm… I'm sorry, this place is a mess," the man said nervously. "I haven't really tended to it lately."
Aislinn shrugged. "I don't mind. If mess was lethal, I'd have died a long time ago."
The man chuckled. "My name is Daren," he stretched out his hand. "Pleased to meet you."
She accepted the hand and gripped it tightly. "Lynn," she lied, scolding herself inwardly for not coming up with a better name for herself. Truth be told, she had not thought about it before, so she had to think it up on the spot. A mistake on her part. "Nice to meet you too."
"You asked me about the Moth Priests," Daren said, seating himself on one of the chairs while beckoning to another. Aislinn nodded but did not follow. "Well, I don't have to be a rumor-gathering bartender to know that there are no Elder Scrolls in the White-Gold Tower anymore. I thought it was common knowledge, to be honest."
"I don't need an Elder Scroll," Aislinn shook her head. "I just need a Moth Priest."
"But the only thing they're good for is…"
"I know what they're good for. I still need the priest. It doesn't matter what I need him for."
Daren watched her for a while before nodding slowly in understanding.
"Say, you don't, by any chance, happen to know where I could obtain a detailed map of the Imperial City?" Aislinn asked. "A recent one, that is."
"A map, you say? Well, I don't have one, but I think I know someone who might. Or who could draw you one, at least. He has it all in his head. I don't think he'll give it for free, though."
"I have money."
"Really?" the bartender tilted his head to the side and his eyes scanned Aislinn from top to bottom, narrowing doubtfully.
"Let's just say I left my things at a safe place. And no, you won't find any kind of journal on me, so I don't think there's any point killing me in order to learn where I keep them."
Daren laughed. "But well, you know, money has little value in times of war. I'm not sure if that person will want money for payment."
"What will he want then?"
"Let's go ask him, shall we?"
Aislinn nodded and watched the Nord rise from his seat again.
"Let me just find some better clothes so I don't look like a scarecrow," he said and disappeared behind a door on the right side of the room. A while after he reappeared in a clean set of leather trousers and a blindingly white shirt which contrasted his hastily washed face, red from recent scrubbing, and his tangled hair which he had apparently tried to tame without much success. Aislinn could not suppress a slight smile at the change. Who could have expected that behind that mask of dirt and sorrow would be hiding such a handsome man.
They exited the house with Daren in the lead, treading towards the stone steps leading to the castle. Aislinn gave a long, pensive look to the damaged Great Chapel of Talos. It was a magnificent piece of architecture with its great pilasters and pillars supporting the building, the latter connected by a series of arcs, seemingly too fragile to withstand a stronger gust of wind, and yet they had lasted for centuries. Its tall mosaic windows were inlaid with colored glass creating images of the Nine Divines. If a single settlement in Cyrodiil had architecture to which no building for the living in Skyrim could compare, what wonders awaited her in the Imperial City?
The man before her shifted nervously and she turned her head to look for the source. A pair of people standing nearby ceased their chattering, staring in surprise at the two of them. Aislinn opened her mouth to speak, but Daren was faster.
"I was expecting it," he told her. "I haven't come out for a month. Maybe more. But that doesn't mean I like the attention."
She nodded despite knowing that he could not see it, but then she noticed movement behind her. She knit her brows and sped up to catch up with her companion.
"What's in that house?" she asked, pointing to one of the bigger houses they had passed a while before. She used the moment to look around inconspicuously, scanning their surroundings for any suspicious motion. Was she paranoid? Just like before, she had a feeling she was being watched. It contradicted what the townsfolk were saying, that there were many refugees in the city and people were used to seeing unknown faces. Then again, if she had been spotted while sneaking into the city, and chances of that happening were quite high, she might have raised suspicion. Well, as long as it's not the Thalmor who are after her, she can deal with them. Hopefully.
"Oh, that?" Daren turned to her. "Best not mention it. The Synod had taken refuge there, reconstructing the building after the fall of the Mages Guild. They're arrogant and antisocial. The word 'friend' is not in their dictionary, they only work for their own benefit. Especially after the Emperor was assassinated, they secluded themselves, only tending to their research."
Arrogant and antisocial, Aislinn repeated inwardly, recollecting her experience in Mzulft. Yeah, that pretty much describes them.
They continued up the stairs, climbing from one stone ledge to another until they reached the castle walls surrounded by tents, mostly deserted.
"He should be around here," the Nord man said, "and if not, he's sure to arrive soo… hey, are you all right?"
Without answering, Aislinn turned around abruptly and a kick of her foot sent the invisible man before her flying to the ground. She instinctively grabbed his collar, pinning him to the ground, and waited for him to turn solid again. A startled squeal issued just a few feet from her and she squinted at the air in the direction where it had come from.
"Have you just tried to steal from me?" she hissed, staring as a figure of a dark-haired Nord with bright turquoise eyes materialized before her. She winced. He was the spitting image of Brynjolf, maybe just slightly more muscular and, of course, with different hairstyle.
"Me?" he asked innocently, wide smile curling on his lips. "Steal from you? Oh, no no no no no, this must be some kind of mistake. Right, Tye?" He threw a quick glance at the man standing slightly aloof. Aislinn looked at him with narrowed eyes and eyebrows still knitted closely together. An Imperial was standing there, dressed in expensive looking deep blue robes with golden lining, his round face framed by a wild mop of light brown hair. Under a pair of thin, cultivated brows, deep eyes of murky grey color like the skies before a storm glistened. These eyes too reminded Aislinn of someone, though she could not remember who exactly. The memory seemed somehow bitter and she felt a tug at her heart when she looked into them.
The man seemed fairly disconcerted, one moment looking at his companion, the other at Aislinn. "W-well…" was the only thing he managed to articulate.
"Ah, I was a fool to ask, traitor," the Nord snorted.
"Ardur!" Daren exclaimed, being the only one who seemed delighted with the situation. "There you are!"
Aislinn frowned. "Is this the one we're looking for?" she asked doubtfully.
"Sure is. Ardur, this is Lynn. Lynn, this is Ardur, our local fount of wisdom."
"Charmed," Ardur uttered gruffly. "Now if you would kindly let go of me so we can have a proper conversation…"
Aislinn rolled her eyes but stepped aside reluctantly. The dark haired Nord stood up and brushed the dirt from his arms and sleeveless leather armor. His eyes fixed on Aislinn, studying her attentively, and she could not help but squint back at him, comparing every detail of his body to Brynjolf. She was surprised how much she remembered of the red haired thief, how much she knew him. She could imagine every single wrinkle in his face, every hair of his and the exact shape of his eyes and mouth. He had scars on his cheeks, a bigger one on the left, a smaller one on the right, and his eyes were always distant and observant at the same time. This person seemed more easygoing, as though he was just sailing through the time, living his life to the fullest, but perhaps behind that mask of breeziness, there was a deeper emotion that was his drive.
The Dragonborn felt uneasy, wishing only to turn her back on this person, and she was sure he noticed it. His head tilted to the side and he curled his lips again, taking a step forward.
"So," he spoke and Aislinn exhaled deeply. At least his voice was not so similar, although his accent sounded a bit like Brynjolf's. "You had business with me?"
"This lady here wants a map of the Imperial City," Daren informed him.
"I'm not sure if I should trust someone who has just tried to rob me though," Aislinn said with a silent snort. Ardur returned it promptly.
"Well, that's good, because I don't trust people who appear out of nowhere, sneaking into the city past the guards who have received special training for situations like this."
"Oh, did I hurt your pride?" Aislinn asked with a sweet smile before she could suppress it. The man scowled, but Daren stepped in abruptly, waving his arms in panic.
"Come on, guys, be friends? Ardur, what will you ask of me for helping her? I owe her."
"I don't care," Ardur growled. "I don't help people I can't trust. So unless she proves herself, she's not going to receive any help from me."
"You're being a kid, Ardy," the Imperial said strictly, closing the distance between himself and his friend, and a corner of Aislinn's mouth inadvertently twitched when she heard his strangely childish voice speaking in such an adult manner. "Why would a Thalmor associate want a map of the Imperial city anyway?"
"You can never be too sure…"
"Ardur, please…"
"Ah, enough of this," Aislinn said with resignation. "I give up. Thank you anyway, Daren. You tried your best."
"But…"
"It's okay. I need to be on my way soon, there's no way I can 'prove myself' to anyone."
"Is that so?" Ardur drawled, drawing closer to Aislinn. "Well, that's too bad. No one leaves the city without me approving of it."
Aislinn frowned and felt her body tense up. "I kindly ask you to step out of my way," she whispered.
She could see him wince ever so slightly, but he quickly regained his firm stance and responded with a sneer. "And if I don't?"
"Then I might not ask so nicely again."
"You want to fight me, Milk Skin? No matter how I look at it, you're clearly at a disadvantage here."
"I—"
"Tye! Ardur!" a voice came from afar and everyone turned to see a man clad in a shinier version of the yellow Bruma heavy armor approaching their little group, catching his breath. "We're in trouble! Very, very serious trouble!"
Both Tye and Ardur furrowed their brows, the latter shifting on his feet nervously while the former just tilted his head, staring at the newcomer calmly in wait for the news. "Out with it, Somnir," he encouraged.
"The elves have returned," he rasped. The two addressed exchanged looks. "But that's not all. They have… by the Nine, I can't even say it…"
"Calm down," Ardur said slowly. "Just take a breath and tell us what happened."
The man nodded and inhaled deeply before continuing. "The scouts have spotted an army approaching the city. Not the largest army you can imagine, but they have something none of us could have expected."
"And that is?"
"A dragon." The man looked at the group helplessly.
"Wha—"
"What did you just say?" Aislinn breathed, her eyes widening in shock.
"I know it's unbelievable, but he was there. Large, winged beast with scales like shiny razors…"
"I guess that solves the problem then," she said through her teeth and let out a sigh. Ardur gave her a questioning look when she turned to him. "You don't have to worry. I'm going to prove myself to you soon enough."
New characters! A bunch of new characters, yay!
So… uff, to be honest, I don't really have the strength to write a proper note, so I'll pass this time. Life has been hard this past month and I've caught myself escaping into the land of Skyrim many times. Modded my game like crazy and just played… so I think it's a miracle this chapter is finished. Then again, I still enjoyed writing it so I hope you enjoyed reading it. New questions might arise around the new characters and setting, but everything will be explained, as always. I promise.
I'd like to thank dart0808 for helping me with this chapter. It was he who came up with "Milk Skin" and Somnir's name (you're going to learn more about Somnir later in the story).
I'd also like to thank you guys for your awesome reviews, favorites and follows. Don't you worry, Farkhali's tough, she's going to manage. And she'll most probably appear in the next chapter. ;)
So, I guess that's it for today. I hope to see more amazing reviews from you. And sorry I take so much time to update. Thanks for all your support!
Mirwen