"Get in there!" one of the guards exclaimed as he shoved Cura into a cell on the first floor.
The Breton stumbled forward from the momentum, and they closed the door behind her, and quickly locked it tight. "That's what you get for insulting a generous offer. Maybe the furry one can set you right." The Guard spun the key ring on his finger mockingly and then hung it on his belt and walked away.
Cura was in utter disbelief. Not one hour in this city, and she was arrested for not committing a crime.
"Wait, you! It's you! You're alive?" A raspy, masculine voice came from behind her, catching Cura off-guard.
Quickly, the young Breton spun around. "Don't try anything, or you'll regret it!" She warned him as she backed into the cell door.
Then surprise caught Cura. It was a Khajiit, it would seem. Though, strangely enough, his fur was dark indigo blue, and he had clawed scars across his nose and right eye.
The cat looked at her, bewildered, but seemingly relieved for some reason. Him and her, both.
"No, no. My intention is not to try anything, friend. I mean you no harm... at least, not this time." the blue Khajiit waved his hands reassuringly.
"What are you talking about, 'this time?'" Cura raised an eyebrow as she walked over to the cell wall across from him. "Do you work for the Thieves, or those nasty Black-Briars?"
"When speaking of the Black-Briars, only one thought should spring to mind. We are not to be trifled with. Help us, you end up rich. Cross us and you'll end up a memory." A voice came from the cell next to them.
"Excuse me?" Cura asked. She leaned out of the prison bars slightly to attempt to find the man in the next cell.
He stepped forward as well, and poked his face out, and looked at Cura. The balding young man with a black boater's demeanor changed quickly from hostile to suave. "Well, well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes? I've always got time for lovely ladies."
"Sibbi Black-Briar." Cura deduced from his interjection, and by what Mjoll had told her.
"Ignore this one." the Khajiit told Cura. "He is the lowest of lifeforms. Coming from me, that is saying something."
"Shut up, Cat, or I'll have you turned into a coat!" Sibbi threatened.
From what Cura could see at her limited angle, he had a nicer looking cell than the others. She could see a wardrobe, a large rug, full size bed, endtables, bookshelves, and fresh food on the table against the wall, and she figured that it was most likely the request of Maven Black-Briar. She couldn't let her son actually be punished like normal people, now, could she?
"Like you did to the Wulfur fellow?" Inigo scoffed. "Enjoy your eight months." he walked over to the opposite side of the cell.
"The stories of that are exaggerated!" Sibbi protested.
"What happened, then?" Cura asked. She may as well hear a story or two if she's going to be forced to stay here.
"Look, we all have our flaws; mine is that women can't get enough of me." Sibbi boasted like a peacock unawares. Thankfully, he couldn't see Cura rolling her eyes on the other side of the wall.
He continued. "I had this little affair going on while I was betrothed to a beautiful girl named Svidi. Well, she finds out and she tells her brother, Wulfur. Then her brother attacks me with a knife... I mean, I had to defend myself!" Sibbi excused himself.
"So, you committed adultery, and then killed your fiancee's brother in self-defense. How nice." Cura spoke sarcastically as she picked dirt from under her nails. "And you got eight months for that?"
"Mother thought I should be taught a lesson for airing the family's dirty laundry in public. I mean, I've... taken care of many people for her in the past. What in Oblivion did she expect me to do?" Sibbi shrugged callously. "Ah well. At least I have all the comforts of home during my stay. Well, except the touch of a woman of course."
"I told you. He is a lowlife." the Khajiit lay on his haystack against the wall and rested his hands behind his head as he gazed up at the ceiling.
"Well... what he did was low, but the brother didn't have to go to those lengths, either." Cura stated. "Even if he were angry about the adultery."
"Exactly! And now I have to stare at these bars for eight months. Can you believe it? I was about to let that wench marry into the richest family in Riften, and this is how she repays me." Sibbi punched the bars angrily. "I'd do anything to have that whore's head on a platter. All I need to know is where she is."
A moment of silence passed, before he did the predictable thing. "Say... you won't be in here for too long, right? Maybe you can be my eyes and ears out there."
"Not a chance in Oblivion." Cura refused outright. There was no way she would sell the poor girl out to this entitled monster, even if she knew who she was.
"Amusing." Sibbi spat as he slunk back into his cell. "When I find that bitch, I'll wring her little neck..." he mumbled to himself as he walked over and sat on his bed, Cura was disgusted by this man's attitude. He treated people like casual playthings. Were all the Black-Briars like this?
"So, do you remember me now?" the blue cat man asked Cura. "It is I, Inigo! Come to kill me at last, have you? Thank the Gods, I can bear the guilt no longer!" He sat up in his bed.
"Excuse me...?" Cura was confused by the sudden macabre, and quite inappropriate question. It seemed as though the two of them had their misunderstandings upon first meeting.
"I know I must die." Inigo unsheathed his claws and stood up, now that he had Cura's attention. "Beware, though; my newfound honour demands I defend myself."
Cura was taken aback by this spontaneous accusation. "Wait... do you know me?" Cura raised an eyebrow.
"I am in no mood for jokes!" the frightened Khajiit exclaimed. "Strike me down! Take your revenge!"
"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about." Cura spoke honestly, with a tad concern. "Who are you, exactly?"
"You don't remember? Ah, that is my fault also. I am your so-called friend, Inigo." The blue cat restated his name, as if it meant something to the befuddled Breton. "I was the one who killed you! ...Or tried, anyway. I am guilty! Kill me!"
Cura's mind flashed back to the various assassins and bandits who had attacked her since her journey began, but not one of them was a blue Khajiit. He must be in error. "I suppose you didn't do such a good job, then." Cura concluded. Perhaps he could have fired a stray arrow and then run away in panic. Though, she doubted it. "Why are you here?"
"After I shot you, I finally realized my mistake and tried to turn myself in." Inigo confessed as he scratched his chin in remembrance. "Your body was gone. The guards did not believe me. They said I was wasting their time. I had to pay them to put me in this cell!"
Cura glared at him suspiciously. He had to pay them to arrest him? To think she got that service for free.
"It's where I belong." Inigo continued to insist. "I needed to repent. I need to repent!" His voice raised in near-desperation.
Cura kind of pitied the Khajiit. It was clear that this ordeal left him consumed with guilt and shame. Perhaps there was more to it than that. "If you thought I was dead, then why are you here waiting for me, apparently?"
Inigo cleared his throat. "I heard tale of a remarkable adventurer, both brave and resourceful, matching your description."
"It was probably Keeper Carcette, in Whiterun." Cura scoffed. "Did they say 'blonde Breton wearing off-white violet robes carrying a blunt weapon"?" She laughed. "I am not very resourceful."
"I knew it was you." Inigo specified. "It had to be! I knew you would be coming for me, so I waited. Are you going to kill me or not?"
Cura was growing tired of this tirade. "Kill you for what? Nothing happened between us. And I don't just decide to kill people on request."
"I see that I must relive it again." Inigo rubbed his forehead. "Your memory is not what it was. We met on a job."
"What kind of job?" Cura asked, humouring him. This was asinine.
"The killing kind." Inigo's voice lifted with the thrill of the hunt. "We were hired by a lord called Dupan to kill his brothers."
Already Cura was becoming irritated. How could he not see that she was a Vigilant of Stendarr, not an assassin?
Oh, right.
Her Amulet was stolen.
She allowed him to carry on, while Sibbi eavesdropped with his ear to the wall next door.
"With them gone Dupan would inherit a great fortune and promised us much gold in return. Do you remember none of this?" Inigo asked.
Cura shook her head. "I'm not who you think I am." She protested.
"Before we left, Dupan told me if only one of us returned from our mission, that one would get the other's reward also." Inigo continued on, as if she knew what he was talking about. "I was hooked on Skooma at the time and I had a bit of a debt problem, so..."
Though she hadn't experienced it, Cura did not like where the story was going, as it was quite obvious by this point. Poor whoever the other person really was.
"You tried to kill me for my half, I suppose you're getting at?" Cura postulated.
"I tried. That is what matters. It was not an easy choice. We only knew each other for a short time, but I had grown to like and respect you." Inigo looked up to Cura from his sitting position on the hay.
She would be flattered, but a part of her knew that were it anyone else in this cell, they most likely would be getting this same diatribe. Guilt could make someone desperately delusional to protect their own mind.
"We got on well and fought bravely side by side. I threw all that away for gold and Skooma." Inigo covered his forehead in shame as he turned his gaze down to the floor.
"Well... did you get the promised reward?" Cura asked him out of curiosity.
"No. Dupan was murdered by his sister before I made it back to his Keep." Inigo stated with mild irritation, and Cura raised her face, ah'ing in response. Of course. "Our deal died with him." He clawed the hay under him when he recalled it. "Money is an evil like no other my friend. It is only just that I die at your hand."
"Greed is evil, Inigo." Cura specified. "If there were no money, people would kill for clothing and crops." She turned her attention to something more pressing. "Are you still addicted to Skooma?"
"No. I am done with the stuff. I want to die with my senses intact. Kill me now. I am ready." Inigo threw his arms open and stood up, almost ready to receive a blade in the chest.
Cura immediately shook her head. Even if she had a concealed blade, she would not use it on him. "No, you said you want to repent, right? Come with me, and I will help you do that."
"I fight with you?" Inigo looked back to her in shock.
"Yes, Inigo." Cura stated. "I could use your help on a quest I am undertaking. If you want to clear your conscience, it could be a good way to start, by helping me fight my enemies."
"Or die defending you! Yes! I accept!" Inigo quickly grabbed Cura's hand and shook it vicariously. "I feel lighter in my heart now you have given me this opportunity! It will be like old times."
Cura smirked. "Just watch where you aim your bow, that's all."
"Do not joke about such things my friends. The sadness I feel for what I have done is brutal enough... for now." Inigo scolded her lightheartedly.
Cura nodded. Perhaps it was too soon. "I apologize."
"And now we can be free of this cell." Inigo hurried over to the door and quickly took out a lockpick he had concealed in the back of his pants. Quickly, he opened the cell door, leaving Cura dumbstruck.
"Um... the Guards..." Cura pointed to the door down the hallway.
"I'm thinking the guards are all blind, deaf fools." Inigo stated aloud. "Don't worry. They didn't hear me say that." He reassured Cura, and sure enough the Guard who was sitting on the chair outside did not move and inch.
He was probably sleeping.
"Okay... well, I don't want to get in any more trouble than I'm already in." Cura stated, unimpressed.
Inigo headed back to the counter in the cell and picked up a bottle with a Dragonfly contained within. "Mr. Dragonfly, say hello to my friend."
Cura stared blankly at the insect. What was she getting herself into?
"Mr. Dragonfly is shy and frightened of almost everything." Inigo stated to Cura when it predictably did not respond. He placed it in his bag, which was leaning beneath the counter, and he pocketed his Journal.
"I think I'll wait here until I'm bailed out." Cura waved a hand.
Inigo grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out. "No, no, my friend! We have a lot to do! First we will raid the evidence chest.
Besides, you escaped by lockpick; rules are that if you make it outside, you go free, no questions asked."
"I've never been arrested before, but that sounds ridiculous!" Cura stated in disbelief. "As soon as we get outside the Guards will swarm us like Bees!"
"They will not." Inigo insisted. "They are too lazy. That is why this rule exists." He successfully picked the lock on the chest and pulled out a Hunting Bow, a quiver of Ebony arrows and some Riften Guard armour; only the cuirass and boots.
"You have a guard armour?" Cura questioned. "How do you... nevermind. I don't think I want to know."
"I stole it." Inigo stated plainly.
'Of course." Cura said as she found her Glass Shield and Elven mace in the chest.
"That is a cool-looking mace, my friend!" Inigo exclaimed. "I suppose I will have to behave myself from now on."
"Within reason." Cura stated. "Just don't go stealing from more Guards."
"No problem!" Inigo exclaimed. "Only civilians it is!"
Cura's jaw dropped. She quickly shook her head in disapproval.
"Heh heh heh, I am only kidding, my friend." Inigo laughed. He enjoyed getting a rise out of her, that much was obvious.
"So..." Cura began to fill him in. "my name is Cura. I come from the Pale, raised in the Vigil of Stendarr..."
"The Vigil of S'rendarr?" Inigo asked.
"Stendarr." Cura corrected him. "I am almost a Restoration Expert, I'd like to think. I am a master of the Mace and Shield, and I am the Dragonborn."
"So you're S'rendarr's Dragon, then?" Inigo asked.
"Stendarr's Dragon." Cura corrected again.
"You worship the runt of the litter." Inigo laughed. "S'rendarr, God of mercy."
Cura gave up. "Yes." She was unamused.
"Oh, I see! You are a Vigilant of S'rendarr!" Inigo realized. "Well, that explains the serious face."
"My face-" Cura was cut off when they heard the sounds of footprints approaching. Quickly she shuffled to the side, and ran straight into a Guard.
"Well, well. What do we have here?" he asked mockingly. "A naughty half-elf and a blue cat sneaking the halls."
"Hello, Mr. Guard." Inigo intercedes, walking in front of Cura. "This is my friend, who I killed."
The Guard fell silent as he looked them up and down. "Your friend paid your bail, but now I'm going to charge you 100 coins for attempted escape."
Cura clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Fine, here." She opened her satchel and counted 100 coins, put them in a bag, and promptly handed it over.
"Smart woman." the Guard said as he began to count the septims. "You're free to go. Enjoy your time in Riften."
"Oh, yes. It's been a blast so far!" Cura exclaimed snarkily as she hurried past the Guard.
Inigo giggled mischievously as he too hurried past him.
The Guard shrugged and returned to his day of doing nothing.
As soon as Cura reached the entrance door, it was flung open by Mjoll, and the impact caused Cura to fall backwards onto Inigo.
"Oh, no!" Mjoll exclaimed in shock. "Are you all right? I didn't expect you to be there!"
Cura's eyes were spinning, and her nose was broken to the right, and blood was spilling from it. Could the day get much worse?
The young Breton grabbed the tip of her nose and forced it back into place, accompanied with a Healing Spell. "Loving life." She spoke sardonically.
Inigo laughed in amusement. "Ha, ha! Always so clumsy, you were!"
"Who's the Cat, my Thane?" Lydia asked, gesturing towards Inigo.
Before Cura could say anything, he introduced himself. "I am Inigo the Brave! Archer extraordinaire, budding musician, and the most fun Khajiit you will ever meet."
"Yeah, sure. If I catch your hand in my pocket, I'll cut it off. Do you understand?" Lydia sneered at him. While she hadn't had issues with Khajiit, this one seemed untrustworthy to her.
"Lydia!" Cura exclaimed.
"Yes, yes. Fine." Inigo snubbed the Nord back. "There is no need to get your panties tied in a bunch."
Lydia's face curled in annoyance. "My Thane, please tell me you're not bringing him along."
Cura nodded. "He's volunteered to help."
Lydia lowered her head and groaned. Great. Now she had to watch two fools. Her Thane, and the annoying one who would probably try to rob her. "Ma'am, I have to protest. He doesn't seem at all trustworthy."
Inigo laughed. "I am here to stay!"
Mjoll finally got a word in. "You're welcome for bailing you out, by the way."
"Yes! Yes, thank you so much, Mjoll!" Cura exclaimed, taking her hand into her own. "You... really didn't have to do that..."
"I did." Mjoll reaffirmed her decision. "I knew you were innocent of the crimes they accused you of. That was simply the Thieves Guild sending you a Message, trying to threaten you. I am sick and tired of their antics."
"...And they stole my Amulet of Stendarr!" Cura exclaimed, furious. "I have to get it back! Where would they have taken it?"
"Into the Ratway, most like. Maybe the Ragged Flagon." Mjoll pondered.
"The... what, now?" Cura raised an eyebrow.
"The cistern beneath the city, past the Ratway." Mjoll stated. "I would have cleaned them out the old-fashioned way long ago, but it's too risky to go down there alone."
"Well, this time you won't be." Cura stated. "I will tear their hideout to pieces until I get back my Amulet!" The Dragonborn was sick with anger at the memory of the white-haired thief giving her the middle finger and pocketing her amulet. "That white-haired..."
"White-haired?" Lydia asked. She remembered seeing a white-haired woman leave the Bathhouse behind them after Cura was accosted.
"Vex" Inigo stated. "Of course it would be Vex. I'll bet Brynjolf put her up to it. Don't worry; I will get back your Amulet of S'rendarr, friend!"
"I want to speak to them directly." Cura narrowed her eyes, not wanting to know how Inigo knew them. "I have a score to settle."
"It could be dangerous." Mjoll stated. "They're not very organized, but the Guild easily outnumbered us, not including the other lowlives down there."
"I've fought Wolves, Stormcloaks, Dragons, Necromancers, Draugr, Dwemer Constructs, Saber Cats, Falmer, Bears, Trolls, Dark Brotherhood Assassins, Vampires, a Werewolf, Atronachs and more." Cura listed factually. "These petty thieves don't frighten me."
"All true." Lydia confirmed when Cura looked at her.
"Most impressive." Mjoll mused. "You and I are alike. We seek challenge and great fortune. But for me, that's where the similarities end. You see, Riften is my great beast to be slain and my fortune comes from gratitude and trust."
"Gratitude and trust make for sweet anodyne to disheartenment." Cura nodded.
"I do what I do in glory and service to Stendarr, and to bring as much happiness as possible in these bleak times. Regardless of what many may think."
"She was always a tough one, this one." Inigo stated, pointing at Cura, continuing the charade, as she saw it.
"To do it properly, I need my Amulet back, because without it, I..." she shivered as a child without their safety blanket. "...I need it back. If they destroy it... or sell it..."
"Onwards!" Inigo exclaimed as he ran down the stairs and down the boardwalk steps. He led the group down to the Ratway's gate, which was broken on one of its hinges, and he simply kicked it off. He then opened the door and led them into the dark, wet and dimly torchlit halls.
The stench in the Ratway was abominable; a mixture of feces and blood, as well as rot and body odour. It took everything in Lydia's power to stop herself from throwing up.
Cura tucked her face in her own robe's collar to breathe better. Inigo simply giggled through it.
"Yep. This is the Ratway." He chuckled as his eyes teared up. Having catlike senses, it was like a near-death experience for him.
"Got to love the roses and honey."
Mjoll was unmoved. She managed to completely block out the scents.
Further down the tunnel, the group could hear a couple of people talking, and decided to tread lightly.
The first man's voice became clearer as they began to close the distance. "I dunno, Drahff. They'd skin us alive if they knew we were doin' this."
Drahff, the second man, responded with a scoff. "Why are you always acting like such a big baby? I've gotten us this far."
The first man clapped back. "This far? We're livin' in a sewer. You said we'd have a house as big as the Black-Briars' by now."
Drahff dismissed him. "You worry about bashing people's heads in, I'll worry about the Guild. Okay?"
His friend sighed. "Okay, okay."
Drahff began to walk. "I'm going to check the entrance to the Ratway. Be right back."
The moment he turned the corner, Cura's mace met his forehead, knocking him into the floor.
"Drahff! No!" the other Thief pulled up his sword and lunged at Cura, only to have his face and chest plugged with three Ebony Arrows, right over Cura's left shoulder.
Cura turned around to see Inigo smirking. "Bullseye! Your existence has come to an end, you smelly pig."
"...Nice shot." Cura stated, impressed and horrified by how close the arrows were to her head and shoulder, and yet they skimmed by like nothing.
"Watch what you're doing, you stupid Cat!" Lydia shouted in frustration.
"Don't worry; I always meet my mark!" Inigo stated.
"Yes... so, why don't you lead?" Cura asked, inviting him to walk in front of her instead.
That, with his tale about shooting his ally made her a little bit uneasy.
"Um... sure!" Inigo obliged and headed out in front of the party.
"You know, a bandit tried to rob me on the road once. I think the poor man soiled his armour " Mjoll stated with a mischievous giggle at recollection.
Past the scheming assailants was a square-shaped room with a decrepit, filthy bed roll and a single piece of moldy bread between the bed roll and the right wall. On the floor opposite the bed roll was an iron mace. Inigo picked it up and showed it to Cura, but she rejected it and pointed out her superior Elven Mace. Inigo shrugged and left it there.
From there Mjoll pointed towards a raised bridge. The lever to lower the bridge happened to be on the other side, to their chagrin.
Lydia hopped down first to ensure that it was safe. She loomef around and quickly dispatched a lowlife who came running through the doorway with a knife.
After heading through the minor area, Mjoll opened a door past a minor corridor, when immediately she felt a pair of sharp, metallic teeth clamp down on her shins as she'd sprung a Bear Trap. "Gah!" She exclaimed in pained surprise.
Suddenly a large Imperial in a roughspun tunic with enchanted gloves came running out from the shadows. He swung for Mjoll, but she nimbly dodged it, even with her foot caught in a trap. She butted him in the stomach in return with her battleaxe's shaft.
Inigo ran forward and impaled the man through the chest with his Ebony sword. "You will torment the world with your existence no longer!" the sky cat exclaimed.
The Imperial hit the ground with a sound moan and began to bleed on the stone tiles.
Mjoll maneuvered her leg and gripped the Bear Trap by its jaws, and with barbaric strength, pried the rotten thing off her leg. She roared from the sudden shock that withered through her.
Cura and Lydia caught up, and Cura immediately fell into the Healer role, tending the bleeding wound with a spell.
"Phew. Thank you." Mjoll sighed with relief.
Cura nodded. "No problem." Then she headed forwards through the next area where there seemed to be a small garden with a woodcutter's axe embedded in a stump. A strange sight in the Ratway, to be sure. Even so.e Butterflies made their home there.
"Ooh, I wonder if they have Spiders here, too?" Inigo mused. "I love to squish them!"
"Why are you so weird?" Lydia asked him, irritatedly. "We're you dropped on your head as a baby or something?"
"Once. What's it to you?" Inigo responded, taking offense.
"I thought so." Lydia mumbled as she walked on ahead of the group.
Cura turned to Inigo. "I'm sorry about Lydia's snarky attitude. If it makes you feel any better, she's like that in general; it's not personal."
"I see. I suppose she just cannot handle the sight of such a dashing Khajiit such as I." Inigo beamed proudly.
They continued to a small room with a table with a copy of a book titled 'Beggar', a salt pile, a loaf of bread, and a drum. There were two tunnels to the north. The left-hand tunnel led to the raised bridge that the group had seen from the other side and its associated lever. Lydia wasted no time in running over to pull it and lower the bridge. Cura explored the next tunnel beside it, only to find a locked gate. Unfortunately she was not very skilled in the way of Lockpicking.
"The door to the east leads to The Ragged Flagon." Inigo pointed at the door ahead of him, across from the table.
Cura hurried up. "Good, let's go!" She hit her shield with her mace in furious anticipation. They'll learn not to mess with the Dragonborn.
Mjoll was ready, as well. She licked her teeth, ready for a fight. She liked Cura's fast pace, and could respect the Breton's fearlessness.
The group quickly headed through the door. As soon as they entered, Cura stood on the stone pathway. Looking around she saw four or five darkened, dirty alcoves, each containing wrecked barrels, crates, and disused furniture. She had difficulty making out most of it, as it was shrouded in darkness. The only lightsource were dim torches around.
Before them was a circular, but shallow pool, with a wooden deck opposite and the inn behind ot. Cura could see an Altmer in white and red robes reading a book as well as a Redguard woman impatiently counting coin at her table under a candle.
"Be careful not to fall in." Inigo warned Cura. "That water is far from clean."
"Noted. Thank you." Cura walked to the right and followed the path around to the right, and beyond the fifth alcove was a wooden bridge, near an inn sign hanging from a post on the right. The inn had three small tables and chairs arranged in front of the counter, where people laughed and gambled. The innkeeper was standing behind the counter and sweeping off his bar.
When Cura reached the Inn, she saw a mean-looking blonde Nord who she presumed was the inn's bouncer, talking to Brynjolf by the counter. As Cura approached, the brute quickly obstructed her path. When he got close enough, Cura could see that he was actually an Imperial, which surprised her, given his rugged look. Just another thug, She told herself. nothing to concern yourself with, Cura.
"Vekel doesn't like strangers snooping around the Flagon." The blonde man said in a threatening tone. "There's two things to do at the Flagon: spend coin and then get out. Last person who made trouble ended up with his head smashed in."
Cura rolled her eyes. Threats, threats, threats. Typical. She was growing tired of this sort of thing.
"They call me Dirge, 'cause I'm the last thing you hear before they put you in the ground. Why? You think it's funny or something?" The snarling Imperial got in Cura's face., daring her to say the wrong thing.
"Well, if I'm being put in the ground, I'm already dead, so I wouldn't hear the dirge anyways." Cura replied sarcastically, which caused Inigo to snort with laughter. "Now, move aside before you end up with your head smashed in." She gestured towards her mace with her hand on its hilt, daring him to try and attack.
"No, no. Sorry if I sounded so mean there. My brother always said I have a big mouth. Here, have one on me." Dirge slowly handed Cura a bottle of Mean, to maintain the peace. The Breton knocked it out of his hand. She wasn't here for a peace offering. She was here for her beloved Amulet back, and to try and shut the guild down for good.
As soon as Brynjolf saw Cura, he smiled and waved to her very cordially, culminating with a light clap of his hands. "Well, well, well, colour me impressed, Lass. I was beginning to think I'd never see you again."
"Don't you dare attempt to be friendly after what you've done!" Cura snapped as she readied herself for a battle. "I'm here to end this little game!"
"Reliable and headstrong? You're turning out to be quite the prize!" Brynjolf kept his nonchalant demeanor. "No need to burn the place down. Here." He wagged a finger, and the white-haired thief came out from the shadows.
The minute Cura saw her, she was ready for blood. The thief scoffed and opened a satchel and handed Cura back her Amulet of Stendarr, leaving the Vigilant both confused, and relieved. With an excited gasp, Cura quickly began to ogle it, when she saw the small inscription within the head of the drinking horn:
"Cura 4E 188-May the light of Stendarr guide your path."
Cura held it tightly in her grasp for a second, feeling a deep sense of nostalgia and relief upon its return. She turned to Inigo and Lydia, and explained her connection to it further. "Brother Adalvald gave this to me when I was young-when I first began my steps in the Order. I never want to be separated from it. Never again..." She spoke softly as she readjusted it around her neck.
"The only reason you're getting it back is because it's worthless." Vex, the white-haired thief sneered. "Delvin stated the inscription devalued it, so lucky you." Her tone was filled with smugness and venom, but Cura just brushed it off.
Delvin, an older, bald Breton sat over at the table across from them. "When you've been i' this business as long as I 'ave, you get to make these calls, eh?" Vex sneered at him from her side, and he only responded with a chuckle. "An Amulet's nice, forged wit' Bone Meal, it was; not very valuable to begin with. Also, what with the Vigilants all over the place, the Amulet's a pretty common object. Not worth sellin'."
Mjoll, however, was not so easily swayed. She pulled out her battleaxe, ready for blood. "When I was a child, my village was burned to the ground by bandits. Do you know I actually saw one laugh as he ran my brother through?" She looked at Cura as she said this. "I hate their lot. Not one honest bone in any of their bodies. Bandits. Thieves. They're all the same. Let's tear them to pieces!"
Cura's eyes widened when she heard Mjoll's story and declaration of war. "Mjoll... I'm sorry to hear that... but..."
"Now, now, Mjoll. We're unarmed. You attack us, you become a criminal yourself." Delvin warned.
Cura nodded. "I suppose that's why Dirge backed down. If he attacked first, then I could have slain the lot of you with impunity." Now that she was calmer, the Breton could see reason once more. She laid a hand on Mjoll's shoulder, as if to tell her to stop. "Mjoll, some other day. I've gotten my Amulet back. Someday they'll slip up, and then you can hack them to pieces. I don't want you to be imprisoned or killed for my sake."
"It's not just about you," Mjoll began. "they've been tormenting this city for the longest time. They need to go. But, I do see your point. I can't help the city behind bars,"
"You said you like to be paid in gratitude and trust." Cura reinformed her. "The people of Riften look to you as a trustworthy guardian. Don't let them spoil that."
"And what about you, lass?" Brynjolf scoffed at the sanctimonious Breton. "You were plumb prepared to murder us all, yourself."
"I'm not a symbol for the people in this city." Cura stated. "I'm a Vigilant of Stendarr."
"The God of Mercy." Vekel stated from behind the counter when Brynjolf raised an eyebrow. He clearly had no knowledge of the Divines.
"I could tell the Keeper that you lot were worshipping Nocturnal, or Mephala, or Boethiah." Cura stated. "It would be true, as you do their works."
Lydia looked at Cura a little concerned. What she was describing was blatantly lying to her own order; normally this would be outside her moral compass. Perhaps she was just bluffing.
"The only god we worship is the Septim." Brnjolf held up a coin and twirled it in the light.
Cura scoffed. "The next time any one of you sees fit to trifle with me, my prison sentence will be deserved. Are we clear?"
"Crystal." Delvin stated. "Are ya done now? Can I get back to me game?" He gestured to the deck of cards on the table.
Cura simply turned around to leave, but Brynjolf saw fit to say one more thing. "Oh, and lass? Next time you threaten or disrespect our guild, there may be an... unfortunate accident at your Vigil's Hall."
That did it. Cura immediately spun back around, approached Brynjolf directly, and knocked him backwards into the bar counter with a well-placed punch in the face.
As the other Guild Members stood up and readied their daggers in retaliation, Mjoll and Inigo prepared themselves for blood. In that moment, another figure entered the fray.
A Breton man with silver hair in a dark blue armour set emerged from the tunnel behind the table Delvin sat at. "What fresh Oblivion is this?" He snapped. "You're causing such a ruckus out here that nobody could possibly concentrate. You've probably woken up at least a thousand Draugr in the Province."
"Mercer Frey!" Brynjolf exclaimed as he wiped blood off his nose and slowly stood back up.
Mercer looked at Cura, then at Brynjolf. "Is this some kind of joke, Brynjolf? This little thing is giving you trouble?"
"Aye," Delvin cut in. "'e's been goin' outta 'is way to pester this'un since she arrived i' Riften." He waved a hand at Cura.
"She doesn't respect our Guild." Brynjolf stated. "I showed her a fraction of what we're capable of."
Mercer scoffed as he walked over to Cura. "She's a pretty face, I'll give her that." He stroked her cheek, causing Cura to move her face away from him in disgust. "...Which is why I'm going to let her go. We're Thieves, not Murderers. Guild reputation, and all that."
"You're going to 'let me go'?" Cura snapped. "Do you have any idea what you're dealing with?"
"You're not a threat... merely an annoyance." Mercer brushed her off. "Now leave before we decide to sic the Dark Brotherhood on you."
Cura had enough of this nonsense. Sic the Dark Brotherhood on her? If only they knew that they already had a target on her. "All I need to do is raise my voice, and this entire gig would be turned upside down." She headed backwards past Dirge, and out the door. Lydia hurried to catch up with her.
Inigo turned back to the Thieves. "Tonilia, you aren't accepting payment for these Riften Guard uniforms, are you?"
"Hit the road, Inigo." the Redguard woman snapped at him. "We already made it very clear that you're banned from our services after the incident with the Poisoned Apple."
Inigo clicked his tongue. "Ah, yes. That was my mistake. I mixed it up with the Golden Apple, you see."
The Thieves glared at him with pure ice, letting the Khajiit know that his privilege as a guest was wearing thin. Slowly he decided to back away and rejoin Cura outside the Ragged Flagon.
Mjoll. however, glared back at the Thieves, and gave them a gesture with her two fingers to her eyes and pointed to them, as if to say she was watching them before she too left the Cistern, but not before shoving Dirge into the water pool.
Mercer shrugged, and turned to Brynjolf, changing the subject and moving straight to business. "Brynjolf, have you had a chance to speak to our contact in Whiterun?"
Brynjolf pressed a cloth on his nose, to stop the bleeding. "Sorry Mercer, they no longer wish to be involved in our operation."
It did not take long for Mercer to grow irritated. "I trust you've applied the appropriate pressure in order to change their mind?"
Brynjolf nodded disappointedly. "I have. I think we may have to turn this one over to the Dark Brotherhood."
Mercer nodded as he took a bottle of mead from the Bar counter. "Yes, I'm afraid you're right. Such a shame..."
When the group left the Ratway, Lydia praised life itself to be able to breathe the rancid salty air of Riften city again.
Cura wanted to be out of the City as soon as possible. She had duties to attend to, for the Greybeards.
Mjoll placed a hand on Cura's shoulder. "My friend, I wanted to thank you."
"For what?" Cura asked, a little bewildered.
"For stopping me from breaking my moral code." Mjoll stated. "I had almost lost myself down there. I have... many an issue with Thieves, Bandits, and Criminals of all stripes."
"I understand." Cura stated. "After what those Bandits did to your family, feeling resentment for that sort of group is understandable. People who only see fit to take from others and ruin lives for their own personal gain disgust me, too. Many a Daedra worshipper will do the very same, though instead of stealing Money, they steal Souls, or innocence."
As the group continued to walk, a very miserable-looking middle-aged Nord woman with Raven hair and an orange set of Fine Clothes crossed their path, and nearly pushed Inigo out of her way. "When did they allow disgusting animals into this city?" She sneered, which prompted Inigo to quickly speak up.
"Maybe when they started allowing dogs to roam freely." Inigo chimed in with a chuckle.
Before the Raven-haired woman could retort, Mjoll quickly dived on her. "Maven. How's the criminal underworld treating you this fine day?"
The crone, now revealed to be the infamous Maven Black-Briar herself, sneered at her. "You may have everyone else impressed around here, but you don't impress me. You couldn't touch me if you wanted to."
Mjoll leaned forward. "You're a cold, unfeeling bitch."
Maven dismissed her with the wave of a hand. Her tone was as cold and icy as her gaze. "My dear, you have no idea who you're trifling with. Now I suggest you turn around and rattle someone else's cage before you get hurt."
Mjoll pointed at her threateningly. "I'm watching you, Maven Black-Briar. One day, you'll slip up and your Imperial friends won't be there to catch your fall."
"We'll see about that." Maven scoffed as she attempted to walk around Mjoll, and only ended up running into Cura. "I presume you're bothering me for a good reason?"
"Your name seems to carry a lot of weight around Riften." Cura stated. "Brazen as you are to talk down to and bully everyone you meet with impunity.."
"Of course. Nothing gets done without my approval in this city. I have the Jarl's ear, and the guards in my pocket. Anyone makes trouble for me and I pay a visit to the Thieves Guild. Make me angry and I contact the Dark Brotherhood. You'd do well to remember that next time you make such a stupid observation." Maven snarled at the inquisitive Breton as she shoved her way through the Human barricade,
"How did you become allied with the Thieves Guild?" Cura poked the sleeping bear once more.
"The Black-Briar family has always been allied with the Guild. Our connections with the Empire and within Skyrim make for a perfect fit. I dare say the Guild owes its survival as much to my family as it does to its own people." Maven bragged.
"So that's why Sibbi gets to lay in comfort in prison." Cura scoffed. "It's kind of impressive, really." She admitted. "The kind of pull you have in this city. Your tenacity is respectable, admirable, even."
Maven was silent. The compliments threw her off for a moment, but she simply wrote them off and continued heading towards Mistveil Keep.
"...Too bad it'll only get you so far." Cura mumbled. "All it would take, in theory, is a Stormcloak victory, and all her boasting about her Imperial connections would land her head on a spike."
Mjoll nodded. "But on the other hand, all it would take is an Imperial victory to see her as Jarl."
"I guess the Gods will decide what happens when the time comes." Cura stated. "Until then, best to beat back whatever Thieves you see about the city."
"So... you don't care about what happens to Riften?" Mjoll asked Cura, her face's expression falling.
Cura leaned backwards a little. "It's not that at all, Mjoll; I aim to protect all of Skyrim-first, I need to become powerful enough to do it."
Mjoll nodded. "I understand. Taking down an entire organization is no small feat. I have no doubts that you could already kill the lot of them, but Mercer Frey... there's something different about that rat... something dark."
"I felt it, too." Cura stated. "I'm willing to wager he's made a deal with a Daedric Prince."
The group headed towards the front gate, when a large, raven-haired Nord caught Cura from the side. "I don't know you. You in Riften lookin' for trouble?"
"Just passing through." Cura put it simply as she tried to continue on her way.
"Yeah? Well, I got news for you; there's nothing to see here. Last thing the Black-Briars need is some stranger stickin' their nose where it doesn't belong." He snarled at her.
Maven's little Lapdog.
"I could care less if Maven shaves her legs using calipers." Cura stated dryly. "I just want to leave this city."
"Oh. a Smartass, are we?" the large Nord left his post against the balcony pillar and walked right up to Cura. "Don't say something you'll regret. Last thing the Black-Briars need is some loudmouth tryin' to meddle in their affairs."
"Look, I respect Maven." Cura stated. "She's a powerful Lady with Highborn connections, and the power to bend an entire city around her finger. I'm just leaving the city now. Is that all right?"
"The Black-Briars have Riften in their pocket and the Thieves Guild watchin' their back, so keep your nose out of their business." The Nord warned her one last time, before introducing himself. "Me? I'm Maul. I watch the streets for 'em. If you need dirt on anythin', I'm your guy... but it'll cost you."
Cura pondered for a second. "Okay, I'll bite." She took out a coin purse with 80 coins in it. "What do you know concerning the Dark Brotherhood, and knowledge concerning the Thieves Guild?"
Maul smiled as he accepted the coin. "Pleasure doin' business with you." He was sure to pocket the coin first, and then he spoke. "The only thing I heard concerning the Brotherhood is a rumor that a boy named Aventus Aretino, in Windhelm, has been attempting to contact the Dark Brotherhood. He used to live here in Riften at the Orphanage on the other side of town but I think he ran away. Can't say I blame him."
Why would he run away from the Honorhall Orphanage? Wasn't Grelod a nice woman?
"And as for the Guild, are you kidding? My brother Dirge works in their hideout. I used to run with them myself, but took a job with Maven after they started hittin' a rough patch. If you want to get in on that action, find Brynjolf in the marketplace. I'm sure he could use someone like you." Maul's words were more ironic than he realized.
"I was hoping specifically about Mercer Frey." Cura scratched the back of her neck.
"That'll cost ya an extra 30 coins." Maul held out his hand to get his palm greased. Cura obliged. She wanted to know what she was dealing with.
"I'll even hand you another 30 if you can tell me about Astrid, the Leader of the Dark Brotherhood." Cura added in.
"You know about Astrid?" Maul questioned.
"Let's just say I'm not exactly clean myself..." Cura tried to appear a little more intimidating than she normally was, in order to persuade the thug, and to her surprise, it worked.
"Then we're speakin' the same language. Good. So what do you want to know?" Maul wanted the specifics.
"Mercer Frey. Who is he, exactly?" If she heard any small mention of Daedra worship, she would simply let the Vigil handle him.
"Why? You wanna... go out with him?" Maul looked her up and down, seeing clearly that she was a Manmer, like Frey. It was not an unreasonable assumption, as far as he could tell.
"Sure." Cura put it plainly, yet borderlining on sarcasm. "Just want to know a bit about him."
"Mercer Frey is the Breton leader of the Thieves Guild, but I'm sure you could tell just by looking, huh?" Maul snickered.
"And your Brother is an Imperial while you're a Nord." Inigo finally chimed in, from behind Cura. "A curious thing, that is."
"And it's none of your damned concern!" Maul snapped at the Khajiit, before turning back to Cura. "Mercer joined the Thieves Guild at some point during the leadership of the previous Guildmaster Gallus Desidenius. The man has little to no patience for anything, and walks around like he's got a broom stuck in his ass, if I'm gonna be honest. But, he's got a keen eye and great business sense. You should definitely go out with him. I think you'd get on quite well."
Mjoll herself shook her head, and then interjected. "Does he have anything to do with any Daedra?" The Nord woman asked on Cura's behalf, noticing that the Breton did not want to broach the subject directly.
"Well, only if you listen to fairy tales." Maul chuckled.
"What fairy tales?" Lydia asked, as well. She hadn't ever recalled hearing stories of a thief and a Daedra.
"Well, it's more a legend into scaring Padfoots into their proper place, but some could believe that Mercer is a Nightingale." Maul crossed his arms.
"A... songbird?" Cura raised an eyebrow. He had to mean the bird, otherwise it would make no sense. Unless she misheard "night-in-gale", referring to a midnight breeze, which could suit a Thief well.
"Here, because I like you, I'll give you this, for free." Maul reached into his pouch and took out a purple book, and handed it to Cura. The book was titled, 'Nightingales: Fact or Fiction?'
"Give it a read sometime." Maul told Cura.
"Thank you." Cura nodded humbly as she pocketed the book. She always desired to learn things; beneficial or useless; as all knowledge was useful in its own right. As Brother Adalvald used to say, 'A fool without knowledge walks blindly through the world, but a fool with knowledge blinds those who walk the world.'
"No problem. Now, about Astrid. If you wanna contact her, best to do the Black Sacrament." Maul informed her. "You know, the thing where..."
"...you stab a skeleton repeatedly within a circle of candles and pray to the Night Mother?" Cura asked. "I've heard of it before."
"There's more to it than that, but yeah." Maul confirmed. "But what to expect from Astrid? Well... she's the leader of the Dark Brotherhood in lower Skyrim, and wife of the Former Companion, Arnbjorn. Guess she's got a kink for Werewolves."
A Companion?
Interesting.
"Fascinating. Do go on." Cura ushered.
Maul smiled. "Astrid holds the responsibility of finding new recruits in the Night Mother's absence. Could be somethin' interesting for you to try."
"I don't think so." Lydia loudly objected, fearing for what this city was already doing to Cura.
"Hey, don't kmock it. Cute li'l Breton girls make for some of the best killers, like the one in Cyrodiil who poisoned her own Aunt. Who'd ever suspect it, right? Heard of that one a while back, heh." Maul chuckled.
Mjoll was disgusted.
"Is there anything else you can tell me about Astrid?" Cura asked.
"Nah, unfortunately I don't know when her birthday is." Maul cackled sarcastically. "But the closest kind of trivia I can give you is that she's tired of the laws and restrictions that limit the Brotherhood; the Five Tenets, and decided that a sort of family-like unity would benefit the members of the Brotherhood better than rigidity they had in past centuries. Whatever floats your boat, I guess."
"All right." Cura nodded, satisfied for now. "Thank you for the help, Maul. I'll be leaving, now." She gave him a polite nod of the head. She had gotten more information than she'd expected. Now at least she knows that their Sanctuary is in Southern Skyrim. Most likely in the forests somewhere near Falkreath.
"Be seein' you around." Maul said in a friendly manner as he left his post and headed out into the main city.
"I can't believe you did that." Lydia placed her hands on her hips. "You literally just paid a criminal for information."
"Information concerning my enemies." Cura informed her. "By Stendarr, do you think I would ever join those murderous assassins? No! Especially since they've been hunting me down for months!"
"Well, if you did join, they'd have to leave you alone, by the Five Tenets." Inigo stated matter-of-factly. "Never kill a Dark Brother or a Dark Sister. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis." He spoke in a low, and dark tone humorously.
"I'd rather follow the Ten Commands." Cura stated. "And besides, he said Astrid did away with the old rules. It probably would make no difference to her."
"Coming to this city was a mistake." Lydia kicked a wooden bucket into the canal. "I knew it. I knew, and she wouldn't listen to me! Now we'll have the Thieves Guild on us, too! You are impossible, My Thane! Why are you so self-destructive?"
"Because she is my Friend, heh heh!" Inigo said with a chuckle.
"So, Cura..." Mjoll stated independantly. "Earlier you said something to the Guild about raising your voice and turning the place upside-down. What did you mean by that?"
"She's Dragonborn." Lydia cut in. "She can use the Thu'um."
"The Thu'um! By Ysmir!" Mjoll exclaimed. "No... that's a joke. You're joking. She's joking, right?" She asked Cura as she pointed at Lydia.
Cura simply shook her head.
"You, a Dragonborn? Ha!" Mjoll began to laugh in disbelief. "A cute little Breton like yourself. Sure, sure. Next thing you know, I'll be the Jarl of Riften! Ha, ha, ha-"
"FUS RO!" Cura shouted upwards into the sky, alarming all around her, to prove her point to Mjoll.
"The Thu'um! She summons the Thu'um!" Mjoll exclaimed in surprise.
"Whoa-ho-ho-ho!" Inigo clapped his hands together. "I'd hate to get into an argument with you, my friend."
"Uh-oh..." Cura noticed a Riften guard leaving his post and heading her way. Was it illegal to Shout in the city? She'd think this crime-addled burg would be used to shouting by this point. The guard stopped in front of Cura, and cleared his throat.
"I need to ask you to stop. That... shouting... is making people nervous." The Guard chided her. Clearly, by 'people', he meant himself. "Can't say I've heard of any laws against... whatever that is you're doing. But I'll lock you up if I have to."
Cura nodded. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
" Good glad we straightened that out." The Guard breathed a sigh of relief and then walked over the bridge and returned to the wall of the Bee and Barb.
Cura hoped that this encounter would make the Guards think twice in the future about unjustly tossing her in prison.
"So... Dragonborn. Where does your journey take you?" Mjoll asked out of curiosity. Was she offering to come along?
"To Ustengrav." Cura told her plainly. "The Greybeards want me to retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. I'm a bit behind on that, given the drama I've encountered here in Riften."
"Incredible..." Mjoll mused, placing a finger under her lip in thought. "...to think I'd live long enough to meet the Legendary Dragonborn... do you need any help?"
Cura's eyes immediately lit up. "You're... you're offering?"
"Of course!" Mjoll exclaimed.
"What about Riften?" Lydia scoffed at the vigilante of criminal's paradise. "Aren't you supposed to stay here and help them?"
"If the Dragonborn is here, that means so is the Black Dragon." Mjoll explained. "As the Legends say, the world turns on the Last Dragonborn. If our friend here is the Dragonborn, and the Dragons are back, as we have seen, then that only means that the end of our world could very well be in sight. If I can help the Dragonborn grow in strength and lend my support to help put an end to such a threat, I will be doing a greater service to Riften than I ever could by doing as I was."
"This is only the beginning of my path." Cura told her. "And I will help the small people, as well. I can do both."
"Your resolve is admirable." Mjoll informed her. "You have a very different way of looking at the world, Cura. Never change."
"Yes, never change!" Inigo exclaimed as he pulled Cura into a hug and began to mousse her hair with his knuckles before letting her go. This caused Cura to irritatedly pull her hood back over her head.
"Look at us!" Inigo laughed as he pointed to Cura and himself. "A Breton and a Khajiit, conjuring up a better world for everyone!"
"And a couple of Nords." Lydia chimed in, pointing to herself and Mjoll. "We are in Skyrim, after all."
"And it is my absolute pleasure to do so." Mjoll leaned forward politely, and Aerin came running out of his house. It would seem he was eavesdropping there the whole time, with the front door slightly open enough for him to peek through.
"So it's true, isn't it?" Aerin spoke sadly. "Lady Mjoll, you are going to leave us."
"Aerin, there is a great threat on the horizon, closing in on us all; and it is not the Civil War itself." Mjoll explained.
"I know, it's just..." Aerin looked down at his shoes, and his face flushed. "I will miss you terribly."
"Aerin..." Mjoll slowly walked over to the small Imperial and laid a hand on his left arm. "I will return. I could never leave you, after all we've been through together. Keep me in your heart until I return, and I will."
"I couldn't bear the thought of something happening to you out in the world, but I should have known better." Aerin sighed. "I was being selfish. It's in your nature to explore, and I've just been trying to keep you tied here in this city, like I am."
"Aww." Cura mused. She could tell that Aerin's feelings for Mjoll extended further than those of friendship, and could see the same sentiment in Mjoll, as well. Though, she could relate to the situation, being that he described most of her life in Carcette's perspective.
"Could you forgive me?" Aerin looked up at the large Nord woman shyly.
Mjoll quickly pulled him into an embrace, lifting him up off the ground slightly. "Of course I'll forgive you, Aerin!" They embraced for a few moments before Mjoll slowly let him go. "You take care of yourself, and send me letters on the road until I come home. I will send you letters, as well." She informed him.
"We'll keep in touch?" Aerin's spirit was lifted by this.
"Of course!" Mjoll promised him.
Aerin walked up to Cura. "Don't let her do anything too reckless, okay? Please?"
Cura nodded. "I'll try, Aerin. I'll try. But I can't promise anything."
Aerin shrugged and then turned to his good friend. "Please, be careful, Lady Mjoll."
Mjoll smiled and waved to Aerin as the group headed out the front gate and surprised the City Guards who stood outside, for they hadn't even seen this group enter before.
Cura walked over to Joile and jumped atop him. She then gave a purse containing 1000 gold to the stable manager, to buy a Horse for Inigo and Mjoll to ride on.
"Hmm... well, this one's a beauty." Mjoll stated as she looked at a cream-coloured horse.
"Can I name him Rex?" Inigo asked her, to which Mjoll mused for a second.
"I think we should call him Tor." She looked then to Cura. "Cura, since you paid for him, what name do you think we should give?"
"Maybe we can toss a septim?" Cura suggested. "I think both Rex and Tor are cool names."
"Good idea!" Inigo exclaimed as he took a coin out of his pocket. "Okay... Tiber's face, Rex... Empire's Dragon Symbol, Tor. Are you ready, Mjoll?"
"Aye." Mjoll nodded.
Inigo placed the coin on his thumb as he closed his fist, and then he flicked it up into the air. He then caught it with his catlike reflexes and flipped it down onto his left palm. The result was in: Tiber Septim's face brazenly glared at Mjoll. "Rex it is! Hahaha!" Inigo laughed, and Mjoll waved her fist to the side in disappointment.
"Ah, well. Welcome to the party, Rex." Mjoll stated begrudgingly. She was certain that Inigo cheated, but could not prove it. She quickly hopped on the now-saddled beige horse, and Inigo hopped on behind her.
"Whoa, there!" Inigo exclaimed as the horse was mildly perturbed.
Mjoll gave Rex a gentle pat on the side of his neck. "Shh, shh. It's okay. Calm down." She gently soothed the equine.
"Ready?" Cura asked them.
"Ready!" Mjoll, Inigo, and Lydia replied in unison.
"All right, to Ustengrav we go, then!" Cura exclaimed excitedly. "Hyah!" She tossed the reins, and Joile began to move, and then Rex behind him.
As they headed down the beaten path, Cura began to feel something unlike anything she'd ever felt; confidence. Leaving that grimy city behind her, she could now focus on the task at hand this moment; she would retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, and begin her serious training with the Greybeards.
As well, she now had two new friends to join her and Lydia on the road; making the voyage much less lonesome. The Breton was curious to see how their relationships would form overtime, but she knew that Mjoll was dependable, and that Inigo would be a blast comically. With her head held up high, Cura took Joile off the beaten path, towards the Northwestern hillside, because she could.
The excitement was overwhelming. Was this what freedom felt like?
