It was cold and dark inside of Hjerim. The stale air rippled with the scent of blood, and Inigo nearly retched in disgust.

"Yes, this is the place, all right." Inigo grunted with a cough. "The cleanup team didn't seem to care."

"Aye," Mjoll confirmed solemnly. "they didn't even bother to wipe up the trail of blood. Lucky for us, then."

She followed the trail as Cura investigated overturned chairs and Lydia went upstairs.

Inigo followed the pungent odour of blood to a bedroom, but had issues determining where the concentrated iron scent was coming from.

The blood trail Mjoll tracked led to a chest in the southeastern corner of the main room and she, using a dagger and her own firm grip, pried it open.

"Eh? What's this?" Mjoll wondered as she saw at least eleven pamphlets with 'Beware the Butcher!' transcribed on them, along with a bloodstained Journal.

"What did you find?" Cura approached from the decrepit kitchen on the other side of the room, having turned up with nothing but rat feces on her gauntlet. She quickly disposed of that by wiping it on the nearby wooden pillar.

"Read this, and see." Mjoll handed her one of the pamphlets. Cura gingerly received it and read aloud:

"Beware the Butcher!

The killer who haunts the streets of Windhelm!

These calamitous times bring out the worst in people, don't become the next victim!

See Viola Giordano if you spot any suspicious behavior."

Cura scratched her chin. The killer tried to literally remove suspicion on himself by stashing away the town notices. Tactful, but how did nobody not notice someone removing posters from the walls of the city?

Mjoll then read the Journal aloud:

"The plans are coming together swimmingly. I've found good sources of bone, flesh, and blood, but thus far a good sampling of sinew and marrow have escaped me. No matter. The city is swollen with contemptuous fools who will be missed by nobody. Last night was almost able to corner Susanna as she left Candlehearth. Idiot guard showed up at just the wrong moment and I had to turn about, just out for a stroll, and so forth. There will be other chances, but the time is drawing near. I think back to my time in Winterhold. All the wasted minds up in their towers.

They only explore the magic they already know. I am discovering new magic here. Something deeper than the cantripped shenanigans of fire and light. This flesh magic is older than us. Perhaps older than the world itself. I am tugging at the corners of the fabric of the universe, and where it bunches and folds is where I shall create my greatest triumph. One more attempt at the Candlehearth girl. She's proving to be a bit too cautious, but those strong joints of hers should contain the most exquisite tendons. Worth the effort.

Tonight."

Chilling.

"First Fenrik and now this." Cura mumbled. "Maybe the Vigil had ought to investigate the College of Winterhold. Clearly there's something suspicious in those walls."

"Keep your mind here for now, Cura." Mjoll snapped her back into reality.

"Right, of course." Cura nodded.

Inigo ignored the mead bottles strewn about, scattered on the floor and followed the repulsive smells to the two wardrobes in the room he was in. He accidentally bumped into the one on the right and instinctively tried to catch it before it could fall, but it did not budge. Strange.

The wardrobe was nailed to the wall very conspicuously, so Inigo pried it open and discovered a false back panel. The smell became unbearable and it took more than a little willpower to open it. "Stay, Inigo. I stay. Fight, Inigo. I fight. Investigate a smelly disgusting murder home, Inigo. So much I do for a friend..."

He bemoaned Cura's nosiness and his offer to help her as he pushed open the panel to reveal the ghastly horrors beyond.

The smell of death was unleashed in full force, grabbing even Cura and Mjoll's attention, as they were on the same floor.

Inigo stood there, thunderstruck. The killer's hideout was lain before him: a room filled with bones, bloody remains and gnarled, hooked embalming instruments placed upon an altar.

"Inigo? Are you okay?" Cura saw how he was frozen in place.

"Ysmir's beard!" Mjoll pointed to the carnage in horror.

"I... I..." Inigo could not speak properly. "I... hate... this city. I will go outside for air." Inigo slunk with his shoulders hunched as he left the premises.

Cura's eyes widened as she entered the gore room with Mjoll. "Stendarr's mercy-all those bodies... how long has this been going on?"

"Too long." Mjoll spat in disgust. "It ends. Now. You had the right idea, putting a stop to this horror."

Cura went down on her knees amidst the corpses, and began to pray to Stendarr for the deceased in the room.

Mjoll angrily investigated the malfested altar and picked up another bloodsoaked Journal. More evidence of depravity. As soon as Cura stood up, Mjoll read aloud.

"17 tendons and assorted ligaments 173 fragments of bone for assemblage approx.

4 bucket-fulls of blood (Nord preferred)

6 spoons of marrow (no more than 2 from a thigh)

12 yards of flesh (before cutting)

star-scrying to the edge of the ice-mind

look to the lights where the souls dance

revealing the time when a spark will revive when the rotted unites under most skillful hands

(translation from Aldmer text, as interpreted by the Ayleids and first transcribed by Altmer. provenance and authority unknown)

soon"

"Never." Cura contradicted the journal. "Whatever it is you're planning, it will never come to fruition."

"My Thane, I found something strange!" Lydia called out from upstairs.

She came downstairs with a strange amulet with a jade stone in the center depicting a skull on it.

"Lydia, be careful!" Cura exclaimed. "That could be ceremonial to this horror!" She pointed to the corpses, which turned Lydia's stomach. She dropped the Amulet to the floor and covered her mouth and gagged.

"This may be the last piece of evidence, so make sure to pick it up." Mjoll stated. "Even if it could be cursed. Cura, you do it. You have Stendarr."

Cura nodded, and cleared her throat. "By authority of Stendarr, the God of Mercy, I declare this Amulet safe to be handled; may it's darkness remain trapped in itself forevermore."

She reached down and claimed the blasphemous pendant.

"What could it be, exactly?" Lydia wondered shakily.

"Nothing good." Cura stated as she shook her head. She ogled it in her hand and then held up her arm and allowed it to dangle on its string before her eyes. "But I think I know someone who could know something about it."

"We're not going back to the Hall of the Vigilant again, are we?" Lydia groaned.

"No. Calixto Carrium, I believe his name is." Cura stated. "An Imperial man here in Windhelm. He knows about occult curios, if what I overheard between him and Elda was true."

"Could be a good start." Mjoll nodded. "I'm going to talk to Viola Giordano."

"I'm going wherever you are, My Thane." Lydia nodded.

Cura agreed. "We'll meet in front of the Palace of Kings, and tell our findings to Jorleif."

"Then it's settled." Mjoll stated. "I'll tell Inigo." She headed outside first.

Cura and Lydia decided to go about the city and find this Calixto fellow, while Inigo had taken to the alleys.

Mjoll began showing the pamphlet to different civilians with mixed reactions.

"If the guards would listen to Viola, they'd have caught the Butcher by now." An Altmer woman snidely remarked.

"Did Viola send you to bother me?" a dark-haired Nord in fine blue robes asked, greatly annoyed. "That busybody Viola Giordano. She's got her nose in everyone's business."

Mjoll unknowingly showed it to Calixto, the man Cura was seeking. His response was quite harsh. "Oh, good, more of those. Did you know Viola Giordano wanted to put one of them on my front door? "Everyone will see it!" she said. Of course! That was my problem with it. If you want to ask her about them, good luck. But I'm not going near her."

After some time of being ignored, Mjoll became fed up. She wanted to know who this Viola woman was, but nobody cared to point her out.

Mjoll turned to a Guard. "Have you heard about the killer?" She was asking sarcastically, as the guards seemed very slow-moving for such extensive murders. She presented her Pamphlet to his face.

"Oof. Have you been talking to Viola Giordano? She posts those all over the city, and someone keeps taking them down. Ask her about it if you want an earful."

"Actually, I'm looking for her." Mjoll stated. "What does she look like?"

"Gray-haired Imperial woman. Shrill voice. You can't miss her." the Guard leaned back against the wall and lowered his head, seemingly trying to rest.

After some searching, Mjoll found a woman matching the description, and approached her.

"Be on the lookout. The Butcher could be around any corner!" the woman snapped, her voice as shrill as a whining Cat.

"Are you Viola Giordano?" Mjoll asked.

"Who's asking?" The woman became quickly defensive.

"Mjoll the Lioness, and the party looking to end the Butcher." Mjoll spoke with determination.

The woman looked on with suspicion at first, but relented. "Yes, I'm Viola Giordano. Sorry for being curt with you. After what happened to those other women, I'm worried about my own safety."

"I understand." Mjoll stated.

"Women murdered time and again, and all the guards care about is the war!" Viola exclaimed with outrage.

"What can you tell me about the Killer?" Mjoll asked.

"I've been following him for months now. Well, not actually following. Trying to find him. The guards won't help. The people won't help. I'm the only one who thinks he can be caught!" Viola waved her hands hysterically.

"Why don't most people seem to care?" Mjoll wondered.

"Oh, they care all right. Just none of them thinks to do anything about it." Viola became defensive against the shadows. "They say I'm just snooping around bothering people, but I'm trying to save lives!"

"As are we." Mjoll stated.

"The guards say they're too busy with the war - I say what good is winning a war if we're still terrorized by one of our own?" Viola complained.

Mjoll nodded. She took out the Pamphlet. "You've been doing quite the busywork trying to get the case noticed. They were stashed away in Hjerim, though."

"I've been trying to put those up around the city, to warn people. Have them keep their eyes open. But someone keeps taking them down. You say you found it in Hjerim?" Viola asked for confirmation, to which Mjoll nodded. Viola pursed her lips. "Friga's old place. Let's go have a look around there. I've got a feeling about this one."

"We've investigated already, and found these Journals." Mjoll presented the bloodstained Journals to Viola, who quickly put gloves on before touching the tainted literature.

After poring over the findings, Viola nodded and her nose curled in disgust. "Wuunferth. There have been rumors swirling about him for years. As long as I can remember. But he's a dangerous man. It's why they call him "the Unliving." I wouldn't approach him directly. This information needs to go straight to the steward. He'll listen to you."

As Mjoll was waking away, the dark-haired Nord in the blue outfit was passing by. She noticed the exasperated look on his face when he noticed Viola.

Viola waved him over excitedly. "Captain, captain!"

The Nord rubbed his brow, preparing for the oncoming headache. "What is it now, Viola?"

Viola pointed off in the direction of the alleys "Did you notice that the snow settles in a different direction near the murder sites?"

The Captain looked at her cross-eyed. "Don't you think all your tramping around there investigating might have something to do with it?"

Viola paused. "I... well. Perhaps. But still! It's curious."

"Get some rest." the Nord Captain tried to dismiss her, but she only caught him by the arm in return.

"Have you thought about my invitation?" Viola's tone sweetened.

The Captain clicked his tongue. "I've thought about it, but I'm not sure it's such a good idea."

Viola opened her eyes in realization. "Oh, I see. Is it still too soon?"

The Captain nodded and wrested his arm back. "Yes, I think that must be it. My wife hasn't been gone that long, after all. Ask me again on another day."

Viola sighed. "I'm sorry to be such a bother. We'll talk another time."

Mjoll rolled her eyes and continued towards the Palace of Kings, where she saw Inigo stalking people.

"What are you doing?" Mjoll asked.

"Ssh! I smell the blood in the street somewhere..." he had been tracking the awful scent throughout the day. "It has been here, but where has it gone?" He began to walk around like a Dog, searching the vile scent.

Mjoll rolled her eyes and leaned against a stone wall. Here, she would wait for Cura.

Cura, on the other hand, finally found Calixto at the market, and flagged him down.

"Ah, I found you!" Cura exclaimed, causing the Imperial to jump.

He quickly turned around. "I have no idea!" He preemptively protested, which caused Cura to stiffen momentarily.

"Eh? I haven't even asked you anything yet." Cura raised an eyebrow with suspicion. "I just wanted to show you an interesting Amulet I found-perhaps you could appraise it for me."

"Oh? Ah, yes. Certainly. Give it here." Calixto held out a hand in anticipation.

When it reached his hands, a flash of panic and recollection gleamed his eye, but he quickly swallowed it down. "Let me see... ah, yes. This is the Wheelstone. It's an heirloom symbol of power in Windhelm. Traditionally it's carried by the court mage. I would... eh... be interested in acquiring it. If you're willing to part with it, that is. For a piece like this, I could pay... 500 gold?"

"I don't intend to sell it." Cura stated. "But I must admit it is strange that a court mage would openly carry a Necromantic Necklace. I suppose I should return it to him... or report it to the Vigil. It could be dangerous."

"Wuunferth? Bah. It's purely ceremonial, and he has no use for it. Besides, I wouldn't want to be the one to give it to him. Gives me the creeps. They say he dabbles in necromancy." Calixto stated.

"Who says it?" Cura asked. "If the rumours were that commonplace, surely the Vigil would have accosted him, or acknowledged such."

"Perhaps you should be the one to inform them, then." Calixto stated. "I wouldn't wait too long; you never know when he might strike again!"

Cura nodded. "I'll see what I can do." She turned to walk towards the Palace, but briefly turned back to Calixto. "By the way, how did you learn so much about arcane items?"

"My sister and I once traveled the world to assemble our collection." Calixto reminisced fondly. "Such adventures we had!"

"Your sister?" Cura asked.

"Yes... though she is no longer with me..." Calixto mourned within. "She perished a year ago... please, catch that evil fiend. '"

"I'm sorry to hear that." Cura's sympathies went out.

"It's all right, I will see her again eventually." Calixto stated. "Take care, now."

Cura nodded and proceeded to the Palace of Kings. Lydia walked up beside her.

"I can't be the only one who found him suspicious." Lydia stated.

"Very suspicious." Cura agreed. "I'm going to talk to Wuunferth, after we find Mjoll's learnings and Inigo's."

Shortly, Mjoll came into view.

"Mjoll! What have you learned?" Cura asked as they met next to a large torch.

"Viola Giordano thinks it is Wuunferth the Unliving, based on the journals." Mjoll stated. "Creepy man; some believe he does... strange activities in exchange for power."

So, he does have a strange reputation?

"I found out this Amulet is an heirloom of a court mage, according to Calixto." Cura stated as she showed it. "I'm going to confront Wuumferth directly."

"Are you sure, Cura? We could let the authorities deal with it." Mjoll stated.

Cura shook her head. "I want to see the man who I'll be having incarcerated before making harsh judgment."

"Be careful." Mjoll warned her.

"We've got your back." Lydia assured her.

Cura nodded and headed inside. Mjoll and Lydia followed behind her.

Inigo followed the distinct smell to the House of Curiosities at the East side of town. How he hated this area.

"Remember this place, Mr. Dragonfly?" he asked his insect friend as he looked around the familiar dark corners of the ancient city.

"It figures the smell would lead me here, to the disgusting area of town."

He grunted as the door was locked and his pulling proved fruitless. Looking around quickly, Inigo took out a lockpick and began to open the lock and eventually pushed the door open.

"Oh.. no wonder it was so hard to pry open. Oops." Inigo chuckled to himself.

He headed inside of the small museum with shelves lining the walls, containing odd curios and began to look around. The stench of blood was overwhelming, though subtle to the average nose. A shame they didn't allow Khajiit inside their cities; this would have been over ages ago.

The faint scent of blood led him up the ladder beside the door and onto a small indoor balcony with a locked chest and some shovels and other tools.

He picked the lock like a master thief and gazed at the contents within. Curiosity turned to horror.

In the chest, beside bloodied embalming tools identical to Hjerim's was a rugged Journal.

"I do hope curiosity will not, in fact, kill the Cat." Inigo grit his teeth as he slowly reached for the journal. He scanned the contents within.

"Soon enough, my sweet Lucilla, you will be with me again. Normally when such words are written it is because the love left behind is soon to depart, but in my case, I hope to soon bring your spirit back into my world, for it was you who loved this world so much, not I.

I continue to collect your new form from the ragged bits around Windhelm. If they only knew what destiny would soon grace their bodies, with your spirit imbuing them with higher purpose, they would surely thank me for the great gift I give them. I reserve for them a place of beauty alongside your heart.

The day draws near. Soon I will hold you. And I will show you this and it will be as delivering a long-forgotten letter to a weary traveler.

Love always,

Calixto"

"Jackpot!" Inigo exclaimed deliciously as he closed the chest and bagged the Journal. He headed down the ladder, and looked around. "Now we have enough evidence to -"

A switch of some kind was hidden behind a barrel on the wall behind him. Being the ever-nosey Cat he was, Inigo pulled the handle, which caused one of the curio shelves on the other side of the room to be raised up vertically along the wall, revealing a hidden passageway. The smell of blood almost knocked Inigo off his feet as it escaped like a bat out of hell.

"Do I dare...?" Inigo pondered to himself as he listened for potential footsteps outside. When nothing came through, he shrugged, "I guess I do." He swiftly hopped down from the balcony, and dashed through the hidden entrance.

Inside, he found what was perhaps the most macabre thing he had ever seen here in Windhelm; from the ceiling within, there were meat hooks, with human body parts suspended from them; a couple of left legs on one side, a couple of right legs on the other side, a couple of sets of arms, and several different torsos, all preserved with ice magic to remain fresh. They were still filled with congealing blood, some loose droplets running down the stumps and onto the floor.

"This man is deranged beyond belief..." Inigo muttered to himself as he tried desperately to keep himself calm and collected. "Only in Windhelm..."

Then he bit the bolt and headed towards what looked like an altar of some kind with a sheet laid over a mound on top of it, and proceeded to pull the sheet, unveiling the grand masterpiece underneath: an Imperial woman's head without eyes, sewn to another torso, sewn to different arms, and to different legs.

As much as Inigo had seen violence and gore in his many years as a mercenary, he never before would have thought to find himself standing before such deranged devilry. This was not just gore; this was some kind of next-level sickness, he thought to himself. Maybe those Vigilants have a point about Necromancy after all.

"So this is Lucilla..." Inigo grit his teeth. "poor girl. I don't know what is crueler; that you were dismembered by your brother after your death, or that you could wake up looking like a bloody patch doll..." Certainly, being in Lucilla's position would be horrific. Inigo could imagine the maiden's terrified reaction to her alien, abominable new body. Would she even be able to walk? Would she become like a Lich, but unable to live, nor die?

With disturbing scenarios filling his mind, Inigo slowly backed away and slipped the sheet back over the desecrated collection of corpses, once many healthy young women; now a horrific Necromantic experiment by some deranged lunatic. Only in Windhelm. Or Markarth, come to think of it.

It were times like these where Inigo sincerely regretted his decision to give up Skooma.

Hurrying out, Inigo rushed back up the balcony, nearly losing his footing, and pulled the switch once more, causing the shelf to cover the evil within the walls once more .One Dragon attack is all it would take to show this to the world. Just as soon as Inigo turned to the door, the knob twisted, and Calixto, the man himself, the butcher of maidens, came walking back inside his shop.

Inigo paled and swallowed hard as their two pairs of eyes locked.

Calixto too looked horrified in the instant, but quickly cleared his throat and forced a smile.

"Welcome to the House of Curiosities! I offer a brief tour for a few coins, or you can simply browse at your leisure." Calixto steered the conversation.

Inigo realized he had been caught snooping around as Calixto Corrium had just entered the store.

Play it cool, Inigo... the blue Khajiit thought. "How did you assemble this collection? These are very interesting!" He pointed to the shelves and silently prayed that Calixto hadn't noticed the lock off the Chest above the door.

"My sister and I inherited a modest sum of money. We decided to travel and seek out whatever adventures we could find. As we journeyed across Tamriel, we encountered tales of exotic and wondrous artifacts. We decided to collect as many as we could. My sister passed away some years ago, so I settled down here and opened the House of Curiosities. I think she would be happy to know that our collection has brought smiles to faces both young and old." Calixto smiled sadly.

He sounded forlorn as he spoke of his sister. Inigo couldn't help but wonder if it was grief that drove the man to insanity, or if it was his excuse to live out the violence he wanted deep down. Still, he would be better off not knowing-especially if he wanted to keep his hide.

"You mentioned a tour?" Inigo asked for clarification.

"Indeed I did! For a few septims, I'll tell you about some of the most interesting curiosities in my collection." Calixto offered enthusiastically.

"Er... I'll take the tour." Inigo handed him 3 septims, in the hopes of remaining inconspicuous.

"Splendid! If you'll just follow me, I'll tell you tales and show you wonders such as you've never seen." Calixto exclaimed excitedly as he waved Inigo over.

The cat reluctantly followed over to the first shelf on the left, where he saw dangerous-looking sharp hooks and pinions of some kind. He shivered at the sight of them. There was a theme here, to be sure.

"These tools were found in a crypt outside Windhelm. They belonged to the ancient Nords who dwelt in Skyrim before the days of the First Empire. Most scholars believe that the Nords of old used these implements to prepare their dead for burial. What macabre mysteries would these tools reveal if they could but speak?" Calixto scratched his chin.

"I'd... rather not ask them." Inigo admitted sheepishly.

"Here is the Book of Fate, discovered in a secret room in the Arcane University." Calixto opened a book that was completely blank and flashed it to Inigo. "The writing in the book describes the destiny of its reader, so the words change from one person to the next. Some see only blank pages, and nobody knows why. Perhaps some of us are born with no destiny, or maybe the blank pages signify an imminent death."

Inigo backed up a bit, drawing slight distance between them. "Imminent death, you say? Yes, yes, I see..." He placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, readying for an assault. But oddly enough, the more he stared at the blank pages, an image began to manifest, showing himself and Cura, fighting side-by-side against a black figure comprised of darkness.

Inigo could easily recognize himself, though the images were crude. He and Cura stood atop a mountain where Dragons flew, apparently, and fought the daunting black figure.

Calixto was too absorbed in history to notice his obvious discomfort.

"Ah, now here is an item out of legend. This is Ysgramor's Soup Spoon."

It was an old fork.

"Now, I know what you're thinking - this is no spoon, it's a fork! Nobody can eat soup with a fork! Well, my friend, you did not know Ysgramor." Calixto raised a finger with enthusiasm.

"No, I did not. He was way too old for me to speak with." Inigo retorted sarcastically.

Next, Calixto lifted up what seemed to be a normal Bard's flute. "Don't let this innocent-looking flute fool you, for this is the Dancer's Pipe. Legend holds that the Dancer's Pipe has won wars, toppled empires and changed the very course of history. None know its origins, but the stories say that men who hear its music are compelled to dance uncontrollably, no matter the peril. To activate this strange power, one must only speak the magic words, which are... Oh my, I very nearly got us both into a nasty predicament, didn't I?"

Inigo nodded, wondering if he could use the Book of Fate to write his last Will and Testament. He would leave Mr. Dragonfly with Cura... his bow with Mjoll... and his money with a charity of sorts. Lydia could have his toenails.

"And with that, the tour is over. I thank you for your patronage, and I hope to see you again soon!" Calixto simply bowed.

"Oh, yes. Very soon: and I may bring my friend, as well." Inigo said as he walked out the door.

Mjoll was at the Palace of Kings, so he would at least meet her there.

Cura headed up the stairs and after meandering the compacted hallways, found an open door, where an Arcane Enchanter was staring her right in the face. Lydia and Mjoll followed her.

Cura entered the room. Funny that Nords hated magic so much, and yet kept Wizards in their Courts.

"Strength and steel are well and good, but magic is the true power in this world." a voice spoke to Cura from the shadows.

An elder Nord in Indigo-coloured hooded robes sat on a seat to her right in the dimly lit room. It had to be Wuunferth.

"I've heard you dabble in necromancy." Cura stated plainly, revealing her Amulet of Stendarr. This made the elder a little nervous. "Stendarr's mercy be upon you, for the Vigil has none to spare."

"I beg your pardon? Necromancy? I am a member of the College of Winterhold, in good standing!" Wuunferth became defensive. "They haven't allowed Necromancy for hundreds of years!"

Cura rolled her eyes and took out the necklace; the arcane piece of the puzzle, but kept it to herself. "I found your journals and amulet where the Butcher worked."

"My what, now? I've never kept a journal, I can assure you. What exactly did this amulet look like?" Wuunferth wanted to see it.

"Eight-sided. Jade, ringed with ebony. A worn carving." Cura said as she let it dangle in the air.

Wuunferth scratched his beard. "I know it well. Or at least, I've heard of it. I would wager that carving once depicted a skull. That is the Necromancer's Amulet, of legend. It appears you were at least half-right. There is necromancy at the heart of this."

"So what can we do now?" Lydia jumped in, growing tired of the game.

"I've been noting a pattern to when the killings happen." Wuunferth explained. "Now that we know they're tied in to some sort of necromantic ritual, I think I know when the next might occur. Let's see. From a Loredas of Last Seed until a Middas of Heartfire... to a Mondas in Morningstar... it will happen soon. Very soon."

"And you say you're not tied to Necromancy?" Cura crossed her arms.

"Long ago I was, but I repented of it and joined the College of Winterhold. I only want to help catch this murderer, same as you, Vigilant." Wuunferth stated off-hand.

"Keep watch in the Stone Quarter tonight. That's almost certainly where the killer will strike next."

"Calixto Corrium told me that this Amulet belonged to court Wizards..." Cura mused. Though, come to think of it, Farengar in Dragonsreach didn't have one. Cura could take Wuunferth at his word.

"Eehh.. Calixto and his books are often confused about such matters. It happens to the best of us." Wuunferth shrugged.

"I'm beginning to think that he may be the Butcher." Cura stated.

"You Vigilants of Stendarr are always so quick to accuse." Wuunferth snubbed. "That's the heart of the reason why so many people have distaste for you."

"Actually, I had a feeling it wasn't you to begin with. I just needed to test the waters first." Cura confessed. "It seemed a little too convenient."

"Then you truly are the wisest of your kind." Wuunferth admired the difference in character.

"Viola seems to think you are the Butcher." Mjoll stated.

"Well now, if she would only have the courage to come and speak to me directly, I would gladly show her the mountains of work I am constantly preoccupied with." Wuunferth said with a laugh. "Even if I were a murderer, I would never have enough hours in the day to conduct those rituals outside of the court. And doing so here would be absurd. In fact, I've been scrying and auguring to find the murderer myself."

"I believe you." Cura nodded. "But still, as a Vigilant, I have to give you the standard warning: cavort with any Daedra, and we will hunt you down."

"Very well." Wuunferth placated the Breton. "Just remember; Stone Quarter. Tonight."

Cura nodded, and left him to his alchemy. Lydia and Mjoll followed her. When they were out of earshot, Lydia spoke up. "Are you sure we can trust him?"

"I don't know." Cura stated. "But if he were the killer, it would be idiotic for him to divulge his plans."

"Could be a Red Herring." Mjoll stated. "It's possible that he could be trying to cover up something. Maybe he'll strike again in the Gray Quarter, but misdirected us."

"And where will he go from there?" Cura stated. "We've uncovered his base of operations. It's over. Tonight, I want you two guarding the city gates, and Inigo, wherever he is. I don't want the killer to flee the city."

"He was tracking the scent of blood through the city, last I saw him." Mjoll explained.

Then it dawned on Cura. "Maybe he's found the scoundrel!"

Sure enough as they exited, Inigo was leaning against the brick wall, huffing and panting for air.

"Inigo!" Cura exclaimed as she hurried over to check on him. "Are you all right?"

"Lousy Rat bastard!" Inigo spat. "It is Calixto! The Butcher is Calixto!"

Cura and the other two exchanged glances.

"Are you sure?" Mjoll asked.

Inigo held out the journal. "Read it. This was in his chest, hidden amidst bloodied tools! Just like in Hjerim."

Cura quickly took the journal and began to read over it. Then her eyes widened as her suspicions were confirmed. "His sister..." she muttered. "That's what be meant when he said he would see her again."

"A part of me thought he was sick, to be honest." Lydia confessed. "As though maybe he was dying from an illness. He's a good actor, if deceiving us was his goal."

"He has a friendly face." Mjoll shrugged. "But it explains why he has such an issue with the posters and tries to avoid Viola, by his own admission."

"He told you that?" Cura asked Mjoll, taking it as confirmation.

"Aye." Mjoll responded. "I think we have our killer."

"And in his venue... there was a hidden chamber." Inigo shivered with the recollection. "He had an entire storage room with body parts... and another weird altar, with a woman's face sewn on various body parts, assembled like a Flash Golem."

"Stendarr's mercy..." Cura shuddered. "A part of me hopes you're telling a tall tale, but I know better than that... after what we encountered inside Hjerim..."

"Do we have a plan?" Inigo asked. "I could have taken him out then and there, but then the authorities would take me down, the thieving Khajiit who broke in and entered without permission."

"I have some ideas, but first, inform Jorleif that there are to be no Guards in the Stone Quarter; just me. Alone." Cura stated.

"What?" Lydia protested immediately. "No, no, nononononon." She shook her head and crossed her arms. "I will not allow it. That's dangerous!"

"Yes, you will, Lydia." Cura stood up to her Housecarl. "If there are two of us, we'll most likely be noticed. I'm going to act discreet, and see if I can draw him out of hiding, with his weapons at the ready. Then..."

"Than?" Mjoll asked.

"Than I will enact justice." Cura stated. "There will be no bounty on me. You will make sure of that."

"This is so dangerous." Lydia exclaimed. "You don't know what he's capable of!"

"And he has no idea what I'm capable of." Cura narrowed her eyes.


When night fell, Cura signaled for her allies to guard the entrances, ensuring Calixto would have no escape route from the city. After an inquiry with the guards, she learned that the Stone Quarter was the market area, just gussied up with a nickname.

The streets were dead silent; only the howling of the winter gale rung through the desolate city. Cura looked up at the falling snow, and witnessed her breath rise from her mouth in a plume of white mist.

She felt at home in Windhelm. It felt very much like the Pale, with its constant cold climate.

A scuffling sound emerged behind her.

She turned around quickly, but saw nothing there.

The Breton narrowed her eyes. She did not trust this one bit. She walked away from the produce stalls, where she faced the meats originally, and instead walked towards, the blacksmith's forge behind the small stone wall, where the sound had come from.

She quickly raised her shield, expecting an assailant to leap out at her, but only saw a pair of boots there, in the snow pile. There was no snow buildup on them, so they had been put there recently.

Immediately, she was grabbed from behind and a blade was pressed against her throat.

The Butcher held Cura's head back with his left arm and was readying to pull the blade across her neck.

Unbeknownst to the killer, however, Cura was far stronger than she appeared to be, and she quickly headbutted him backwards and grabbed him by the arm, removing the blade from her neck, only sustaining a minor cut in the process.

Immediately, she recognized the assailant; Calixto Corrium.

She was not disappointed. She simply shook her head. "You deranged son of a..." She punched him straight in the stomach, causing him to double over backwards and hit his head against the stone wall. As he fell, she realized he was not wearing boots.

"A clever trap, I must admit." Cura confessed, "But it doesn't appear to have worked in your favour."

"You should have minded your own business!" Calixto spat blood at her as he pulled himself back up. "I will have my sister back!" He raised his knife once again, and rushed towards Cura.

"FUS RO DAH!" Cura responded with a Shout, causing him to fly backwards and flip as he fumbled along the floor.

As Calixto scrambled to his feet slowly, Cura interrupted the recovery with a swift kick to his ribs. "That's for the Shatter-Shields!"

Calixto flipped over and gasped loudly as he felt his ribcage crack upon repeated impact.

Cura yanked the enfeebled man up on his feet, and shoved him against the wall. "That's for the waitress of Candlehearth Hall"

She pulled him towards her face and headbutted him with a solid thrust downwards. "That's-that's for the people of Windhelm, whom you've tormented for years!"

Calixto wheezed as he hit the ground. Struggling to breathe and bleeding from his mouth and nose, he tried to drag himself along the floor with futility to escape the furious Dragonborn.

"And now, for daring to evoke the dark forces by necromancy..." Cura's tone fell darkly. She raised her mace.

"N-no.. please! I'm sorry!" Calixto begged for his life. "Please, have-have mercy!"

"What did you say when those women begged you for mercy?" Cura asked him, her tone growing smug and justified.

"I..." Calixto tried to speak up for himself, but with the blood rushing through his throat and the pounding in his ears made it difficult to articulate. "m-mercy... p-please... my Lucilla..."

Cura shook her head and held her mace in two hands. "Prepare yourself to receive Stendarr's mercy."

"Please!" Calixto cried.

CLUD!

The mace buried itself in his forehead, and with an audible peep, Calixto slowly slid off the blunt weapon and into the realm of the damned. His last vision was that of his sister Lucilla, who mourned him as he slipped further and further down into Oblivion.

Cura stood there, gasping for air now that her racing heart slowed itself down. It was quite the ordeal.

It all happened so suddenly.

From one moment, she was attacked, her throat cut, struggled with the killer, delivered the justice of Stendarr upon the killer.

The victims were avenged, the city was now cleansed.

The snowfall stopped, and the skies became clear. Secunda and Masser, the two moons, shone brilliantly in the sky, in validation of the death of the bloodiest killer Windhelm has ever seen.

Back down on Nirn, however, leaving her stupour, Cura discovered another Journal, identical to the others, on Calixto's body. She clicked her tongue and cracked its stiff, new spine to open it. There was only one page of content. This was indeed very recent; perhaps from this very day. She began to read as she stood over the Butcher's corpse.

"Lucilla, my dear. Once this night has passed, you will have eyes with which to see the world again. Your glassy, rotted, decrepit eyes of old are no longer suitable to you; offensive to your very senses. I only wish to give you the best of the best.

Recently, a beautiful Manmeri woman has entered the city with a small troupe of allies, all seeking to interrupt my sacred work. You had always admired the refined Bretons, true. So, as my final gift to you, I will conjoin you with her lovely emerald eyes.

With these emerald eyes, you and I can look into the aurora that hangs above; a curtain of the heavens, a symbol of triumph over death. We were never meant to be apart, after all.

Divines be damned; time is of the essence. Tonight, my dear, once you're complete, we will reminisce of the old days, and you can tell me what awaits beyond the curtain.

your beloved brother, Calixto"

"..." Cura was disgusted. She looked at the corpse, where she noticed he had a pair of prongs in his tool belt-yes, prongs used for prying eyes. She touched her throat and cast a healing spell on the light cut. She cringed, having nearly become one of his victims that night.

Cura sat in the snow nearby as her allies came running to her aid.

"My Thane, your Shout resounded through the city! Are you all right?" Lydia was the first to approach.

"It's done." Cura informed her as she pointed to the corpse of Calixto.

"Hah! Take that, you bastard!" Inigo exclaimed. "Your sorry existence will plague this world no longer!" His mind wandered for a moment, and then he approached the corpse, and opened his coin bag, taking back the few gold he spent. "Here, you don't need these anymore."

Cura narrowed her eyes at Inigo.

"Hey! It is not stealing!" Inigo stated. "It is looting! Looting! Very different!"

Mjoll looked at the clean smash in the corpse's forehead, where brains begun to spill out. "Ooof. That was a nice, clean shot. You are no slouch with that mace, I must admit." She got up from her squatting position and turned towards the alleys. "I'll get the Guards! You go and speak to Jorleif."

Cura cooperated and lifted herself up and out of the snow. Saying nothing further, she continued to somberly walk through the alleys to the Palace of Kings.

Jorleif was sleeping on a bedroll in the kitchen. Cura felt a little bad waking him up in the middle of the night, but the urgency of this superseded a restful sleep.

"Jorleif?" Cura nudged his shoulder as she squatted to his level. Inigo and Lydia stood behind her, to corroborate her story if need be as Mjoll spoke to the Barrack Guards.

"Hmm? Huh... Yes?" The steward squirmed lightly as he slowly pulled himself up to a seated position.

"I've caught the killer. He won't be troubling Windhelm any longer." Cura informed him.

"You caught the devil?" Jorleif was surprised, as if he hadn't expected her to follow through with her promise. "Who was he?"

Cura looked to Inigo and Lydia, who presented him with the Journals and the Necromancer Amulet.

"Calixto Corrium. He was the Butcher." Cura stated as Jorleif began to pour over the Journals.

"Ysmir's beard! The man was always a bit odd, but I wouldn't have expected..." Jorleif sounded devastated.

"Mjoll and I discovered clues leading up to Calixto, with his hatred of Viola's pamphlets, his Journals, and suspicious demeanour when presented with questions." Cura stated. "My Housecarl, Lydia, discovered the Amulet, which Calixto tried to peg on Wuunferth the Unliving so that he could evade justice himself. He finally met his match when he attempted to murder me directly." Cura shook her head disapprovingly."And for the final bit of evidence, you can thank my friend, Inigo." She pointed to the blue Khajiit. "He found something... abhorrent in Calixto's House of Curiosities when he tracked the scents of Hjerim to there."

"Yes; bloody tools and another Journal matching the others, and a quaint little switch on the wall near the upper balcony that opens the way to Oblivion." He shuddered. "Or maybe that is an exaggeration, I cannot say. But I am glad to be out of there!"

"You've done the city a mighty service, my friends." Jorleif stated with a nod. He then turned his glance to Inigo. "I believe you'll find the guards to be a bit more cordial with you in the future."

"I hope so." Inigo remarked. "Being stared at is one thing, but being stared at with daggers is another."

Jorleif scoffed in amusement before speaking back to Cura. "We cannot thank you enough here in Windhelm, Vigilant. What did you say your name was again?"

"Vigilant Cura of the Pale." Cura stated.

"Thank you, Vigilant Cura of the Pale, for aiding us in our hour of need. Your deeds will not be forgotten." Jorleif assured her. "Please, stay in the City and come to see the Jarl come the morning. He will surely want to speak with you."

"It would be my honour." Cura half-bowed.

Jorleif took the evidence and left them all behind to deposit it in the Evidence Chest at the Guard Barracks as Mjoll exited. A few Guards exited after her, walked around her, and headed outside to perform cleanup duties.

"A job well done, I would say!" Mjoll wiped her hands as she looked at her friends. "Windhelm is now that much safer."

"And we've won the adoration of the people for it!" Lydia exclaimed joyously.

"Let's go to the Candlehearth Hall and announce it to the people." Cura stated. "They deserve to know that they can walk the streets safely again."

The group headed down the snow-covered steps and towards the Candlehearth Hall. When they entered, they could immediately spot Elda Early-Dawn and Viola Giordano conversing at the bar.

"I suppose you can sleep well at night again, now." Mjoll happily announced to Viola Giordano.

"Ooh! Did you catch him? Did you get the Butcher?" Viola excitedly snapped to look at her new band of heroes.

"Was Susanna's and the other girls' deaths avenged?" Elda asked in tandem.

"Yes, and yes." Cura assured them. "He will never harm anybody ever again."

"That blasted Wuunferth got what was coming to him!" Viola laughed. "I knew he was a sick-"

"It wasn't Wuunferth." Cura corrected Viola, cutting her celebration short. "I think you owe him an apology. He is strange, but he is not the killer."

Viola quickly fell silent, and Elda spoke up in her stead. "Then who was it?"

"Calixto Corrium." Mjoll confirmed, which caused Elda's eyes to spring open in shock, and Viola whirled around to look at her, mouth agape.

"I knew it!" Viola shouted. "I knew that man was a worm!"

"No... no, that can't be right." Elda denied the absurdity of it. "Calixto? The nice Imperial man who runs the museum?"

"That museum has more in it than just relics." Inigo shuddered.

"I can't believe it." Elda looked down at her counter sadly. "Why... why would he do such a thing to poor Susanna?"

"He wanted to rebuild his Sister." Inigo confirmed. "He was using parts of his victims to create a new body for her, but with her face, I presume."

"That freak! Thank goodness he failed. Can you imagine poor Lucilla's reaction to what her Brother did? She would probably have killed herself there on the spot!" Viola shouted viciously. "Tell me you sent him to the Bowels of Coldharbour where he belongs!"

"You knew Lucilla?" Mjoll asked Viola.

"Of course I did! We all did!" Viola stated. "She was a regular here for years, until sickness took her. She was such a nice woman."

"Her passing was what put him over the edge..." Elda realized. "Perhaps, after all these years, that was why he'd become so distant... why he... why those travelers disappeared..."

"He tried to kill Cura for her eyes." Inigo stated, pointing to his Breton friend. "Apparently Lucilla's old eyes were not good enough."

Elda looked at the Breton, who nodded somberly.

"Well, it's good to see that he failed." Elda admitted. "Crazy lunatic." She took out a case with six bottles of Mead. "Here, for all of you; free of charge. As well, you all get free lodging for the night. It is the least I can do."

Cura smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

"No; thank you." Elda corrected. "You've all made this city safer-and better for it."

"Yes-now all I have to worry about is those Dark Elves stealing from my house, potentially." Viola sneered. "But I'll leave that to the Guards. Good work, all of you!" She clapped her hands, as well as the few other citizens who overheard the conversation from the stairs and floor above.

Quickly, racing down the stairs was Nilsine Shatter-Shield, who took Cura into an embrace. "Thank you... thank you so much." The Nord woman had tears streaking down her face.

Torbjorn and Tova also came down to greet the group.

"You've done so much for my family." Torbjorn informed Cura. "You have no idea. By bringing my daughter's killer to justice, you have avenged her death."

Cura smiled as she slowly released Nilsine. "It was my pleasure."

Tova was still crippled with sorrow, but she managed to force a smile for the occasion. "I am sure Friga's soul is at peace, now..." She stated. "I hope we... can find our peace, as well."

"I hope so, too." Cura told her. "Be well."


As Cura lay in her bed, she gazed up at the ceiling.

Grief was truly a dangerous thing; for some, it could become an unending trial, though for others, it could push them towards acts of desperation, and even depravity.

Cura herself had seen more death than life in the last few months, and the horrors of Hjerim bored into her soul. She looked over to Inigo, who was in the next bed beside her, on the other side of the small room. "Inigo, are you awake?" She asked, in a whisper.

"How much much cheese can a Skeever chase if a Skeever could chase cheese?" Inigo whispered back.

He was awake, all right.

"How are you doing?" Cura asked him, a little concerned now that she could afford it. She hadn't seen the horror in the House of Curiosities, but Hjerim was bad enough.

"I am alive, so that is good." Inigo noted. "The Butcher is gone, and you have eyes. I think all is right in the world, now."

Cura agreed. "Will you be able to sleep?" She asked him.

"Sigh..." Inigo breathed out audibly. "I hope so. Once I get that horrible smell out of my nose."

Cura slowly stood up and closed the door. "Does this help at all?"

"It is not coming from outside." Inigo stated. "It is you."

"Me?" Cura was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you need a new pair of robes. Those rags are of the Grim Reaper itself." Inigo chuckled with abhorrence. "You are like a Rafflesia-you look cute and lovely from a distance, but your smell is terrible!"

"Well, you're no rose bush yourself!" Cura snarked back at him.

Inigo lifted his arm and took a whiff. "Ew... okay, yes. You've got me there."

"After Riften, I will never enter another Bathhouse unless I can keep my Amulet." Cura stated definitively.

"You'd better be clean if you plan to see the Jarl tomorrow morning." Inigo warned her. "There is a bathing room at the bottom of this Hall. I implore you, please use it."

Cura nodded. "I will."

"Good." inigo laughed as he rested his head back on his pillow. After some short moments passed, he chuckled again. "This is just like old times, is it not? You and me, ruining the bedsheets of every Inn we come across with blood and death. Stopping killers to help the locals for free..."

Cura fell silent.

Here he was again, recalling falsehoods. Though, it wasn't entirely false if she looked at it under recent days.

"We make an excellent team, you and I!" Inigo exclaimed joyfully.

"Don't forget about Mjoll and Lydia." Cura reminded him. "They helped pull their weight in the investigation, too."

"True." Inigo admitted. "I will be sure to credit them more from now on, even if Lydia is a pig-head."

"I heard that, you mangey cat." A feminine voice spoke up from the other side of the wall near Inigo's head. "We can hear you, you know."

"I said I would credit you! Sheesh!" Inigo snapped back.

After some time of bickering, Cura slowly drifted to sleep, allowing it all to fade into the background.

The next day, Cura took Inigo's advice and cleaned herself thoroughly ait the bathing room down the stairs. She wondered if they had gotten their water from the moat around the city, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that now her robes were scrubbed clean by the poor Washing woman, and her body was cleansed of all offensive grime.

Getting redressed, Cura noticed a faint new scar on her neck. It was small, and barely noticeable, but it was her souvenir-her badge of honour detailing her victory over the Butcher.

Soon enough, Cura and her friends headed to the Palace of Kings and entered the main hall, where Ulfric was sat on his throne. As soon as he noticed the group, he beckoned them forward.

"I've heard of your triumph from Jorleif." Ulfric informed them. "Well done. You've done a great service for my city, Dragonborn." He looked to Cura. "And your partners, as well. I thank all of you, formally."

Dragonborn? How did he know that?

"You know I'm Dragonborn?" Cura's eyes widened.

"You have the ability to Shout." Ulfric stated. "Where did you learn that? The Greybeards, I am certain."

"How did you.."

"Your voice resonated throughout the city last night, when the Butcher was killed." Ulfric stated with a smirk. "I would recognize the Unrelenting Force Shout anywhere."

"Was that the Shout you used..." Cura began to ask.

"Yes. I tore High King Torygg to pieces with it." Ulfric admitted. "Fus, ro, and dah. Your mastery of those words is most impressive. You're young, and could use an advanced Shout. The only explanation is that you are Dragonborn."

Cura lowered her eyes at first, and then turned to face him again. "You're right. I am Dragonborn. Why me? I don't know. But I want to use that power to help as many people as I can."

"Truly admirable, indeed." Ulfric stated, impressed. "Not many with your gift would use it so wisely.: Some would take it for granted, or use it to single-handedly lay siege to a city, or usurp a Jarl's throne, and yet... you seek only to stop murderers and help the downtrodden. Quite unexpected for a Dragonborn to go to such lengths for commonfolk. Even less so for a Breton."

Cura shrugged in response.

"...But you are no true Breton, are you?" Ulfric clued in. "You are Nord, and you are Altmer."

Cura grit her teeth, and Inigo stood defensive. They knew that when someone began speaking like that, racism was only a stone's throw away.

Ulfric simply scoffed. "There's more to you than meets the eye." He slowly got up from his throne and raised his voice before the court. "By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Eastmarch. Congratulations. I grant you a personal Housecarl to watch over your home and this weapon from my armory to serve as your badge of office. I'll also notify my guards of your new title." He approached Cura and handed her a Nordic Bow of Eastmarch. Cura accepted it graciously.

Cura lifted her head up to him. "My home?" Did she hear that right? She hadn't purchased any property in the city.

"Yes; Hjerim belongs to you, now. Once we've finished refurnishing it and cleaning it, you may meet your new Housecarl, Calder." Ulfric informed her.

"I... don't have to buy the property?" Cura was stunned.

"No. The Shatter-Shields have bequeathed it unto you." Ulfric stated.

Cura felt an indescribable sort of happiness. She must really have done more of a service for them than she thought for them to essentially give her a property as luxurious as Hjerim; ragardless of the horrors that transpired in it. It was no issue; she could just bless the house in Stendarr's name, but no doubt they've already blessed it by Talos at this point.

"For your friends, I declare you all Thanes-errant of Eastmarch." Ulfric said to Lydia, Mjoll and Inigo. "There are no properties for sale at this time, but if more arrive in the future, you will be permitted to purchase them. I will notify the Guards of your standing, as well."

Lydia nearly squealed with excitement, and Inigo was awestruck.

"I have just become the first Khajiit Thane in Skyrim..." Inigo mused, still stuck in the clouds.

"Congratulations, Inigo!" Mjoll happily embraced him from behind. "That is a wonderful step towards life in Skyrim!"

"In... Windhelm." Inigo murmured. The place he hated the most, and now he was a Thane of it.

"Now, I have things to attend to." Ulfric informed Cura. "You're welcome to the Palace of Kings anytime, Dragonborn."

"Thank you, my Jarl." Cura bowed as she took her leave. "Have yourself a prosperous and gracious day."

"You, as well." Ulfric said courteously.

That whole interaction surprised all of Cura's allies. From the way he was described, Ulfric was hateful of all non-Nords, but he seemed more than fair in truth, At least to Cura, who was half-their enemy. She took one last look at the Jarl as the group left the Palace.

She felt an immense respect for Ulfric Stormcloak, even if she was not a supporter of his cause. He was a strong-willed man who held compassion for others, even if he would mince his words.

"What do we do now?" Inigo turned to Cura.

"We could watch a battle at the Pits, and buy some drinks from the New Gnisis Cornerclub." Cura proposed.

Lydia nodded. "Sure. It sounds like a great idea!"

"I second it. I could use a drink." Mjoll confessed.

As the group headed through the alleys, they were approached by a couple of Dark Elves, who were crossing their way. The female, Suvaris, recognized Cura immediately.

"Hello, Cura!" Suvaris waved to her.

Cura waved back. "Suvaris! How are you?"

"Much better, now that that killer is off the streets." Suvaris laughed. "It was only a matter of time before he would target a Dunmer."

"Not very likely." Inigo shook his head. "He was after Nords, and some Imperials, mostly."

"At any rate, you've been making waves in this city. Some say you're Dragonborn." the male Dunmer beside Suvaris said. "We would be honoured to have you at our club."

"We were just on our way there now." Cura stated.

"Good; we just made some fresh Shein." the Dunmer stated. "Have you ever tried it before?"

Cura shook her head.

"I have." Mjoll admitted. "But I'm more partial to Sujamma, personally."

"Once." Inigo confessed. "Did not like it very much. I prefer Mazte; it works its magic quicker."

"We also have Mazte." the Dunmer stated. "We wouldn't be Dunmer if we hadn't."

"Ambarys, please." Suvaris rolled her red eyes. "Just enjoy yourselves. You've more than earned it."

Cura nodded, and the groups went their own ways.

That midday at the cornerclub was filled with songs from Morrowind, much mirth and laughter as the group celebrated their new elevation to Thaneship in Windhelm. Afterwards, they spent hours watching gruelling battles between men and the beasts of the wild. Much garish excitement to be had.

By the time the day was over, the group cheerfully went to check on Hjerim and the Shatter-Shields' home nearby. The Shatter-Shields were speaking with some masons and city guards in front of Hjerim.

"Ah, Cura, hello!" Nilsine called out to her as she approached.

"Hello." Cura greeted cordially.

"The house isn't ready for you yet." Nilsine explained. "The bodies are still being removed and examined, and brought to the Hall of the Dead."

Cura nodded. "All right. I wanted to thank you all for the new house, actually. I knew your house was around here."

"You brought honour to Friga and to us all where nobody else would." Torbjorn interjected. "It's the least we can do. You should come back next week; the place should be better off by then."

The Nords really took honour seriously. Cura knew this, but never knew the extent it could reach. Still, she was flowing with gratitude. "All right, if I'm not side-tracked, I will be back next week to see the nice new house!"

For the meantime, she and her friends would relax and hone her abilities for the next few days, for her birthday was coming up soon; as well as her date with Delphine, and the Thalmor.

It was going to be a bumpy ride.