Dark skies loomed in the east over Shor's Stone, Kynesgrove, and the Rift itself and Eastmarch. Dark clouds circled the skies above; an alarming sight for all who were concerned.
The clouds could be seen even as far as from Windhelm. Jorleif the Steward looked at the foreboding celestial omen and hurried back into the walled city to report the phenomenon.
"First an earthquake and now the skies have grown dark? I thought the Dovahkiin defeated Alduin?" Galmar spat angrily upon hearing the news.
Jorleif shook his head. "No. This has nothing to do with Alduin - this is something new. Something else, but sinister as well."
Ulfric held a finger over his chin as he began to ponder the scenario. "It is from the east, I take it? Perhaps Red Mountain has erupted once more?"
It was an easy assumption to fall into, but the situation felt far more sinister than a natural volcanic eruption.
Jorleif shook his head. "I... I don't know, my Jarl. The Gray Quarter does not seem to be acting out of the ordinary, so I doubt Morrowind holds any significance in this."
"Damned Gray Skins!" Galmar spat. "I wouldn't be surprised if this was their doing! They are Elves, after all! Maybe they're trying to crush our independence from within our own borders, the bastards! Probably working for the Aldmeri Dominion!"
"Be rational, Galmar. Now is not the time to go around pointing fingers. If this is a threat to our city, I want to know what the hell is happening in those mountains." Ulfric proclaimed. For all he knew, the Imperials could be preparing an ambush to take Kynesgrove from behind.
In that instant, one of the high double doors at the entrance to the Palace opened and an intriguing, tall and gaunt figure in black, hooded robes entered. It was a feminine figure, to be sure, but difficult to recognize from the throne.
Galmar, Ulfric, and Jorleif's attentions were grabbed by the sudden entrance and the three watched as the figure approached from around the long table at the center of the main hall.
Before the figure could reach the end of the table, Ulfric already recognized her as Elenwen. The scent of her snowberry-laden perfume was unmistakable.
"Who dares approach the Jarl without summons?" Galmar growled, now recognizing the figure as a High Elf, but not seeing her face exactly. If their city wasn't stretched thin at this point in time with most of their soldiers in the fields, she would never have been able to simply waltz in like this.
Elenwen placed a foot on the base of the throne's steps. "We are all in danger. Alduin was not the end of Tamriel's troubles."
Ulfric looked to see if there were other Thalmor, but he came to the realization that Elenwen came alone. For her to break their mutual deal and set foot in his city, his palace, no less, this had to be very important.
Ulfric raised a hand to calm Galmar, who was like a rabid dog. "It is all right. I summoned her here." the Jarl proclaimed retroactively.
"You... you called one of those Elves here? My Jarl, in our city - " Galmar questioned him.
"I did not ask for your input. Now, leave us to talk. Alone." Ulfric declared.
"With all due respect, my Jarl, I hope you know what you're doing." Galmar growled as he exited to the war room, leaving the two of them alone.
Why the Jarl of Windhelm would associate with one of those pompous Talos-haters was a question for the ages, though there were times where enemies would be made into strange bedfellows under certain circumstances. Lest he forget the negotiations at High Hrothgar.
Elenwen kept her hood up, but her face was visible enough that Ulfric could see the redness underneath her eyes. She'd been weeping for some time.
"Why have you come all the way to Windhelm? What has happened?" the Jarl asked with some concern, but restraining himself to his seat.
A shudder escaped her lips. "Our Cura is dead."
As the words settled in, Ulfric slowly pulled himself up from his seat. "Dead?" He loomed over her at the forum.
"Killed by the Mythic Dawn." Elenwen expressed her sorrow. "Those maligned cockroaches are back. They've returned and killed Cura!"
As soon as he heard it, the Bear of Eastmarch was shaken to his core. "No... that can't be. She defeated Alduin! She..." he slowly sunk back into his chair as the tightness in his chest only increased. "Is this true?"
"Why would I come here, and risk soiling everything on a lie?" Elenwen pointed out with great frustration.
"I will have to explain this to the others. You did me no favour coming into my palace." Ulfric stated.
"Our daughter is dead! To hell with the others!" Elenwen growled, showing her true colours.
"They can't know that she's our daughter. Keep it down!" Ulfric admonished her.
Elenwen remembered their positions and snuffed her flame accordingly. She put back on her business airs. "That earthquake felt across the province... what do you make of it?"
"We don't know." Ulfric admitted. "My men are looking into it."
"The Thalmor are looking into it, as well." Elenwen informed him. "I intend to root out whatever Mythic Dawn Cultists dwell among the population and have them slaughtered. It's the least I can do for Cura."
Ulfric nodded. "Indeed. I too will put a warrant out on them in Eastmarch. That group should have stayed-"
"AUGH!" came a cry and great clashing of steel from the war room.
"Hng!"
Sounds of lightning bolts filled the air and Jorleif came flying out of the room. "No more! I yield! I yield!"
Chasing him out was the court mage, Wuunferth the Unliving. His sights were set upon the Jarl. "Die, Ulfric Stormcloak!"
He cracked Jorleif with a fatal Elemental bolt to get him out of the way, breaking his bones and searing his flesh.
"Jorleif!" Ulfric cried out.
Elenwen leapt in and held up a Greater Ward to guard Ulfric against the next pair of Elemental Bolts and retaliated by summoning a pair of Storm Atronachs.
Her hood flew open from the winds, revealing her face.
Galmar was wounded badly, grabbing his bleeding side, but wielding his battleaxe in one hand.
Wuunferth was struck with lightning, but quickly summoned a wall of stone to block subsequent bolts.
"Damn it!" Elenwen grunted with great annoyance. She looked to Ulfric, who stepped down from the forum and walked in front of her and gently moved her backwards.
"Wuunferth! What in Oblivion are you doing?!"
"What I have wanted to for decades." Wuunferth laughed. "Dawn is breaking, Ulfric Stormcloak - Skyrim will be freed from the Empire, and also from you! A new order awaits!"
"Bastard!" Ulfric spat. "FUS RO DAH!" his Thu'um hit the stone wall, causing the rocks to scatter, and some to hit the wizard.
Wuunferth staggered backwards and wiped some blood off his lip. He dodged an axe swing from Galmar, but was hit by a bolt of Elenwen's first Atronach.
As soon as Galmar saw her without the hood, his eyes widened. "You... you're that Talos-hating bitch! You've got some nerve showing up here!"
"Save it for later, you pigheaded buffoon! Act alive!" Elenwen chastised him as Wuunferth conjured up two Dremora. He sent one after Ulfric and the other at Galmar.
Elenwen stood at Ulfric's side and conjured a Bound Sword, which she used to party a Dremora's attack.
Ulfric wielded his War Axe and nimbly sliced at the wizard. "Wuunferth, have you lost your bloody mind?! Why are you doing this? You were a trusted member of my court. My father-"
"Your Father was a fool. You are a fool." Wuunferth proclaimed. "All you've fought for has played into our hands!"
"You suggested I test the High King in combat. To prove myself as leadership material." Ulfric recalled.
Wuunferth laughed. "For the sons and daughters of Skyrim, of course. Your little Civil War was part of the great distraction. The Great War with the Thalmor was the breeding grounds." he cast his gaze onto Elenwen.
"Breeding grounds for what?" Elenwen hissed. None of it made any sense. The Aldmeri Dominion was by all rights the rightful Victor's of that war.
"The breeding grounds of my Master's return! Your usefulness is at its end. Our hour is finally come!" the old warlock uttered smugly as he struck Ulfric with a bolt of lightning, causing the Nord to fall backwards.
"Ulfric!" Elenwen exclaimed with horror, dropping her cold Aldmeri facade entirely.
"Scum-sucker! Who is your master? I'll gut him like a Horker!" Galmar roared as he struck the elder.
The Storm Atronachs kept the Dremora at bay, and Ulfric pulled himself back up.
"Mehrunes Dagon." Wuunferth proclaimed darkly as he cast a healing spell on himself.
No sooner did he say the name before Galmar's battleaxe cleaved his head off his shoulders. "GRAAAAH!"
Elenwen gasped reactively as the head flew across the room and splattered blood on the floor before creating a trail of blood and rolling into the corner. The body collapsed to the ground and blood began to spill out.
The Dremora and Storm Atronachs both vanished into the air.
Ulfric walked over to Jorleif's corpse and lifted his hand. It was limp, and cold to the touch. The Jarl closed his vacant eyes and sighed sadly. "You were a good servant, Jorleif. I am sorry it had to be this way... May you rest well."
Galmar heaved like a wild animal and fell to the ground, sliding down the wall. Then his focus returned to Elenwen and he caught himself halfway. He quickly made a dash towards her and grabbed her by the throat. "Elven Bitch! Huff... huff... I know you had something to do with this!"
Elenwen gagged as tight, strong fingers clamped down on her windpipe like vices. She feebly attempted to pry his hands off her, scratching uselessly at his spiked steel gauntlets.
"Galmar! That's enough! Let her go!" Ulfric commanded.
Elenwen gasped loudly as Galmar reluctantly released her with a roar.
Elenwen stumbled backwards, but Ulfric caught her. He helped her keep balanced.
"Jarl Ulfric! You aren't going to let that Talos-hater live, are you?" Galmar asked.
"Look around you, Galmar. There are worse threats at hand than the Empire and the Thalmor." Ulfric proclaimed. "This group killed the Dragonborn. And now we know what that earthquake in the east must have been."
Galmar breathed exhaustedly and glared in Elenwen's direction. He then looked at Ulfric, who stood beside her. His breaths grew shorter and more silent as a realization struck him. "No... you can't be serious..."
He knew already that Cura, who was half-Altmer, was Ulfric's daughter.
That Elenwen would be so bold, and face no consequences for showing her face here...
Galmar looked at the two of them with great scorn as something began to dawn on him. Something that he'd under no uncertain turns look upon with great disdain, even if - no - especially coming from his Jarl. "This... no. This can't be true. The two of you..."
"Keep your eyes on what really matters, not on what your stupid assumptions are." Elenwen chastised the berserker and walked over to Wuunferth's corpse. She noticed a touch of red fabric underneath his black robe and pulled the covering off, revealing a Mythic Dawn uniform underneath. "Well, then. There's one down."
"Our court has been infiltrated for decades..." Ulfric sat back on his throne and held his head in his hands.
"Daedra have the luxury of eternity to plan their schemes. You had no way of knowing. Your Father had no way of knowing." Elenwen defended him.
Galmar growled. "When we gain our independence, we're coming for you leather-biting elves next! Mark my words!"
"Well, you're welcome to try - if you think you could fight us so soon after the Civil War." Elenwen mocked his ignorance.
"Haven't you been paying attention?" Ulfric looked white as a ghost, and disheartened greatly. He stared a great distance through the air. "The Civil War... the plot the Elves used against Talos... the Great War... it's all been a lie. We were all played like fucking lutes!"
Elenwen shook her head. "You, perhaps have been, but the Aldmeri Dominion has grown on its own. There was no involvement by the Mythic Dawn."
"No? Can you be sure of that, witch?" Galmar huffed.
"Yes."
"Then I say we kill her. She's as bad as the Mythic Dawn!" Galmar insisted.
Ulfric shook his head. "We can't afford to evoke the wrath of the Thalmor right now."
"I'm not a fool, you know." Galmar snarled. "I've figured it out. You took this filthy elf as your mistress! You are a traitor to our cause! Hnnng!" he gripped his bleeding side.
Ulfric looked at Elenwen. She scoffed and cast a Healing spell on Galmar.
The proud berserker wrested himself away from her. "No damned magic! I don't need your damned magic!"
"Fine. Bleed to death, then!" Elenwen scoffed with annoyance.
"I am no traitor to my own cause." Ulfric defended his actions. "The Dragonborn may have been the product of an affair, yes, but it was with a purpose."
"What purpose?!" Galmar snapped back.
"I have no heirs, Galmar. Nobody to carry on the Stormcloak name." Ulfric stated. "I needed a failsafe. I needed to have a child out there in the world who would have secured authority, one way or another."
Galmar grunted. "And so you let this twisted elf take your sword? You were in bed with the enemy in the most literal sense!"
"None of what I did holds any weight any longer. My child... is dead." he gently touched Elenwen's arm. "Our child... is dead."
Galmar noted the sorrowful expression in Elenwen's face and calmed momentarily. Even if she was technically the enemy, that kind of sorrow was not one to be mocked.
Galmar wondered why Ulfric and Elenwen, a Thalmor, would have done this, but then his thoughts drifted politically. Perhaps their child would have secured an alliance of sorts with the Thalmor, united against the Empire.
Or... perhaps to preserve Talos. Once Cura worked up in the Thalmor's ranks, perhaps she would have taken the side of Talos and fought from within.
If this were the case, Ulfric's sacrifice to their cause was deeper, and far more personal than they knew.
Nobody really knew what was discussed in that interrogation chamber, when Ulfric was in Thalmor custody so long ago. Neither the Thalmor nor the Stormcloaks - as it was only Ulfric and Elenwen there, and either one would spin their own version of events.
But it was all for nothing, now.
"Gods..." Galmar shuddered. "I'm... sorry, my Jarl. For your loss. For all our loss." he turned to look at Elenwen, who was massaging her throat. "And you, as well. I'm... sorry for your loss."
Elenwen had no words for him. She simply closed her eyes, as the world around her brought nothing but pain.
Ulfric looked down at Wuunferth's headless corpse. "I'm still aghast by Wuunferth's bitter betrayal."
"He was always a weird one. And I've told you repeatedly that mages are not to be trusted." Galmar said.
"I want the city searched. I want citizens interrogated." Ulfric commanded. "I want every civilian accounted for. We cannot afford to suffer more of these Mythic Dawn bastards in my city."
Galmar bowed. "Yes, my Jarl." he acted quickly, hurrying outside to inform the Guards of what happened In the hall, and what their task was now.
Elenwen pulled her hood back on. She was beginning to walk when Ulfric grabbed her arm. "Where do you think you're going?"
"To get a drink. My business here is done." Elenwen admitted.
Ulfric nodded in understanding. He stared into her amber eyes for a few moments and released her. Galmar may be forgiving, but the others who didn't know him as well would not be. It would be best if they kept their distance.
Elenwen gently caressed his lower cheek. "It's time to don the mask again." she lowered her hand and took a few steps back.
Ulfric noticed Guards opening the doors and entering immediately afterwards. He cleared his throat. "Fine, your threats mean nothing to me! This Mythic Dawn bastard couldn't bring down this city. Why should I fear the Empire?"
Elenwen scoffed. "You are a fool. You've always been a stubborn oaf. Your rebellion will collapse under its own hammer. You're just too blind to see it."
"Bitch. Get out of my palace."
"Ulfric, always a pleasure. Your Amulet of Talos looks so lovely. A shame it's hung around such a worthless neck." Elenwen playfully mocked him as she waltzed past the armed soldiers.
"Shouldn't we arrest her?" one of the Windhelm guards asked.
"Let her go. She helped us fight the traitor Wuunferth. She gets a pass, for now." Ulfric scoffed.
He could not deny the magical wounds on the corpse, so he had to tell the partial truth.
With the war, it was difficult, but Ulfric would double his palace guard inside and out from that point on.
Carcette had fallen asleep after much difficulty, and had a strange dream. She was walking through a large, endless cavern with diamonds encrusting every inch of the world around her. Diamond pillars and obelisks stood erect, like sharp swords, towards the ceiling above, which resembled much an Elven Temple of sorts. These crystal pillars stretched out in adjacent rows deeper and deeper in, and the more she walked, the more she noticed the gentle echoes of her footsteps.
That was when she'd realized she was barefoot, and the crystal under her soles was firm, and very cold. Almost like ice, nearing room temperature, mercifully enough. A draft covered her entire body; which she then noticed, was uncovered. She gasped and quickly threw her arms over her exposed bosom as she quickened her pace in vain attempt to find a place to hide for cover.
"There is no use in hiding. All is lain bare for me. Every dishonest deed; every lie; every blemish; every sin; every bit of disorder." a booming masculine voice spoke to her from the end of the extensive stone hall.
Carcette was beckoned towards the figure, and as she came closer she could very slightly distinguish him from his surroundings, though with great difficulty. It was the Daedric Prince, Jyggalag. He sat upon a throne formed with and adorned by thousands of crystallic swords. His armour itself was of solid gray crystal, and his helm spiked upwards in equal spires, numbered at three. He was broad and leaned forward upon his large sword as he remained seated upon the throne. He had an austere gray face and poshly-groomed white facial hair.
"Y-you're Jyggalag! The Daedric Prince of -"
"Order."
He finished the statement for her quickly and plainly. It was clear that he had no interest in playing games or entertaining a guess. The Daedra was straight to the point. "Order is threatened once more. The other Daedra seek to bring chaos into the world again. And again. And again." Jyggalag leaned against his fist and leaned upon his throne's armrest.
But Stendarr was the god of Order! Mercy, Justuce, Righteous Rule by Merciful Forbearance, and Order.
She could never grant such a title to a Daedric Prince.
Though, was it her place to dictate much to this otherworldly being that could crush her like an irritating fly with his thumb?
Carcette shivered under the frozen air. Her breath raised upwards in a light, visible smoke. She would show no fear, however. "Why have you come to me?"
Jyggalag seemed perplexed in the moment and leaned back in his seat. "I have not come to you, mortal. You have come to me seeking Order."
That was impossible. She would never stoop as low as pining to a Daedra for aid in her desperate hour. She was a devoted follower of Stendarr! She shook her head in quick protest. "That's impossible."
Meridia, lend me Dawnbreaker and I will continue my protégé's work in your name. the words echoed in the back of her mind like a pin to a bubble.
Okay, maybe she did once. Once.
Jyggalag examined her thoroughly, looking into her heart. "You are lying to yourself as the world collapses around you. I understand. It is only mortal to act in defiance to the unknown." he stood up from his throne and walked up to her, where the Daedra towered over her by fourteen feet. His sword itself planted in the ground before her, and he resembled a traditional suit of armour bearing a sword. "Doubt has been cast upon all you'd ever been taught, and all you'd ever believed in. You ask yourself why a god would grant you mercy, and then ignore your plight not one month later. You question why one you loved has perished, and whether or not you could have done something to stop it."
Jyggalag led her over to what looked like a large crystal wall, where he showed her a vision of the Mythic Dawn they'd fought, years ago under Vonos, planning out their schemes. Once the vision ended, he turned to the distressed Breton. "Mehrunes Dagon plotted meticulously against your world. There was nothing you could have done. I have seen it from the beginning."
"Why do you care? Why are you showing this to me?" Carcette demanded to know.
Jyggalag was unfazed by her defensiveness. "I have a proposition for you." with a wave of his hand, the mighty Daedric prince conjured up what appeared to be a gray set of armour with thorn-inspired crystal adornments crossing around the front and a long, gray cape coming from the back. The pauldrons were also covered in crystal thorn adornments, and a helm with crystal thorns surrounding its forehead strip, wrapping around what looked like wings on the sides rested above it.
Carcette was awestruck by the sight of it. And at the same time, she was anxious. What would this mean for her?
"I am a Daedric Prince. My will is made reality." Jyggalag stated. "I seek, above all things, order. The cycles that sustain this world. Life to death, vapour to rain, predator and prey, light and dark, correctness, truth." as he said these things, the Daedra's voice grew tender; gentle. Like a teacher instructing a student, he laid his purpose bare before her.
Carcette listened silently and looked upon the impressive armour offered to her. It was perfectly symmetrical. Not one dent nor scratch blemished its metal. It was perfect, in all its ways. She touched it and looked up to see the Daedra's obscured face.
She caressed the sharp left pauldron of the armour and considered the ever-growing pit of insanity that was Tamriel. "I feel the same way. A world of order would be far greater than... whatever ours is."
All order on Tamriel was in disrepair thanks to the Daedra. Vampires defied the natural cycle of life and death; an insult to both Arkay and to Jyggalag. Werewolves, being man and wolf, skewered the natural cycle of predator and prey, once the beasts consumed fellow humans. Correctness: Mehrunes Dagon acted in direct opposition to this, laying destruction wherever he could, regardless on whether it was deserved or not. Truth - Clavicus Vile despised this and perverted it in every opportunity.
Carcette studied Jyggalag. Based on what she was seeing and hearing, he seemed far more akin to an Aedra, but was nonetheless counted among the Daedra.
He was something beyond good and evil. He was duality itself.
Malice or compassion; he was capable of both, but neither. He looked at the greater scheme of things and treated existence accordingly.
If one knew not suffering, could they appreciate peace?
If one had never been burned, could they appreciate the cold, or vice versa?
"I am Order." Jyggalag put it simply. "I was once the most powerful Daedric Prince... until madness was set upon me by the villainous machinations of my kin."
"Sheogorath."
"Yes. Sheogorath. Yes." Jyggalag shuffled over to his throne and seated once again. "How much chaos have I - has he - wrought upon Tamriel? Beyond account. It has been far too much."
Carcette shivered lightly as the cold regained her attention. However, she tried to offer some kind of consolation to the Daedra. "It's not your fault. I guess sometimes there are things beyond anyone's control; even the Et'Ada."
"Then you now see the world for what it truly is; this is good." Jyggalag summoned a gray robe in Carcette's size and handed it to her for warmth.
Carcette graciously accepted the garb and slipped it on with haste. She found him to be quite courteous, surprisingly enough.
"You arriving here too was beyond my vision. I'd never anticipated a Vigilant of Stendarr to appear in my castle, though if you represent Stuhn, it is an honour. I knew him quite well." Jyggalag admitted.
"You speak with no animosity against him." Carcette was shocked. She'd figured there would be some bitterness between Aedra and Daedra, but Jyggalag was different from what she was expecting.
"I bear no animosity for anyone. Animosity is a disruption of one's internal order. I do as I must. My Graymarches are borne of necessity; not of malice. I am neutrality incarnate." Jyggalag proclaimed in even-toned speech.
Truly, there was no hint of anything in his voice; neither lilt, nor waver, neither joy, nor hatred, nor condemnation. He simply said his piece as he saw it.
"It must feel nice." Carcette wondered. "To not feel weighed down by stresses and animosity... or sorrow."
"I understand sorrow. I comprehend it in its greatest depths." Jyggalag corrected her. "In its purest form, Nirn is built upon sorrow. The pity of Aedra, the scorn of Daedra... and I... I have overseen all of it. Sorrow, decay, entropy; all mortal things, from the beings who walk to the creeping things to the very stars themselves experience it."
The former Keeper of the Vigil paid attention and internalized his words. They were more profound than much of what she'd learned of the world growing up.
Daedra were all evil, as evidenced especially by Mehrunes Dagon, Boethiah, Mephala, and Molag Bal.
Aedra were all good, even if Dibella's sexually indulgent temples had little girls act as their sybils as opposed to Mara's chastity which would contradict Dibella. Nobody bat an eye at that in most of their cultures.
Heck, Akatosh created the Dragons. Alduin was a part of him, but he was considered good because he was an Aedra.
And yet, Carcette was still conflicted with some of her instruction from the past.
"Tell me, Carcette..." Jyggalag seemed to have read her thoughts, and spoke accordingly. "What is it to you that defines a Daedra as opposed to an Aedra? What is it that makes us seem so distantly different in your eyes? Are we not both Et'Ada?"
"The Aedra made the world." Carcette put it simply.
"Did they?" Jyggalag asked her again. "Was Arkay not a mortal, himself, once?"
"Well... I suppose..."
"Was Talos not a man himself?"
"That depends on whether you support Talos or not." Carcette shrugged.
"So a mortal can dictate who is or isn't a God?"
Carcette realized how blasphemous that sounded and blushed. "N-no! That isn't what I meant..."
Jyggalag leaned to one side. "How do you account for Magnus? For the Magna-Ge? And how about your own people, the Bretons, who are large advocates for Y'iffre and Sai and Phynaster? Would you consider them Daedra for existing apart from the Imperial Pantheon? Were your mother's ancestors Daedra worshippers then, for following Y'iffre?"
Carcette held her head in her hands. "I... I don't know."
"It is mortal classification, nothing more." Jyggalag informed her. "Your Stendarr and I are both Et'Ada. Just as you are a Breton. Does being a Breton make you a Reachman? Indeed not. You are related, but different. As you should be. Though, you are still a Breton, as they are. Your will is of your own, as our wills are of our own. All is as it should be, in that regard. Fate governs all, but we are free to respond and act according to our true selves. But we must maintain order, always."
Carcette lowered her hands from her head and looked back up at the courteous Daedra. "I... never thought of it that way."
"Of course not. You were raised in High Rock and then lived in Skyrim, where you would hear what you've been accustomed to hearing. You would have no other point of reference. Had you been born a Dunmer in Morrowind, you would have followed Boethiah, Mephala, Namira, or another 'Daedra.' A mortal can only see a fragment of a puzzle. Even the Et'Ada cannot see all. We are not the Godhead." Jyggalag stated.
It was a difficult thing to consider, but if he truly was the Daedric Prince of Order, who scorned lies and falsehoods, what would he have to lie to her for?
Carcette walked around the armour and looked again at the purity of its design, and was taken away. "This armour... is it made of crystal?"
"It is forged from my crystal colonials." Jyggalag confirmed. "It is an armour blessed with the power of Jyggalag. Myself. Any mortal who would wear it would never feel fatigue, nor pain, nor sustain any injury."
"That's incredible." Carcette marvelled.
"Ah, but it would be incredibly imbalanced were that the only case. To compensate, it slowly saps the life of the wearer. Though, this effect is only active in the heat of battle."
Carcette looked from the armour, back to the kind Daedra. "Are you... are you giving me this armour?"
Jyggalag was silent for a moment, but took to explain after a few moments had gone by. "Not exactly. I have three tasks for you to perform. Three. Three, the number of perfection." Jyggalag proposed, pressing his fingers together as he leaned forward. "Succeed, and I will name you my champion on Nirn and bless you with great power. Are you willing to exalt the God of Order?"
Carcette was unsure at first, but at this point she felt that she didn't have much to lose. "Certainly."
"The first task I have for you is thus: join Inigo the Brave, and go unto Shor's Stone and unto Kynesgrove, and send the citizens to Windhelm." Jyggalag lifted his index finger to emphasize the number one.
"The second task I have for you is thus: you are to descend the Windhelm Dungeons and clear the ruins of the ancient city beneath Windhelm of the Vampires that which dwell. You will understand eventually why." Jyggalag signaled two.
"...And the third?" Carcette asked.
"The third task is to make a pilgrimage to my Shrine when the deeds are done. Then you shall become my Champion of Order." Jyggalag confirmed with a third finger, forming the number three.
"Where is your shrine?" Carcette inquired.
A small smirk found itself upon the enigmatic Daedra's face. "It lies West of Dawnstar and Northwest of the Windward Ruins near the precipice leading to the ocean. It has been there for a very, very long time, covered in snow and ice. My followers were long since slaughtered by Vigilants of Stendarr."
Carcette's eyebrows raised. Vigilants killed Jyggalags followers? Of course they did. Those people were Daedra Worshippers. Scum to be purged. That was when Carcette was hit by a fearful realization: she was working with a Daedra right now. If she were to champion Jyggalag, she would be the very thing she'd devoted her life to hunting: a Daedra Worshipper.
Her heart froze for a second and the image of the deceased Cura lying in the bed with her Amulet of Stendarr wrapped around her interlocked hands flashed through her mind.
Meridia was a Daedra, and Cura had always exalted her; and yet the Vigil could be persuaded to overlook that due to Meridia's stance on the Undead.
Yet, it seemed Meridia was doing something to guard Cura's body; perhaps her soul, as well, wherever she may be.
The former Keeper wondered if by accepting Jyggalag, perhaps she could be a greater aid to those around her rather than a war priestess stuck in a Shrine Hall or a prisoner of bloodlust.
"My power is holding Mehrunes Dagon back for now, but it will not last. You must act quickly." Jyggalag snapped his fingers and the armour shone with a brilliant white light and dematerialized into a ball of white energy before Carcette's very eyes. The energy then began to warp and rushed towards her, slithering and swirling around her, covering her body. The coldness of the air disappeared, as did the aching and throbbing residual pain from her scrap with Delphine. Once the light faded, Carcette was covered head to toe in the Armour.
"The Armour of the Bastion." Jyggalag named it thusly. "Don it well and restore order in my name. Fulfill your tasks dutifully, and then you shall become my Champion. And then, we will take the battle directly to Oblivion. To the belly of the lizard."
"The belly of the lizard?" Carcette wondered what that meant.
"Do you think Mehrunes Dagon is the only threat here? No. Molag Bal lurks underneath the surface of the water like an engorged, yet famished Alligator, seeking his rebirth as the Dragon breaks within his domain. But this is yet to come. Be Vigilant." Jyggalag confirmed.
"I... I will do my best, Lord Jyggalag." Carcette said with uncertainty as the gray world began to fade around her.
When her eye next opened, Carcette's field of vision was slightly reduced and her head was covered. Her cheeks felt cold steel pressed against them.
When she sat upright, she could see that her body was armoured. The gray colour was a dead giveaway.
She donned the Armour of the Bastion!
Inigo sat at the side of the long table and held his map in place with his ebony dagger. "Shor's Stone is a small, small town, so I think it should be easy to evacuate the people to Riften."
Mjoll shook her head. "Riften isn't safe! With the damned Thieves lurking there, they'll take advantage of any refugees we send! And we might end up drawing the Daedras' attention there."
Lucien scoffed. "Of course they would. Mjoll is absolutely right. It's a rubbish plan."
"Any brighter ideas, Lucien, buddy?" Marcurio asked.
"Yes, the floor's all yours." Delphine snarled, growing impatient.
Lucien tapped his fingers on the stone table. "I wish Cura were here... this would normally be the part where she insists we go all in, ride or die to push the Daedra back instead of relocating people, and then I'd bring up the open portal and she'd say I was right... and then I'd feel smart again..." he held his head in his hands and leaned forward on the table. "I miss her already..."
"If the Daedra will keep on coming, what can we do?" Vilja asked, focusing on that harrowing point.
"Easy. We'll just keep killing them until they get the message." Delphine stated confidently.
"Haha! Maybe we'll send their body parts back to Dagon." Cosnach laughed as he chugged another Mead bottle.
"Aren't you paying attention? Mehrunes Dagon is already here!" Esbern chastised.
"Something must still be holding him back, though." Darkeethus proposed.
Stenvar nodded. "Yeah; if I were a Daedra with that much power, the only thing that would hold me back from destroying the continent in an afternoon would be a stronger being."
"Jyggalag." came Carcette's voice from the side room. She removed the helmet so her identity could be known and the group was collectively shocked.
"Uh... care to explain?" Delphine brusquely demanded.
Inigo raised his hand. "Yes, I too would like to know where you got this armour... and where I can get one too!"
"I just told you: Jyggalag. Now, we don't have much time." Carcette began. "For the people at Shor's Stone and at Kynesgrove, even... we have to get them all to Windhelm."
"Whoa, Whoa, Whoa! Now you trust a Daedra? What happened to all that 'mercy of Stendarr does not extend to Daedra worshippers' stuff?" Mjoll was shocked by this revelation.
"I'm no longer part of the Vigil." Carcette excused before turning to Inigo. "Jyggalag told me to go with you and the others. He named you by name, Inigo the Brave."
Vilja raised a brow with suspicion. "I don't like this. Can we trust Jyggalag? Isn't he Sheogorath?"
"If I'm not mistaken, Jyggalag is the Daedric Prince of Order." Esbern recalled.
"Pssh. Boring." Cosnach slammed down a bottle of ale.
Erik looked at Carcette and accepted what she said. "When the world falls apart and you look for order, you find it." he stood up and walked over to Carcette. "I believe her. We should listen. The Daedric Prince of Order certainly wouldn't cause havoc. He has an interest in stopping Mehrunes Dagon, I'd imagine."
Delphine crossed her arms and nudged her head towards Alduin's Wall behind her. "Yeah? And where was this 'Prince of Order' when the Dragons were running amok? Hmm?"
Annekke shook her head. "I don't care about the Dragons. If this Daedra offers us an opportunity to save my daughter, I'd give my own soul for it!"
"Inigo, you were basically Cura's second-in-command. I appoint you leader of the group in her name." Carcette touched the blue Khajiit's shoulder.
Inigo blushed. "I... I am unworthy..."
"Now wait just a doggone minute!" Delphine shot up from her chair. "I'm the Grandmaster here! I call the shots, not you! Me!"
"Grandmaster of the Skyguard, not of the Dovahkiin." Inigo laughed and pointed at Carcette. "I hate to inform you, Delphine but she was literally Cura's Keeper."
"This is nonsense!" Delphine protested. "This woman holds no authority in this temple! Hell, she doesn't even hold authority in her little backwards hunting troupe either anymore! The Dovahkiin is dead. The decisions fall to me, now."
"Not to us, though." Vilja protested. "We're not part of your group! I'd rather kiss a Skeever's behind than listen to anything you say!"
Darkeethus tried to pacify the matters. "Please, please, let's just calm-"
"Yes, why don't you? I'm sure there's a few Skeevers in these walls - maybe you'll catch a case of Rockjoint and be out of my hair?" Delphine brashly responded.
"How dare you!" Vilja squeaked.
Lucien raised his voice. "Delphine, you can't boss everyone around! We're not your playthings, you bloody control freak!"
Mjoll tried to get a word in. "Ugh! Can you all just get back to what's important?!"
"Our homeland is in danger!" Stenvar tried to bring things back.
Cosnach laughed and Erik looked away, embarassed for the lot of them.
"It was my inititative that saved Skyrim from Alduin!" Delphine expressed her anger. "You don't like to hear it, but it's true! Cura would have been screwed without my help! I did more for her than this crass bitch ever has!" She gestured to Carcette when she declared this bold assertion.
"I think I might be ready to kill her." Carcette looked up to the ceiling and traced the stones with her gaze in an attempt to maintain her composure.
"Oh, what, Breton? You want to go for Round 2? Fine by me! I could always use a punching bag!" Delphine laughed.
Esbern was growing exhausted by the useless display of bravado. "Please, everybody. If we fight amongst ourselves we may as well just surrender to Mehrunes! Do you think the Daedric Army is fighting amongst itself? No! If it were, we would not be together right now worrying about family and the fate of the land."
"What do we do, then? Do you propose we cast a vote? We pick two candidates for the leader and vote amongst the group?" Lucien suggested. Given the talk of Jyggalag before, he began to wonder if the Prince placed the orderly idea in his head just there.
Marcurio seemed to agree. "Yeah, the egghead is right. It's gotta be better than having a duel to the death over nonsense. I'm in. Let's cast votes."
"Thanks, Marcurio." Lucien was relieved that his old university classmate had his back.
Everybody unanimously agreed, and even Delphine relented upon hearing the idea. "Fine. You want to vote? Let's vote. The Candidates are me and the cat." Seeing as there were eight members of the Skyguard and only four members unaffiliated, she should be a cinch to win the occasion anyways.
Esbern sat between the groups, and the Skyguard at Delphine's side of the table, and Carcette supported Inigo at his side, along with Lucien and Vilja. The elder was acting as the Arbiter of the vote. "We must get through this quickly and head to Shor's Stone. This is a vote between the candidates for the position of overall leadership, acting Dragonborn Cura's vicar until further notice."
"On this side we have Inigo the Brave, trusted ally and constant companion to Cura. He has helped her through many harsh times and arduous challenges."
"Sadly he didn't do much for the last one." Cosnach scoffed as he took a swig of his ale. Mjoll looked at him with offense at that last remark. She looked at Inigo, who did not take well to it either. She wanted to reach across the table and touch his tightened hand comfortingly. Lucien gently rubbed Inigos shoulder and Vilja flipped the middle finger at Cosnach in retaliation.
Esbern continued unimpeded. "On this side, we have Delphine, acting Grandmaster of Cura's faction, the Skyguard. She is sworn to carry out the Dragonborn's will and protect the Empire."
"A shame she couldn't protect Cura." Carcette returned a jab in the other direction.
"Careful; you might need surgery to widen your mouth if you want to puit both feet in it." Delphine spat back.
"Please, enough! You're all acting so infantile!" Esbern admonished both warring parties. "Now, vote! Who is in favour of Delphine?"
Esbern raised his hand. Delphine has been his constant companion going way back. He knew her work ethic far better than Inigo's.
Annekke was hesitant, but she didn't really know either candidate very well. Since Delphine was the one who recruited her, she reluctantly raised her hand.
Stenvar raised his hand for the same reason. He was oath-bound as a Blade of the Skyguard.
"Don't want the damn cat in charge." Cosnach raised his hand.
Delphine raised her own hand.
5 votes.
That was certainly less than Delphine was expecting. She looked around at the mutineers around her. Surely they weren't going to vote for Iniigo?
"Hey! You can't vote for yourself! That's cheating!" Vilja called her out. "Foul! I call foul! Inigo wins!"
"Inigo can vote for himself, too. Maybe he might actually seem somewhat relevant then." Delphine mocked his endeavours.
"I would not raise yourself so high, Delphine. You started off as a crummy barmaid. Cura elevated you to where you are now." Inigo reminded her.
"Those in favour of Inigo?" Esbern asked.
Carcette raised her hand quickly. It was her idea to begin with, and she knew in her heart that this was what Cura would have wanted. Even if it would fall through in the end, she was going to stay true to Cura.
Lucien raised his hand. "Inigo, I'm with you to the moons and back, buddy! Don't you worry."
Vilja raised her hand. Inigo was her friend, and she trusted him a whole lot more in the brief time she knew the group than she would ever trust Delphine.
Mjoll raised her hand for Inigo. "I've travelled with him before; he's a funny guy, but very skilled as a warrior. I'd trust him with my life!"
Erik raised his hand. "I agree with what Carcette said earlier. Cura would put Inigo in charge. Vote whoever you want, but he's the real deal. He travelled with the Dragonborn longer than any of us for crying out loud!"
Marcurio raised his hand, surprising Lucien. "Lucien may be bad with women, but he often makes the right decisions. He wants Inigo to lead this, so I'm with the cat all the way."
Darkeethus raised his hand, lastly. "I think we should give him a chance. I have a good feeling about Inigo."
That was a total of 7 votes.
"Thank you, all of you! This has touched my heart in ways you cannot imagine. I appreciate all the support." Inigo exclaimed.
"Oh, look. He didn't have to vote for himself." Vilja stuck her tongue out at the very bitter Delphine.
"I can't believe this madness!" Delphine exclaimed furiously. "There was clearly something misunderstood here. I'm the Grandmaster of the Skyguard! You - " she pointed at Mjoll, Erik, Marcurio and Darkeethus. "- are sworn to obey me! How dare you vote against me!"
"I can safely say neither Tolan nor Adalvald would have voted against me." Carcette responded smugly.
Mjoll crossed her arms. "We all agreed on a vote. This is for the tasks ahead. We will follow you, but you will also follow Inigo. It's that simple."
"But - "
"Delphine, enough." Esbern snapped her out of it. "The vote has been cast, and Inigo is in charge. He will lead us into the mission ahead - however long and arduous it may be."
"We have wasted enough time here! All right, everybody! It is time to be the heroes we were always meant to be! Time to protect Shor's Stone and Kynesgrove's inhabitants! Who is with me?" Inigo had already begun to take lead, heading outside. The allies and the Skyguard began to march behind him with a loud "YEA!" .
Delphine sighed as she sprinted in attempt to catch up with the troop. "I miss Cura."