Chapter N313: Intrude
Jon had left in the night from Solitude, and his Lady. It disappointing him that he was traveling alone, perhaps made him nervous as well, but someone had to advise Elisif. Skyrim couldn't be led in a war by a socialite that only knew how to entertain. It wasn't her fault, but it was all she was currently. After Lydia got through with her, she would be more he knew.
The streets of Solitude were mostly empty, and the ride away from the Blue Palace and out of the city was a smooth transition. The power though his illusion enchantment on his crown only aided it further. Between the college and the vampire illusion master, he had a full compliment of spells. An invisibility and muffle was cast, and extended over his Valkyrie steed as he rode once they breached the city perimeter. After all the gate guards still had to see him as he approached to be let out, but they were about all that did.
Valkyrie silently thundered down the road, and turned to go up the mountain path to whatever was up the hill. The only thing that gave away their position was the clumps thrown up from the gait. Jon pulled her back down some ways from the compound, out of the view of any guard or patrol. His illusions dispelled, he didn't want to test if they had any kind of magical detection closer in. He may have already tripped them. It would be no matter, as a nice test of their reactions would be nice.
Jon pulled into the woods along side the path and dismounted, beckoning Valkyrie to take off and disappear until whistled for. His Bosmer cloak was wrapped around him, and what little light there was in the waning cycle wrapped around it, and blended him to whatever colors were around. He traveled more off the path, deeper into the forest before turning and making way towards the compound he smelled further up the small mountain. It took perhaps an hour to trudge up the hills the few miles to the target.
Around the perimeter was clear cut, an obvious defense to prevent people such as him from sneaking up to and in. There was still cover enough however to spy towards, especially when one had dragon eyes to spy with. Jon got as close to the edge of the forest as he dared, then took a knee in the snow with his cloak matching the ambient drift.
The cold ate him, but he relied only on his training and previous experience to make the approach. He eyed though the gaps in the trees. It was only a humble place, a square fort with a small wall, and only a couple buildings within them. There were Dominion troops paroling the wall in golden Altmeri plate, carved intricately and taking the form of overlapping feathers in most places.
Jon spied no reaction to his original approach. Then he waited for a few more minutes before resuming his tricks. He went invisible by spell, was muffled, and magika was flowing though the illusion enchantment on the stromcrown to amplify it. The spells were low power, for him especially with the power of Magnus, and he could keep them up all night if need be.
He waited for minutes more, and he still spied no reaction. They had some technological innovations using magic, but not many it seemed. They had no way to detect magic being used, save perhaps for some powerful source. It was why he was only using the two simple spells, and dismounted much further back.
Jon was not going to completely trust the magic and his own simple technology. He pulled back in a direct line to the compound. Humanoid eyes were much better at seeing motions from side to side, so one had to be well out of visual range before making such maneuvers. When he did make those maneuvers, he took cover behind a thick fir, and threw on his thicker, darker, Greybeard cloak. Then he recast his simple spells and cut across.
Jon came to the path and again halted to wait and see what would happen. Perhaps a patrol or some such, but he didn't hear nor see nor smell any such thing. Satisfied none would have a chance to detect him he walked across to the other side of the forest to scout from that angle. He saw a cliff face on the side he was approaching. If the place had a basement, then it might have a back way in situated at the bottom of the outcropping sitting within the mountain range.
He saw much the same as he did from the other side. A patrol passing, the soft glow of some lamps candles and lights, a bit of smoke from the chimneys of the stone buildings. Jon backtracked again, this time aiming for the bottom of the outcrop. It took another hour or so to find the gully entrance and head down it. He cast a bow silently, and held it ready in case there was a patrol. His invisibility would dispel on the first shot, but he would have that advantage.
After another trek, he found what he was looking for. There was a cave entrance and already he could smell the frost troll inside. No wonder the left no patrol. For most the troll was enough, though he was not most. He quietly stepped in and found the troll tucked in a snow drift, sleeping. Jon used his advantage to line a shot with its head and let loose. Is cloak dropped, but the troll didn't even register that before the summoned arrow struck true and pierced it's third eye.
A quick look around showed a pile of bodies and bones, along with some loot. Coin, a couple half rotted book he didn't take, and even a peculiar gem. It came in it's own case, and opening revealed a pointed gem, almost glowing a pinkish purple. Jon knew it was something special, and that the frost troll obviously didn't know what they had. The Thalmor obviously didn't check to closely, as this was just a place they dumped bodies. He could tell that further in was a basement for the compound above.
The problem was the way further back was up a cave wall, and that wall was covered in ice. He had no ice climbing equipment. Then an idea come to him. He had a telekinesis spell from Tolfdir. He cast his spell and then targeted it to his boots, pulling them up, and his body with them. It felt ridiculous, and he almost lost balanced and tumbled mid air. Eventually he landed feet first in the entrance, and cut the spell to recast his invisibility. His muffle never quit though the ordeal.
Jon crept though the path in a half crouch, and the cave ended with a ladder up though a hatch. He removed his cloaks temporarily to get them out of the way, and then took the ladder up to the top before gently cracking the hatch. A look around showed him the hatch was tucked into a small alcove, perfect for exiting without being seen by any occupants, and there were a couple. One was certainly battered going by the iron permeating the air.
He slipped out, nary a sound, and took the wall to peak around the corner. There were a few cells, and only one was truly occupied. By the smell they were tortured recently, but that could only go on for so long before even the torturer needed a break. The Thalmor was at their desk, looking over the paperwork from the bout. Jon slipped in and made his way though the chamber, seeing every other empty cell splattered in blood.
He was behind the Altmer, judging them though they knew not the doom right behind them. Jon's off hand came around and latched around the Thalmor's mouth. His illusion was broken, but it mattered not as the Deadric dagger in his sword hand entered their throat. It was a straight dagger, forged of ebony by mortal hands in a fire induced with heart of Dremora. It was a pitch black blade, with red runes of Oblivion decorating it.
The slicing motion sealed the Altmer's fate, fully severing the blood to his brain before he could even scream. Jon had used a paralyze spell to keep them in place, and only kept a light grip on them until the life drained from them. The paralyze subsequently dispelled and Jon gently lowered the Thalmor to the floor with only some sound.
It was enough to wake the Breton shackled to the wall of the cell. He looked up with a start and saw Jon greeting him with a finger over his mouth once the haze cleared in the dim light of the dungeon. Some wizard, but anything was better than nothing. Jon held that finger out, telling them to wait a moment, and he nodded with some hope for the first time he had entered the cursed place.
Jon eyed around, looking first at the work the Thalmor was doing. The Breton knew the score then. The wizard was here for information, on the Thalmor. If he got a rescue by lucky chance, there was no skin of his back. He wouldn't have told him to wait if he wasn't.
They were asking him about a man named Esburn, and apparently he lived in the Ratway. He would ask the man once he got him out. He picked up the dossier, and looked in the chest beside the table for more. There was one on a Delphine, and even Ulfric Stormcloak, Tullius, Elisif, a bunch of people that had some kind of influence in Skyrim. Notably, he didn't see one on the dragon born, though that didn't mean it didn't exist.
He shoveled the wealth of intelligence into his pack. As he did the door up top opened and a voice called out, "Third Emissary Tulindil, I have your-"
He stopped dead when he looked down from the balcony carrying a tray, and saw Jon just getting ready to fire, casting and stringing his bound bow in one smooth motion.
"Wait!" The Breton yelled as softly as he could, "He showed...me mercy."
Jon's bow was strung, but he held his fire. The Bosmer stared back, and Jon judged he wasn't really a servant of the Thalmor. He could spell the spycraft on him, and that mean a spy against the Thalmor given his position as an apparent go fetcher.
He dispelled his bow, but only motioned with his head to get down the stairs. The Bosmer understood he was now going with the wizard, and his cover was well and truly blown. Just being near a dead Third Emissary was enough to get him dead, even if they didn't accuse him of doing it. He would be thoroughly questioned, for certain, and other things might come out. Best to just make a break and report, he decided.
Jon threw his heavy pack back on, and then rummaged the dead Thalmor for a key of some kind. He found one and opened the cell, then undid the prisoner's shackles. He reached into his potion pouch and pulled health and stamina potions, which the Breton happily took. After a couple swigs, the potions did their work and while he still looked battered, he didn't feel it as much.
Jon motioned for the two men to head back towards the hatch and they both complied. He brought up the rear, and all three crept back though the hatch, Jon finally closing it behind. He motioned them forward, and to the ledge atop the back wall of the cave.
"Dead." Jon gruffed when they hesitated at the sight of a sleeping frost toll.
The Bosmer was a little more hesitant, but the Breton had no compunctions. The man had no reason to lie at that point, and there was a pile of loot in the one corner. No gold it looked like, obliviously already claimed, but boots and other articles besides. At least enough to get him covered from the Skyrim winter.
"Jump, or I push. It is not far." Jon ordered. He didn't have the time. They had to split as soon as possible. It would be at least an hour or two walk before he would be comfortable calling for his horse in the dead of the Skyrim night. They would hear for miles around, and they cave they were currently in would be the first place the Thalmor check when they actually register the infiltration.
The Bosmer did it, even tucking and rolling. It was not what he signed up for. The exact opposite in fact. The point was to be out of danger, but now he was in it. He had nightmares about being found out and thrown down there. The frost troll thankfully stayed dead as he came back up. The only question was who the big Redguard in robes was...he then remembered hearing though the trees about a Redguard in robes. Wait, wasn't the…
Jon landed behind him, and the thud of the weight jump started him from his thoughts. The Breton finished outfitting himself as best he could and said, "Thanks, friends."
Jon had to know, "Esburn in the Ratways?"
The Breton huffed, and held up placating hands in defense, "I Think, there an Esburn in the Ratways. I Think, I heard that name. A bunch of crazy old people live down there."
Jon nodded, satisfied with the answer. Relief washed over the Breton, like his ordeal was finally over because it was. He said, "Look, if you make your way out to Riften, you'll be good with the guild, I'll make sure of it. Now not to be rude after a lucky rescue-"
"We should go, split up. After you." Jon said. The Breton took off quickly. After a moment the Bosmer tried to leave as well.
"Not so fast. Who are you?" Jon nearly threatened.
The Bosmer stopped in his tracks, then turned back. He said, "Malborn...I work for Delphine. No point in trying to lie to you."
"Who is Delphine?" Jon pressed.
"The owner of the sleeping Giant Inn. She'll want to talk to you, Dragonborn."
Jon nodded slowly, "Oh yes. And I will have words for her. Tell her the Dragonborn comes, and he is not pleased."
Malborn nodded nervously, then turned to make a break for it. Just before he got to the entrance, Jon halted him again. He said, "That man. What did he mean I would be good with the guild?"
Malborn chuckled hesitantly. Was this guy born under a rock? He answered, "The ah, only guild is Riften is the Thieves Guild."
"Go now." Was all Jon said.
Malborn ran for it. He would run all the way to Riverwood to pass the word, hopefully before the Dragonborn got there. He always thought Delphine would get had someway. That over the years she was loosing it, becoming sloppy, radical and desperate for purpose all while dodging the Thalmor. He was certainly no friend of the Thalmor, but this would be the last he worked for her, he decided. He would get had as well.
Jon left it a few moments more, then disappearing himself into the Skyrim ice and snow. He smiled as he left the cave, reminiscing on his Lady's last words to him. It was a cutting remark, a reminder to pick up his bounty in Falkreath.
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"Halt! State your business, Thalmor!" The Guard of Solitude spit out before the legionnaire beside him could do anything else.
The party of Thalmor was just at the entrance to the Castle Dour courtyard, the outer wall of the complex. They were halted in their tracks. Their lead turned her head and sneared under her hood. While bothersome, they weren't exactly without right. She could only respond as contemptuously as she could.
"I am First Emissary Elenwen, of the Thalmor Mission to Skyrim. Under the terms of the White-Gold Concordat, I demand to speak to General Tullius."
"Letem through. She has the right." the legionnaire said.
"We'll be watching, Thalmor." The guard warned.
Elenwen made a show of scoffing and continued on her way. The next brute to challenge her might get a face full of lightning. She led we way at the front of her three armed and armored guards. An assassination had taken place the night before, and she would confront the General about it. She crossed the courtyard and thankfully the only ones standing watch were legion that knew not to make and obstacle of themselves. The eyes of the guardsmen never left them however, and she felt their gaze bore into her from all sides. They mattered not to her, nor were they a threat.
She entered the keep proper and marched straight into General Tullius's office. He was expecting her by that point, and had Legate Rikke next to him. They were both armed and armored in that sad excuse for armor they were going to use. She waved off two guards, and kept one with her as the door was shut.
Tullius huffed with an annoyed expression on his face, "Can I help you First Emissary?"
"Don't be coy, General. You know exactly what this is about." She said.
Tullius looked even more annoyed, "No actually. I don't. Care to explain?"
"I just find it odd that you were consorting with a certain Thane in robes, then that Thane disappears in the night last night."
"Get to the point." Legate Rikke said. Tullius nodded his assent.
Elenwen gave a sly grin, "My Third emissary was assassinated last night in his office."
Tullius didn't understand if that was supposed to be some kind of snare. He shrugged and said, "Do you think I had something to do with this? I didn't even know about it until just now."
"Don't play the fool. It is unbecoming."
"Are you making an official accusation?"
"As I said, I find it odd."
"Do you even have proof the 'Thane in Robes,' because you don't want to call him what he actually is, even did this? Was there some kind of shout my watches didn't hear from the mountain like they did the last time? Why in oblivion would I have any part of starting a Second Great War while I'm dealing with dragons and a rebellion at the damn same time? You really think me that much of a fool?"
Elenwen had no reply. The General didn't know anything, but she had to press regardless. A member of embassy staff dies and the only logical way to point was towards the historic rival. She would be derelict in her duty if she didn't at least make an underhanded accusation.
"What exactly was your interactions with him." She finally came up with. She lost assets, agents, and an entire team even go dark. Her ears would need reapplied all over the Blue Palace at this point. Only one man could have assassinated the Third Emissary.
"By what right is that your business?"
"By right of treaty, and the ban on Talos worship." A Redguard, any kind of manish Dragonborn was close enough.
Tullius huffed again, "Potema was being summoned in the basement, and he's apparently some honorable hero; I'm in charge of defending this city. We had no choice but to 'interact.'"
Elenwen tried to press more. That was another thing. They had ears in that hall, but caught nothing of what was said past a certain point, and up to a certain point. The time the Thane could be confirmed to be in the hall. But they never got ears in this office, though they have eyes outside and knew he had entered.
Tullius cut her off before she could, "The first time was to come here and tell me to get bent. That he would never help an Empire that tired to take his head. Told me to, and I quote, stay the fuck out of his way. He's certainly no friend of mine."
Half a lie, half a truth, unfortunately for Elenwen she judged the truth. Tullius truly didn't know anything, and the only saving grace of the debacle so far was that she believed, thanked Auri-El for even, that the Empire tried to kill the Dragonborn, their chosen. That could certainly play into the Dominion's favor. She smiled warmly at the General, and her own musings. It seemed perhaps the gods favored them.
Tullius rolled his eyes, "Perhaps you should consider any course of action that would anger him thoroughly. He is the Dragonborn after all. Take it from personal experience. You might find even the chance of that ire ages you prematurely."
Elenwen laughed outright, then said, "Very well General Tullius. I will leave you to your unimportant business."
Tullius pinched the bridge of his nose as Elenwen promptly turned and left, without even closing to door behind her. He whispered over, "Promote Hadvar to Legate. Be a lot harder for them to get their hands on him the higher his rank is. You know they'll try."
"Yes sir." She whispered back.
Then they heard, "Oh, Elenwen, how good to see you."
"You as well Elisif. My, those are beautiful garments."
"They came from Radiant Raiment. The sisters do such good work."
Elenwen would never shop with those impure mutts, but she smiled all the same, "They look exquisite. I'll leave you to your important work, my Jarl. I'm sure your very busy."
"Indeed, Good day. First Emissary."
Tullius huffed again, the early day already starting to wear on. He expected this at some point, and it was walking up his steps and entering his office. At least she was polite enough to close the door. Her escort was the Dragonborn's Lady, and the unhappy expression under her hood seemed more than for show in the presence of the Thalmor, seeing as how the Thalmor were gone.
Tullius bowed his head slightly, "Jarl Elisif. How may I help you."
Elisif crossed her arms. She said, "General, I am here to inform you, and the Empire, that this system only works when you have our consent to rule. It goes back to the founding of the Third Empire itself, and goes back to the founding of the Mede dynasty. You are very quickly losing that Consent, General Tullius, and I have personally reached my limit."
Tullius's expression when dark, "Are you threatening something Jarl? Rebellion?"
She didn't flinch, "Perhaps. Queen or not, I am Jarl of Solitude, of Haafingar hold, I command nothing apparently while you occupy my city. No more. If you wish to regain my consent, then you will spend the rest of this day explaining every one of your orders to my guard. What I do not know, you will teach. Only then will I be satisfied with remaining loyal to the Empire, one of the last who is."
Tullius breathed deep again. It was obvious who was whispering in her ear. Good actually. Make the Thalmor think the Dragonborn really is hostile to the Empire. Make them think he's sowing more discord. He saw the determination in Elisif eye. He smiled then, of course the Dragonborn was molding her into some kind of warrior queen. Both to legitimize her claim, and for impending conflicts once the dragons were dealt with. Perhaps he was a little too tyrannical, outright ignoring the Jarl of the city and any concerns she had. It wasn't how it was supposed to be, he knew. Damn the Thalmor he thought.
He started, "Well, first and foremost my main concern, and my legionaries concern, is logistics. It's a simple fact of war that an army marches on it's gullet. Starving troops can't fight."
"That is intuitive." Elisif said as she walked up to the war table in the center of the office. "I imagine having the extra hands of a large city guard eases strain on logistics."
Tullius nodded, "The hardest part is always moving and protecting the stuff. And you need hands for that. Both to move, and to guard."
"Something my Guards are good at. Now exactly how have you deployed them. Even I can not get a clear picture where my banners actually are."
Tullius began pointing out deployments, both of his legion, and of her guard, and explaining what those deployments meant and how they fit into a picture of a wider strategy. The tutoring began in earnest, and continued for the rest of the day.