TheCzarsHussar

Maggie and Samuel Imperial City evening When Maggie was sure that the hunter and no other mortal enemy was following her, she turned a corner into a blind alley and vanished from sight completely. From there she disappeared into the sewers and emerged again in the front garden of her house. As she reached her front doorstep, smelling of sewer became the least of her problems. Still cloaked, she observed with horror that her nightblade guards had been bound and gagged. From the shadows she tried to use telekinesis to undo their bonds, but the ropes had also been enchanted with silence bindings. It was too sophisticated for even an intelligent hunter like the Vigilant. The Order was moving in on her. Her father might be waiting inside for her, to get rid of her on the Order's own terms. That hunter had just been a tightening of the noose, a warning that she couldn't run. No, not her father. He would never do such dirty work himself if he had a willing blade. It would be Samuel. Maggie's mind moved from afraid to desperate. She could go... nowhere. Alinor might have been beyond her father's reach, but she had made the Thalmor her enemies, too. Briefly she thought of the wizard Skjari. He was powerful enough to protect her, but wouldn't jeopardize the empress for her sake. If she was exposed as a vampire, the palace was the last place where she would find refuge. On her own, Maggie knew she wouldn't make it for long. Perhaps she would survive, but as a feral creature, which would be worse than destruction. There was nothing to do but face her fate. She left the unconscious guards where they were and entered the house. Samuel would be waiting in the garden. From the very beginning he'd chosen the one place she felt safe, felt herself, and had staked it out as not belonging to her any more than her own life did. Maggie first went upstairs to drink from her locked cabinet and change into a clean outfit. There was no rush, and she wouldn't let him see her rattled. Even if this was the end, she would meet it as a Colovian ought to do. In loose silk trousers and a sleeveless shirt, Maggie finally went down to the garden. Samuel didn't bother to conceal himself this time. She saw him standing next to her own blade, struck into the ground. Smiling serenely, she asked, "Am I to fall on my own sword?" "You're late," he replied. No emotions was to be seen on his face, or heard in his voice, other than that he wanted her to take the sword. Drawing his own blade, dark ebony with silver trimmings, he took a few steps back from the sword in the ground. The moment she reached out to take her blade, he shot past her, leaving a small, but notable but in her left underarm. A drop of blood fell of the tip of his blade; he had drawn First Blood. Maggie's instinct was to remain still and let the end come quickly. She looked at the blood on her arm, mesmerized for a moment at the small line of it sliding down her skin. It was so beautiful. She had always thought so. Her eyes returned to Samuel. No, her father wasn't going to let her end quickly. Even to the end he wanted to humiliate her, to show how inadequate she was to the bloodline of Darius Bathory. She'd promised Samuel that she wouldn't make it easy on him. Slowly taking up the slim Akaviri shortsword, Maggie set herself for the next attack, poising the blade over her shoulder with its point towards Samuel while her left hand began to glow with the green bloom of a spell. As soon as he saw the spell apepar in her hand, he shot in her direction again, ducking under the instinctive trust against his head, and left another cut in the palm of her left hand. The green bloom started to fade in and out as he left another cut, this one very shallow, barely even drawing blood, at her ankle. Once again, he took a step away from her, staying just inside the reach of her blade. Maggie lowered the blade. This was a useless exercise. "Make an end, Guardian. That is what you're here to do, isn't it? Or do you only intend to weaken me so that the hunter can claim me? A real pity, to think of my head as a trophy for one so humorless." "No, Rose, it is not," with his own blade down at his side, he responded with a similar distance as he had when he told her she was late. It was hard to say what he responded to; his purpose or the hunter claiming her. "Fight back." She might have done it for a lesser opponent, even her brother Jem, who liked to brag about his swordsmanship. Defiant, however, Maggie threw her sword down. It clattered across the paving stones and landed at Samuel's feet. "You all like to say what a liability I am, that I'm a loose element that must be brought into line. It isn't so. I've only ever wanted to be useful to our Order. If I can do so by dying..." She couldn't finish. It hurt her too much. Samuel raised an eyebrow, lowering his own blade. With a quick movement of his foot, he flicked her blade up in the air and took a hold of it. He then threw it in her direction; it landed on the ground before her feet. "This is a training exercise, not an execution. Now, take up your blade and fight back," he raised his own blade once more. Maggie studied Samuel, doubt entering her mind. Her father was typically more efficient than this. She took the sword up again slowly, and made a half circle, loosening her wrist. Watching for any sign of movement from Samuel, she prepared to leap above his head. Levitation games had always been a favorite. A smile, barely visible, spread across his lips. His left hand made a gesture, as if to tell her to go for it. Maggie did not take his bait, only circled closer. She made a quick move as if to strike high, and instead cloaked and leaped upward, preparing to execute a somersault in the air above him so that she landed behind his back. Samuel's hand found itself around her ankle, even as she had cloaked herself. She should have known that turning invisible would do little. With a show of strength one wouldn't expect by looking at him, he threw her back on the ground. Maggie's fall was broken by her levitation spell still active. Light as a cat, she leapt to her feet and cast a gout of flame in Samuel's direction. As she started to cast her spell, Samuel stepped to the side and towards her, adding another cut to her left hand. His left palm moved towards her forehead. Maggie moved to dodge the strike, then circled back around, intending to buy a moment to let her magicka recover itself. She didn't bother to heal the cuts, as they were minor and it would only use up reserves she needed elsewhere. "This lesson is extremely dull, guardian. If you mean to impress on me that I can't beat you, save your effort. I acknowledged as much." Samuel moved in and added another cut to the assortment she had already endured; this one in her left cheek. "This is not about swordplay, Rose. Act. Do something. Defend yourself. Stop acting like me being in the superior position excuses a lack of action. Even if you can't win, it is better to lose doing what you can." "I defend myself, you beat me anyway, and the end is the same." She lowered her sword again. "I refuse to play your game. That is my action." Samuel lowered his blade. "Fine, if you don't want to learn, I can't teach you. Heal yourself up, we have things we need to discuss, beginning with why you were late." There was no anger to speak of, just a hint of disappointment. He had a business-like tone, largely neutral. "Did you think I would wilt at the sight of my own blood? Is that supposed to be your lesson?" For a moment Maggie merely returned his cool gaze, then her face crumpled into a mask of distress, tears filling her eyes and sliding down her face, wetting the fresh cuts. "Please, no more. I'll do whatever you want. No! Don't! Please don't hurt me anymore!" The terror sounded real, then Maggie's face changed again and she was back to her cool demeanor, the tears and blood still mingled on her cheeks. Now her tone was laced with bitterness. "That's how the emperor got off, too. I had expected better from you." She thrust the sword in the ground next to Samuel's feet and pushed past him, headed for the house. "I'm going to get a drink. Join me, if you want to hear the riveting tale of Trym Heart-Hand meets Magdela Bathory. Oh, but please go release my guards first, if you're done with them. They've had a rough night." "And here I had thought you, of all people, would be intelligent enough to see the point of this lesson. It seems I overestimated your comprehension of the world around you. Again." Maggie was immune to expressions of disappointment, having endured Darius' withering attempts for the better part of two centuries. She took Samuel's insult without comment and disappeared into the house. He left her, going into her house to free her guards. They would be out cold for an hour or so still, but why not let them be free to move when they woke up? For the first time since Solstheim, he let some of his anger show. Stupid kid. Why was it so hard for her to understand anything? Had he really overestimated her so much? At this rate, he might just end her misery before it begun. She was acting exactly how her father would have wanted her to. Standing in her dining room, Maggie poured the glass of wine, then stood at the table and made no move to pick it up, staring blankly. She might have felt relief if the encounter had not only confused her more. What was he playing at? Her cuts still oozed, and she only noticed when a drop of blood fell on the white tablecloth. Absently she began to cast the healing spells and waited for Samuel to return. Samuel entered the room, finding Rose casting her spells. Healing. An art he actually didn't know a lot about. Not that he had ever needed it much. "Well then, Rose, I think it is time that you make whatever problem with me clear. The story about Trym can wait, for now. Why do you have such a problem with me?" Her voice was distant. "It's not you and we both know it. I don't even know who you are, and I suppose it doesn't matter. You're just here to do what Darius wants." Something occurred to her, and she turned to look at him. "Why do you call me that?" "Why do you call me Guardian? Not for the same reason, to be sure, but not everything has to make sense. You remind me of someone from my past. Her name was Fiona, but everyone just knew her as The Rose. She worked a lot like I did." Samuel took a seat by the table, gesturing for her to do the same. "You might be surprised by this, but what I am trying to do here would cast me from the good graces of your father. I once said that your family has more secrets than you'd imagine. One of them is this: We are an extended family. Your father, Darius Bathory, is my Blood Father." Taking the seat across from him, Maggie stared at Samuel for a long moment. "How can I ever trust you?" That was the crux of the problem. "Do you have a choice? If you don't trust me, you're done for. If you're not willing to I can't help you and you'll be left for the crows most people called nobility. And because by telling you that I am doing something that would cast me out of your father's graces, you could destroy me with a single meeting with your dear father. It might as well do this, and it would be the same." Samuel drew a dagger out of his jacket and placed it in Maggie's hand, before he pressed the tip against his own throat. "There, that is the metaphorical position you have me in. Go ahead, thrust the dagger in if you don't want to take the chance on trusting me. Would save me a lot of time and pain." She removed the dagger and laid it down on the table between them, tip pointed at her. "Why would you do that?" "Because it is painfully obvious that unless I did something to try to build more trust between us, I might as well plunge the dagger in there anyway. I need you as much as you need me, now and after my plans come to fruition. If they come to fruition." He let out a sigh and somehow he appeared to be... older? He looked the same, but his eyes... "I'm old, Rose, and tired of this. But as long as your father holds my leash, there is nothing I can do to stop this. And it is impossible to predict the ramifications of what will happen if my network collapse. A lot of people rely on it to get by. I need someone to help me with your father. And someone to take over my role once that is done. You wanted power? You can have mine, if you help me with this." Her mind was still reeling. The switch from being certain her life was over to being offered a chance to rival her father in power was a wide pendulum swing. It could be a test... "Why would you choose me? You said it yourself, I'm a concubine to fools. And a poor swordsman." "Who else is there that could possibly do the job I have, besides myself? It took me 200 years just to learn how to do it properly. The only other person in Tamriel, at least to my knowledge, that could do my job is your father. And Darius and I have something in common; we both have chosen you for this position. Difference is, he wants you to have a leash. I want him dead. You'll do well enough. Some of the network will crumble while you learn how to run it, but you'll be able to build it up again. Besides, who else can I trust to do something like this? The only person I would trust it with is Rorek and he has already turned down the Blood of the Dual Patrons. He has maybe 40 years left of his life, if something doesn't kill him before it comes to that. You're the only one who can do it." Maggie regarded him silently, weighing this. If what he said was true, then she had to face the fact that the hunter had found her not out of malice, but because of her own missteps. Mortals may curse bad luck, but her kind had no room for it. She'd been reckless, Maggie knew this. Part of her had always wanted Darius to get it over with and cast her out. She wanted to believe Samuel. Folding her hands in her lap, she said, "Tell me what happened. You said he turned you. Do you mean that it wasn't by your choice?" Samuel broke into a smile with a laugh. It was warm, in a way she hadn't really experienced from him yet. Was this what it was like when he was truly genuine? He looked into her eyes with the same eyes that made him seem so much older than his body would suggest. "It was my choice, the same way you give a prisoner a choice to fight for his freedom in the Arena or go directly to the headsman's block. I wasn't always like I am now; I used to be a merchant, in Skingrad. My father was a merchant, so I was to become one. It was the only life I knew, and the only one I wanted. My father always seemed so content with it and he thought me to be happy with doing something I was skilled at. And, I dare say, I was a skilled merchant. By the time I took over the store from my father, it had gained a small network of traders who dealt with me and me alone. This would be during the Tiber Wars." He pulled out a small bottle from his belt and a familiar smell filled the room, before he continued. "One day, the most beautiful woman you could imagine walked into my store and started to look around. Like anyone would, I walked up and asked if I could help her. Naturally, she dismissed me off-hand, at least until I told her that it was in fact my store she was browsing. She seemed to be sorry, so she said she'd buy me a drink to make up for the rudeness, when I closed up the shop that night. Looking back at it, it was a lot like a cliché love story. Except the part where she was accused for being a vampire by the Priesthood of Stendarr. This is when I learned that I had gotten myself involved with the sister of your father. She, of course, wasn't actually a vampire." The Colovian stopped for a moment, looking at Maggie with a distant look. "I was given a simple choice; join the fold of the Dual Patrons and serve the Order. Or I'd be forcefully turned and scapegoated for this whole thing. Looking back, I would have chosen differently. Your aunt ended up paying my price." Maggie's eyes fell. The story didn't seem to surprise her, even though it contained information she hadn't known. It was familiar enough in its themes. At length she said, "No one would ever tell me the truth, but I believe my mother was turned much the same way. I think I even know when it happened, though I was very young. Father meant to spirit us away and abandon her, or perhaps kill her. Before he could do it, she found out what he was, and begged to be allowed to turn. She was never the same after that. Instead of losing her children, she lost her rational mind." Maggie looked up at Samuel. "If what you say is true, he'll destroy us both if he suspects treachery. But kill him? Even now, I can't say... He's always been like a god to me." Thinking of the hunter, she added, "We may be out of time anyway." Briefly she described the meeting with Trym Heart-Hand and his ultimatum of delivering up a solid lead within one week. "This is unnerving, the Hunter acted a loot sooner than I had anticipated. And it sounds like you were lucky getting away form it with your life. Had you gone to their hideout, I doubt you'd have returned, even if I don't think he suspects you of being what you are." While she had told of her meeting with Trym, he had slowly nodded while looking at the table. Now, however, he seemed worried. "And you are right, we have to give him someone specific to hunt. There are not many ways out of this. Trym is one of the people I don't know a whole lot about, since he never stood out among the Vigilants before he started to hunt in the Imperial City. And we don't have anyone we can give to him. I am afraid you're going to have to betray me to him." "You? Do you want an end so badly?" "Do you have any better ideas? The Hunter will demand his Prey." Maggie shook her head. "No. You're too valuable. I can't challenge my father on my own. If it must be between me and you, then I'll do it. The Thalmor will get me sooner or later anyway, if I remain in public life, as I've chosen to do." She glanced down at the dried blood on her shirt. "And lest you think me pathetic after tonight, this hunter will get more of a fight. Perhaps you can even turn it all to your advantage, if Darius can be implicated." "Didn't I already explain why you're not allowed to do that just yet? Sometimes I feel I am the only one who listens around here. I cannot get near your father without you, and if I can't, your or my survival is pointless. Then he wins. The Hunter cannot be allowed to take the life of either of us, but I stand a better chance to keep him running in circles looking for me. The next time you meet him, you need to direct him to 'Maurice', which is one of the many names I go by. Tell him everything you know about 'Maurice' and do it honestly. Play on his impression that you are manipulated and scared. You had an admirable mask when doing that. Even I might have been fooled by it, if I already though you were the victim. Though toning it down a little bit wouldn't hurt. He has already seen you as more calm than that." "Less bleeding and weeping?" Maggie couldn't resist a little smile, though a grim one. She watched Samuel, still not trusting him fully, but he was right that she was left with little choice. They couldn't deal with Darius until the hunter was gone or scattered. Samuel might be setting her up, but she didn't think he lied about his own story. Haltingly she reached out a hand and put it over his. "It was long before I was born, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry about what my father did to you. It's why I don't love anyone, and never have." He put his other hand on top of hers. "It worked out for the better. With you here, I am given a chance to at least make one thing right before the end. I couldn't have done anything to stop this happening again if I chose death. While I think I would have chosen death if given the chance now, it is a cowards way out. People who face a great obstacle always have a moment where they have to chose between accepting that they have to do it, or live regretting that they have to. I think I owe you that I at least try to do the right thing. If I didn't, you'd be destined to replace me. It is as you said: His Precious Legacy." "I didn't even know he was so old. Old, yes, but he's more cunning than I'd imagined. I would feel proud of it, if I wasn't his plaything." She released his hand and stood, walking over to the bookcase where many of her own titles were displayed. Staring at them thoughtfully, Maggie said, "Do you know why I wanted to write novels? I feel free when I write, but one reason was because he hated it. He considered it frivolous as well as dangerous. I gravitated to romance novels because those readers want a happy ending. Even if I have to imagine miseries in the setting, someone gets to be happy." "Children tend to rebel against their parents. I suppose that was inevitable in your case. But a happy ending is always worth aiming for, even if it has to be the minor happy endings that a love story can bring. And, in my opinion, I don't think anyone can ask for more. The Lords and Ladies who rule the world will always bring conflict wherever they go, fighting for more power. Me too, to an extent, as I have helped more than one of these people in my time." Samuel remained seated, but followed her closely with his 'old eyes'. "I have to ask; if given the choice between anything in the world, what would you chose to do?" Maggie looked back at him with blank expression. "I have no idea." She had never considered the question, because what she wanted had never mattered. "This might not be of interest to you, but I already know what I would do," he smiled. His face, young as it appeared, spoke 'old man' more and more as this conversation went on. If it didn't stop, he might start to develop wrinkly skin before the night was over. "I'd dedicate my life to teaching others in the sword techniques I've picket up over the years. Strangely, training with swords under various masters was always the thing that allowed me to just relax." "And I spoiled your relaxation?" Maggie's smile became less guarded. "I'm sorry. Perhaps we can do it again on another day." "Not at all, that lesson in the garden was something different entirely. I'd done it differently, had I planned to instruct you int he ways of the blade." "I wanted to give you a taste on how it is to act under extreme duress. Alas, you stopped the entire exercise, making it a pointless spilling of your blood. You're going to need to be able to keep a cold head, even under such, and worse, circumstances." "I thought you wanted to torment me for your own reasons or my father's. I humored you for a time, but cooperating in such games has no point unless doing so furthers my own ends. It was a misunderstanding." "Quite so. I had not taken into account the effects on your thoughts the meeting with Trym would have, or that this meeting would happen in the first place. Without all the factors, my equation was destined to come out wrong. I can only imagine how alone you must have felt, in the company of these Vigilants, when you've become accustomed to me being aware of most all things that happens to you. I'd wager you thought you had been betrayed or offered as a sacrifice." "What else could I think when I saw my guards? You're not exactly their favorite person, you know." She gave a slight smile, and added, "You understand why I have to be suspicious, why I don't completely trust you even now. You've known Darius longer than I have. But we'll make a new beginning. I want to learn from you. Even if we don't overturn him, you already have a freedom that I never had." "A freedom that would last about as long as you would without the Order, should I go against your father unsuccessfully. As I said; he's the only one who is skilled enough to do my job and he have made sure to show me that he is able to break into my network. When I said he had me on a leash, it was quite literal, in the metaphorical sense." Maggie couldn't yet face the idea of what must happen if they were really to be free of Darius Bathory, but the day's events had brought her closer. She suddenly had an image of Dales Motierre slicing her father's throat, thereby making her own destiny. Could the young, mortal empress do something that she didn't dare to do? She walked over to the table and took a long drink of the wine. "I understand. First, the hunter. I am meeting him in the Emperor's Way gardens, so that I can have palace guard watching, and you too. I'll tell him of this man Maurice. If I point him to your servant Aleffea, will she know what to do?" "Aleffea is not to be involved in this. I prefer the contacts I have as Maurice to stay largely disconnected from the name you know me by. Tell him that I- Maurice- has often been seen in the shadier taverns and inns in the city. That should lead him to some results, but nothing that would lead him to us right away. We don't have any safe options for a permanent solution just yet." Samuel got to his feet and started to head for the exit. "I must leave you for now, the morning has arrived. But before I go, Rose; Remember, the first step in killing a God is to make him bleed." "Does Darius Bathory bleed?" Maggie sounded genuinely doubtful. "Good evening to you, guardian. You're earning that title in truth." "Morning, Rose. Morning."

Brund Hammer-Fang, Ulfric Stormcloak, Galmar Solitude Courtyard 6 a.m. Brund was ordered to Solitude not too long after Baldur and Rebec had left to Markarth. Already word was spreading that he was taking up Baldur's duties while he was gone and most considered him a glorified babysitter as most were not aware of his credentials as a Legate and he didn't save any Kings from a dragon. Brund was at a big disadvantage from that. He'd have to start making a name for himself soon if he didn't want to be overshadowed by Ulfric's favorite. He had one ace in his hole however. Galmar. Galmar and Baldur were never at odds, but they were never as close as he and Ulfric were either. Part of him resented that Baldur would receive so much attention from Ulfric, but he understood it. Galmar was getting old anyway and couldn't take up that mantle for much longer. Brund however, could. Galmar didn't hate Baldur, he was just unsure of him. He thought that despite the fact that ancient nords brought family into battle his wife was his biggest weakness. Brund to Galmar was a much more hardened man and better fit for a general. Also unlike Baldur, Brund actually wanted the position of High General that Ulfric was toying around with making. Complete control of the entire military force in Skyrim. Same power Ulfric held although Ulfric would of course still hold the last word on all matters. Someone with that kind of power couldn't afford to have a weakness like Baldur's. Galmar noticed very soon how different Baldur was when he returned from the war. Normal men would just say he was happy. Galmar would say weaker, less resolve. He thought Baldur thought the same thing subconsciously and that's why he recommended Brund. He thought he was looking for a way out of his responsibilities completely, or at least that's how he justified trying to get a new horse for Ulfric to trot on. Galmar expressed his thoughts to Brund and told him if he wants that position he needed to impress somehow and hopefully Galmar's council with Ulfric would make up for Brund not being the one to end a whole war. Brund was now watching the new squadron of men he was assigned. Only a force of one thousand five hundred for now, to test the waters. All recruits, all normal stormcloaks. Despite him being a Necro Nord, Ulfric didn't like the idea of anyone leading the Grim Ones besides Baldur and no amount of pleading from Galmar would change his mind on that. Baldur had their loyalty and was to most their figurehead. He didn't want to risk their good reputation by leading them with someone else even though all Skyrim was fighting currently was just forsworn. Most of the men were off sharpening weapons, checking armor, running drills and so on. Just keeping busy, nothing special. Brund had a small group of one hundred doing practice. Rigorous Necro Nord practice like what Baldur had them do in Falkreath. As the two groups were fighting head on, one of the men routed back and the other men forgot to knock him out after doing so. Brund wished to spread that mentality of fight or die throughout all of the Stormcloaks, not just the Grim Ones. Brund took this opportunity to let the men get to know him. Ulfric was standing with Galmar up on the battlements looking down below. Ulfric knew the new general he was watching showed promise and was curious to see what it was both Galmar and Baldur saw in him that he didn't. "Halt! Stop the fighting NOW!" said Brund. Brund's raucous voice was intimidating enough to shed the hairs off a troll's ass and it's effect upon the men was instant and quite apparent. Complete obedience. No one dared to piss off the man. There wasn't even the occasional smart ass trouble maker who made an off remark. No one wanted the attention of this man's gaze. But his gaze did one man earn regardless. Brund made a slow march through the crowd of men, slowly approaching the young soldier that had routed back from the front line. How would Baldur handle this if it was his first time with the men? Hmm... Each step was heavy and intentionally menacing. All that could be heard in the early morning was the birds chirp chirping and Brund's considerably sized boot meeting the stone. Each step made the men's mouths dry as he walked near them through the ranks. Exhalation could be heard from the men as the general passed them by as their anxiety of being the one to anger him washed away. Everyone knew exactly who his target was, yet the soldiers couldn't help but feel as though it were they that he was coming for. Brund liked this effect. He hungered for it. Lived for it. The power, the respect. The fear. The soldier who had routed lost sight of Brund behind a soldier as he walked by behind him, so he hurriedly placed his helmet on, hoping that he would lose track of him. The helmet fully covered his face and eyes, but he held his eyes shut anyway. If one were to retell the story and think that the man was acting like a milkdrinker, it is only because they had not seen or heard Brund. Even Baldur was intimidated by the man, but he was just better at not showing it. Brund's footsteps could be heard by the man coming closer and closer, heavier and heavier as he came until they were heard directly behind them and finally ceased. There was a long pause, until the man wondered if Brund was actually still behind him. "YOU!" The man breathed in sharply just when he was about to exhale in relief. "Yes sir!" said the young soldier. To his credit, no fear was heard in his voice. As said before, he was no milkdrinker. He was in Brund's sights and he would take whatever punishment that came to him like a true nord. "Who were your assigned shield brothers?" said Brund. The soldier guided the general through the crowd to his two shield brothers that fought alongside him. "You three come with me to the front." Ulfric watched with great curiosity at the sight. He was interested to see how he would handle things with the men as was everyone. "Ah I see, he's going to take a page out of Baldur's book. Gain their respect by scaring them a little and then show it's a joke." Galmar said nothing. He didn't like that he related everything to Baldur. To him it seemed unfair to Brund who was trying very hard to prove himself. Galmar could tell in Ulfric's head, Baldur had already won. Hm, I can't blame him I guess. Baldur is my friend too, but he isn't the right man to lead our entire military force. I'd bet he'd agree himself. I can tell he never wanted the position of general. He most certainly won't want High General. "LINE UP!" The three men stood straight and next to each other with the one who routed to the left facing the other men. "The one who routed like a coward, step forward." The nord stepped forward without hesitation, ready to take his beating. "Remove your helmet so all can see your face, then remove your cuirass and chainmail." The man reluctantly complied. He wasn't eager to have one hundred of his comrades see him humiliated in such a way but if he took it well, he could at least hold some remnant of honor. Brund slowly unsheathed his hammer from the leather holster over his chest and back that loosely hanged diagonally over him. Pointing it at the two who stood beside the one that routed, Brund commanded, "You and you. Take out your practice swords and beat this man's back so that his lesson will be learned!" Galmar looked down, bored at the spectacle. For someone who claimed to hate Baldur, he sure was copying his tactics down to the letter. Ulfric looked on and all he could see so far was that Baldur had taught him well and was a testament to his leadership skills. The soldiers looked at one another as they slowly complied and unsheathed their practice swords. Both of the men drew their breath as they stood behind the man and pulled their weapons back to begin the onslaught. "BEGIN!" said Brund, spraying spittle from his mouth as he did. No sooner did he say it did hey dash forward with impressive speed for a man his size and blocked the blows with the handle of his hammer. As expected. That's how Baldur would have handled it. The men started relaxing and they all started breathing easy now, some even started laughing as they saw that Brund was only pulling their leg. "Alright alright, go back in line and resume your training." As the men stepped past Brund, Ulfric started making his way back to the palace, seeing everything he wanted to see. Galmar too went back, shacking his head as he did. You failed to impress. Brund smiled surprisingly warmly to the crowd as the men marched by. Replies of, "Hey he's alright" and "Boy, did he have me scared" could be heard from the men as they saw the facade of a grumpy menacing bear fade before them. Then....Brund made his move. Hammer still in hand, Brund ran forward again with his impressive speed for a big man and swung his hammer in his right hand over his head, then brought it down low to the left of him where the men's legs were, simultaneously tripping them and making them land face first into the stone floor. Brund dropped his hammer and picked both men up, then slammed them face first into each other before dropping them on their backs. Brund then picked up his hammer and pressed it down over both men, pinning them to the ground and holding them there with his foot. "This is not a game! I am not your friend, I am not your buddy, your comrade or a minstrel! I do not sing songs, I do not joke, I AM NOT BALDUR RED-SNOW! I am your boss, your General, your commanding officer! I have one rule and one rule only! Obey. You will not retreat in battle and if you DO retreat, your comrades will kill you. And if they don't...." Brund put his boot under his hammer's pole, and skillfully kicked it up in the air before catching it and whipping the pommel down to hit the soldier on his left in the head, knocking him out. "In practice if a comrade routs, you knock him out. If you don't, you get ten minutes of pain from me. Do you understand?" "Yes sir!" "And you! Back in line! Maybe this time your comrades will DO AS I SAY!" Galmar and Ulfric had stopped in their tracks when they saw this. Now he had Ulfric's attention. "Well well! That should get these men into shape, assuming he doesn't beat them until they're useless." said Ulfric. "They need this. We can't have these snowbacks being weak and green if we plan on using them for war. Our military is fresh. We need to whip them into shape pronto and Brund is just the man for the job." said Galmar. "So I see, so I see. The men may think it harsh, but such is war. Baldur has an eye for talent." said Ulfric. "Damnit, Ulfric. Must everything go back to him? I know you are thinking of making him High General. But the man has other goals! He wants to settle down with his wife, so let him! Don't you see Baldur gave us Brund for this very reason? He's more experienced in leading men, just as loyal, just as devoted and-" "But he's not as smart. And the fact that Baldur does not want the position is exactly why I want him to have it. Baldur is a natural born leader, charismatic, has an eye for talent...he's like me. like a son I never had. Brund is a good warrior, maybe even a great general. But he's not someone that can be the face of a group. He can't rally men behind him and call them to arms like Red-Snow. I will still watch him and hold him for consideration. But as of now my mind is set on Baldur. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Baldur expected Brund to spread his training to the other men. He did say to me that the other general should be specifically a Grim One." "But B-" "That is enough on the subject for now Galmar. I promise to give him a fair shake." At this point, that is impossible. thought Galmar. "Speaking of a son...you been trying for an heir?" Ulfric's brow knit fiercely at the question and Galmar thought Ulfric was about to thu'um him off the battlements for a second. "....Yes, occasionally. I know it's important I put a baby in Elisif's belly. It's just hard when I can barely stand her presence. Always acting for the people. Pretending that we are together. It sickens me. But it is what I must do for Skyrim. My seed may have already taken hold... Enough talk of that, friend. Let's go." Brund was looking up at the two as he stood next to the unconscious soldier on the ground, watching them chat about him. That introduction should make it clear. I am not Baldur. I am better. I'm going to take that position for myself and let all know. And if I can't, I'll make it to where there's no one left to hold the position but me. That bar bellowing minstrel won't be taking my position again. Of this, I am certain!

Skjari Imperial palace Morning Skjari was sitting behind his desk in his chambers, rereading the previous court mage's journals to see if he worshiped a particular god more than the others to see if he could find a clue to this "divine fire" mystery. So far it seemed like the court mage hadn't been the religious type at all, as it lacked any real mentioning of any god, temple, shrine or anything that could be linked to the divines. After finishing reading through the first journal, he put it down onto the desk and began to think about the riddle the mage had left him. Dragon fire maybe? These imperials don't worship the dragons as my people did and I bet the old court mage had never even seen a live dragon in his life. But then there's Akatosh, but these dragonfires that apparently existed before this Oblivion Crisis does no longer exist, so that leaves dragon fire out of the question. The bruial fire that is used for the rituals of Arkay? Maybe, but then I have to find someone who is be buried with fire or kill someone who has expressed a wish to be buried with fire. But if it's the wrong fire the book will undoubtedly be destroyed. There's also this sunfire spells of Stendarr, though Stendarr might actually have no real connection to these spells and have just been connected with them because of these Vigils. Did the old mage even know of these spells? So many things to consider and I only got one shot at finding the right fire. Skjari's pondering was interrupted by a tapping on the window. He turned around and saw Karsh standing on the small ledge outside his window. After getting up and opening the window for the raven, Karsh flew up and landed on his left shoulder and Skjari heard the deep voice of the raven in his ear. He had worked hard to make sure Karsh didn't sound like a hagraven. "Hello Boss. I've got news for you. I found Samuel, but I soon thereafter lost track of him... again. Sorry Boss, but he's not easy to spy on, even for me. But I think I've gotten better at predicting his ways of losing pursuers." "Get to the point." Skjari said with a hint of impatience. "Well I found the Maggie when I was searching for any person of interest and she was approached by one of these pompous, holier-than-thou Vigils. He seemed to suspect her and they then went to the tavern The Laughing Fox. Of course I could not follow them inside, but when that pomp came out, I followed him. He ended up walking back to this cave that is called Sideways Cave, it lies to the northeast of the city. That is all I got for now. Can I get some breakfast now? I'm starving." Vigils in the city? Interesting. Skjari walked over to his desk and Karsh jumped down from his shoulder onto it, then he opened the middle left drawer and picked up a small leather bag. The bag contained slices of roasted and preserved meat which he opened and put on the desk next to Karsh, who started eating, by picking up each slice before gulping it down, to his hearts content. Skjari then sat down and opened the middle right drawer and picked up a small letter, a letter that had been sent from some noble expressing a wish for the enchanting of a blade. He also picked up a blank piece of paper and a quill and inkwell from the drawer below the previous one. Then used magic to copy the handwriting from the letter as he wrote. "You might find the spymaster, Lorgar Grim-maw, to be a person of interest." He then simply folded the piece of paper and gave it to Karsh. The raven had stuffed himself with the meat so when Skjari handed him the letter he gave up a croaking that sounded like a burp. "Take this and put it in a visible spot outside that cave. And make sure no one sees you." Karsh nodded, picked up the letter with a talon and then flew out through the window. Skjari closed the bag with the meat and put it back into the drawer before leaning back in the chair. Now he only needed to wait for the events to unfold as he went back to pondering the riddle of "divine fire".

Alef, Marius Imperial City Market Daytime Marius walked threw the crowded streets of the market district, wary about pick pockets and other threats. He was clad in his StormcloalkLegionary uniform, along with the blue cape of a Stormcloak general. (Which he wasn't.) He had his two swords in there sheaf's, and a cigarette in his mouth. Alef looked down at the different fruits some street salesman tried to press on her, at a discounted price. It was fairly obvious what he was after, but she wasn't interested. In him or the fruit. It looked fresh enough, but she weren't hungry. Besides, what possible use would she have of a fruit-salesman? With a roll of her eyes, she walked over to a jewelry stand. No small amount of glances of men went in her direction, with her lowcut, silk dress. And she was sure the rumors about Dunmeri women didn't do much to hurt their fantasies. In the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a familiar face. Could it be? Before Alef could even react, the man walked in huge strides towards and had a tiny blade at her stomach, He said quietly, "Turn around, walk to the alley over there, and don't scream. Because if you do, I swear by Stendar, i'll turn your stomach into bloody bits." "Marius, I- oh!" she let out a surprised whimper when she felt the steel against her. Was he mad, threatening her in the market!? With two quick moves, she could make a lot of these men attack him and escape with her life. But that was not an option. She had duties. Sometimes they got unpleasant, but that is how it had to be. "Okay, okay," she whispered back to him. She did as he asked, hoping no one would notice. Well, too late for that, judging by the look of the fruit salesman, but she pleaded to Azura that he had the wits to stay out of this. She didn't have high hopes for that though, she could already see the anger build in his eyes. Most likely, he'd rush into the alley when he worked up the courage, trying to help her. Amateur. Marius, not noticing the salesman. Proceeded to walk to the alleyway, behind the Dumner woman. "General, I- I've not seen you since we briefly met in Skyrim. I-" "Shut up ****." Whispered Marius, "It's ambassador now, I have your "master" to thank for that." She threw a glance out of the alley, looking for the salesman. When he came, she had to make it seem like nothing was wrong. Marius probably wouldn't mind what we would do, other than being more than a little surprised. For now she only had to keep him in mind though, dealing with the situation at hand. "Yes, I- I heard. Worked out well for you, didn't it?" That caused Marius to push her harder, and furry to appear in his eyes, "Shut the **** up. NOW" Her second glance out of the alley paid of; the salesman was on his way in, with a dagger drawn. "Play along!" Aleffea hastily whispered with a motion to the alley entrance, before she leaned in a locked her lips to his. Marius, who had a shocked look about him, shrugged, before wrapping his arms around Alef and passiontley kissing her. He still had the dagger to her stomach however, but it was well hidden from the sight of the salesman. The salesman stopped in his tracks when he saw a scene he had not expected in the alley. Hoping the pretty Dunmer hadn't noticed his mistake, he left, unharmed outside of a wounded pride. Once his footsteps disappeared back into the crowded street, she broke free of Marius' embrace. "Sorry, I had to act fast," she gave him a quick bow. "Please, put away the dagger. There is no need for weapons here. I am unarmed, and no good to you dead." Marius looked at her, before putting the small blade into his bag. He inhaled and exhaled a puff of his cigarette directly in her face, before saying, "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way miss Alef. You decide." "I suppose you want Samuel, but you're short on luck there. I don't know where he is, only that he is somewhere in the city. He finds me, when he needs me. Not the other way around." This was one of those beautiful moments when the truth and the lie should would have made, if it was different, was the same. "Alas, miss Alef, I suppose you want it the hard way," Marius, without warning, grabbed Alef by the throat, and slammed her into the wall. He snarled, "I served with the Pentulas Occulatus, as a torture technician for five years. I know how to make ******* like you talk. TELL ME WHERE THE **** IS SAMUEL!!!" Squirming in his grip, she did her best to respond to his question. "Do you... honestly think Sam-uel would... eh... let anyone be in a position to sell him... out? You need to... get him to come to you..." "Last time I got that bastard close to me, he took advantage of my gender-ortetatiion to get closer, sold me out to the ******* Stormcloaks as a ******* object!!!" He drew his knife, and put the blade under Alef's finger nail "Tell me NOW" "Do... what you must.... the answer is the same... I can't help mo...re than I have... You have to play his game... if you want to get to... Samuel..." Marius put his hand to Alef's mouth, and used his knife to pry one of the her nails off. The muffled scream wasn't heard in the market and she knew it. She tried to make words out of it, but she just couldn't. What an idiot, trying to force information out of someone while preventing them from talking. And he clearly had no idea who he was dealing with. If he thought that Samuel's lieutenants had any better chance to find him than he himself had, he had to be a horrible judge of character. That fact should be obvious to even a goblin who had drunk himself to death. Tears started to run down her cheek. "I'll ask again, tell me where he is" He said, revealing her mouth. "I don't know! You s'wit, are you so blind that you think you can accomplish anything by doing this? He doesn't trust me more than he trusts you! No one knows where he is when he doesn't meet with you!" "Maybe...maybe I just enjoy it." Alef had to roll her eyes at this. Really? That was his reason for this? Taking out his frustration on her, even though it would only bring Samuel's attention to him in a way he didn't want? Yeah, she had judged him right, he was a moron and a blind one at that. "Why? Pissing Samuel off further before meeting him isn't going to do anything to help you." "If he sends assassins after me i'll kill them, until he himself confronts me. I have to piss him off. Smart plan wouldn't you agree?" Marius brought the dagger up to her shoulder, before slashing at the skin. Alef screamed. "He wouldn't send assassins after you, the bounty on your head will do fine. The only way to get to him is if he wants to meet you. If he doesn't, you're never going to see him. You have to play his game, or else you'll never win!" "Then how can I arrange that? How do I play his little game, dear Alef?" "I- I don't know," she tried to get loose from his grip, to no avail. "If he knows you are here in the city, and I think he would by now, he either has a plan for you, or he has decided that he doesn't want anything to do with you. If the later is the case, you'll never find anything but a dead end if you pursue him." "Then..." Marius dropped the knife, with a look of horror on his face. Looking at Alef's cut skin and torn fingernail, Marius gagged, before emptying the contents of his stomach. "Are... are you okay?" despite what had happened, Alef looked at Marius with a worried expression. From a belt, she nicked a small potion with a red liquid. Once consumed, she could feel that the wounds he had inflicted started to heal. She would need a proper healer to fix everything, but the potion should stop the pain. "Go...leave..." Aleffea looked at him for a while. This guy was more unpredictable than she had imagined. But he had finally seen reason. Samuel was going to hear from him about making this up to her, big time. Trying to remain calm, she walked out of the alley and back into the market, headed for Tanie's establishment. She needed some sleep. And a bath. And... something...

Lorgar, and Gracchus Imperial City, Night Tullius screamed, "MORE, GIVE ME MORE" As he devoured another plate of chicken wings. He had just chugged another pint of ale a few minutes before. Lorgar, who honesty thought this extremely amusing, told the female inn-keeper, "What he means to say, my good woman, please bring another plate of chicken wings and another pint for the both of us" Catia was covering for one of her usual workers, who was sick that day, and had been serving these two men, Spymaster Grim-Maw and High General Tullius. "It will be a moment, sir, as you have eaten all the wings we had. We do have some stew ready, and some sweet rolls." After she said that, she glanced at the open door on the second story where she knew Gracchus was talking with his mom. He put in a good word for these two, so she put up with Tullius' rudeness. While Tullius looked disappointed, Lorgar smiled at her, "This moron will eat anything milady, Stew is fine..." Catia walked back towards the bar, returning with two steaming bowls of venison stew and a loaf of bread. Just as she exited the kitchen, Gracchus came walking down the stairs, planting a kiss on her cheek and carrying one of the bowls for her. They sat the bowls down in front of the two men. Gracchus greeted his two army mates. "How've you been Lorgar? Job of Spymaster keeping you busy?" "Quite fine Gracchus, quite fine. Extremely busy infact, so many duties to attend." Lorgar took out a cigar from his coat pocket and put it in his mouth, before grinning at the man, "Of course, my pay is more than your's and Tullius combined, due to my fief and my salary as Spymaster, so there are some benefits." Gracchus motioned to the cigar. "I see your pay has allowed you to take up some new habits. Lorgar is a cigar man now!" Gracchus laughed, before turning to Tullius. "And what about you, High General? How's life on the Elder Council treating you?" Tullius groaned, as he began to dig into his stew and bread. "Awful. All these dumb brained politicians who haven't stepped on a battlefield in there entire life, raised in mansions and had there thumbs sucked since they came out of there mothers area." Snarled Tullius. This caused Lorgar to laugh, "If I recall, you where born to an extremely rich General and noblewoman, so I bet your thumb was sucked a lot." "Whatever..." Muttered Tullius with a wave of his hand, Gracchus laughed also. "Well since you two brought your finely lined pockets to this establishment, the next round will be on me." Gracchus motioned to the Redguard Ena, who brought over three mugs of the home-brewed ale Catia's tavern was known for. "Heheheheh..." Laughed Tullius, with a grin forming around his lips. He grabbed a mug of the ale, handed one to both Gracchus and Lorgar. He raised his mug up high and said, "A toast, to her majesty Empress Dales." Gracchus raised his mug as well. "Aye, a toast to our new empress. And to us, for helping her get there." He drank a good portion of the ale in one gulp, before setting it down. Tullius and Lorgar just gulped it up in one swing, '' Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh....''' Gracchus waited until Tullius as Lorgar finished their ale so ask Lorgar a question. "So, Lorgar, have you finished rooting out all of te Justicars? I know that was one of your primary objectives when you took the job." "No we haven't bastards are very clever. Even after we stormed there safes houses, we haven't caught all of them." "Well, at least that'll keep you busy for a while." Gracchus grabbed his mug and finished off the rest of his ale. "Hello...duke...Lorgar..." Said a shy voice behind the spymaster. The owner of the voice was a short imperial girl; she wore expensive clothing, and had a pair of spectacles. Her skin was a slightly pale, and her hair was blonde. Her face was soft, and cute. Lorgar turned around, before bowing his head and putting on a smile, he said in a courteous and polite voice, "Good day to you Milerda." The girl, Milerda, coutsied him, before blushing and heading to her table frantically and clumsily, which caused Tullius to laugh. "Look's like the mouse has a crush on the wolf." "Don't be rude Tulius, that's the daughter of the count of Chorrol..." Said Lorgar, taking a sip of his ale.” "This tavern is a temporary home to many important people. Catia takes good care of them, and most of the time they leave happier than when thy arrived. They aren't the only ones..." Gracchus glanced up at the topic of the conversation, who was currently serving some steak to a couple in a corner booth. "So, how do you know this girl, Lorgar?" "Millerda? I meet her when I was attending the ball of her mother, the countess of Chorrol. She's a very interesting girl, loves reading historical fiction and non-fiction history books." "Really? I may have to recommend some for her, as I also enjoy the occasional history. I particularly love the recounting of the Redguards repulsion of the Thalmor." Gracchus looked at the countess' daughter. "So, are you, erm, interested in her?" Lorgar coughed awkwardly, "I don't think if I would be a good match for her. I'm a soldier at my core, she's a pampered lady of the court. Though compared to many other ladies, she's very interesting, so I could do much worse. I had the feeling when I talked to her father at the ball, that he would be "Interested" in the idea." "Well good for you Lorgar. Now if only we could find Tullius a match. I bet I could get Catia to make some more wings, and he'd probably marry those!" Gracchus laughed, and smiled at Tullius. "So, have you found someone?" "Having a wife would cramp my style...could you really see me with children?" Said Tullius with his eyes wide open. Lorgar said sarcastically, "No, no I couldn't. You would be a horrible father, making them wake up at 3:00 AM in the morning to do marching drills, and then force them to swim in a frozen like." Just then, the "mouse" was once again near the table, she started to tug on her hair, and said in a very quiet voice, blushing, "Excuse me duke...ummmm...I heard you like books a great deal...I was...wondering if you would like to go with me to the book store tomorrow at 12:00?" She said, extremely nervous. Lorgar turned around, and smiled at her warmly, "Of course milady, I would be honored to occupy you to the book store. Shall I pick you up from here tomorrow?" Lorgar said with a bow. Millerda blushed before nodding her head, and jogging back to her table with speed. Tullius laughed, before saying, "Looks like the wolf has a date with the mouse." Gracchus smiled at the duke. "Well well well, looks like she may also be 'interested'. Lorgar has got himself a date. Congratulations." "Yeah yeah...I don't think Date is the right word..." he said with a wave of his arm, just then, due to the speed she was going at, the countess lost her balance and fell into a patron, whose ale spilled all over him. Millerda put a hand to her mouth, before saying apologetically, "Ooops clumsy me, forgive me good sir." “The man, who looked intoxicated, snarled at her viciously, which caused her to gasp and back away slowly, "Watch it, Whore..." Those words, caused both Lorgar and Tullius to stand up from there seats, with anger in there eyes. Tullius, who momments ago looked piss drunk, somehow instantly sobered up, adopting a sharp stance, along with cold and clear eyes. Lorgar, who wasn't drunk to begin with, had visible furry in his eye. Catia saw the incident, and she yelled out, "There will be no fighting in my tavern! If you are to kick his ass, take it outside." Gracchus also jumped up, but stood between the drunk man and the soldiers, palms up and arms outstretched trying to keep then seperate. "Okay guys, we just need to take a deep breath. Lets think about this before we do something we regret." "Nobody insults a lady, without apologizing in my presence." Said Lorgar, with a calm, but anger-filled voice. Tullius followed up with, "Nobody insults the girl, whom is going out with Lorgar, but me..." snarled Tullius. Which caused Lorgar to cough, "Alright, alright." Gracchus turned to the drunken man. "You, you better apologize this instant, or I will not hesitate to let these two men kick your ass.” The drunk man laughed, a drunken laugh that shook his whole body, causing him to grab the table to keep from falling. His two friends stood up, just as drunk as him, and one of them said, "Oh yeah, and what are three old men gonna *hic* do about it? You can't take us." His friends echoed his words, saying, "Yeah, you guys are *hic* old!" Gracchus dropped his defensive stance, and immediately threw a left hook at the farthest left man. The man dodge his blow, but Gracchus grab him in an iron grip by the throat and slammed him on the table, snapping it in half. He left the other two for Lorgar and Tullius, expecting them to get in on the action. Lorgar dove onto the man who insulted the countess, thrusting his fist into his head, and bringing his knee into his groin area. The man didn't even have a chance to bring his guard up, as Lorgar threw blow after blow until the man was knocked cold, covered in blood and bruises. Tullius took the other one, moving at surprisingly fast speeds, while putting the man in an arm lock, twisting his arm around and breaking it. All the men were dealt with, bloody, bruised, and unconscious. Catia ran up, her furious expression written all over her face. "Get out! GET OUT! And take these fools with you to the hospital" She pointed Tullius and Lorgar to the door. "And you, I'm going to have words with YOU!" she said to Gracchus. Gracchus suddenly became very still, and his face was as red as a tomatoe. Lorgar and Tullius nodded to each other. Tullius grabbed the one he beat up, and slung him over his shoulders. Lorgar, instead, slowly approached the stunned girl, the countess, and brought up her small hand and kissed it gently, "I must beg my leave milady, I hope this "man's" words didn't harm you?" Said Lorgar, the countess, whose face was a deep shade of red, replied in a quiet voice, "Ummm...no milord..." She muttered, Lorgar smiled charmingly at her, "Good...I look forward to our outing tomorrow." And with a bow, Lorgar left the girl, and picked up the two remaining drunkards over his shoulder with ease. "See you Gracchus..." Both men said as they walked out of the door. Gracchus grabbed the broom that Catia went and grabbed, and began sweeping up the mess. After that was finished, he climbed the stairs and waited for Catia's rebuke. She stood there, pacing around the room. "I can't believe what you did...you not only let them, but you helped them as well." Gracchus stared at the floor. "They were drunk anyway..." "I don't CARE that they were drunk! Do you realize how this will affect business?" "I'm sorry for what it's worth." Catia sat down on a desk in the room. "I know. And you guys were right about veering those men up. I just wish you had taken it outside. I'm glad you stood up for that girl though." Gracchus got up and hugged her, and though she only halfheartedly returned it he knew she wasn't truly mad.

Honmund Gallows Rock Just before noon The red runes that covered his axe gave it a trail as he swung it through the air. One of the last relics of a time when it was his kind that were the fear of the seas in the north-east of Tamriel. Until the elves had settled settled the island en mass. Now the grey-skins had taken over the Reavers. And even he, one of the last Nordic Reaver Lords, had left and settled in Skyrim. But at least they would never get their hand on this axe. Honmund stopped swinging the axe and brushed the sweat from his forehead. He had been it for about an hour now, and he could almost see the red trail in the air still. Now that he was finished, he thought back on doing this in armor. He'd have to do that tomorrow. "You're done, love?" Honmund turned to the entrance of the room as a woman of his own kin entered. Frei. With a smile he nodded and walked over to her, kissing her forehead. She pushed him away and held out a small bottle with a green liquid; one of the potions she used to make for him, after he trained. He loved those things. "Stop being a pansy," she said as she pushed him away, making him let out a small laugh. "You've got to get out there and show you're not dead in here. You've been holed up for days now." "Right, right," he answered with a distracted tone. His mind had gone to Aenin, the leader of the first group of marauders he had conquered. Smart guy, deciding to take the option to join instead of fighting. And he was a former Legionnaire. He had to admit that had its advantages, especially when it came tot he training of the men. It was a bit more... structured that his own training had been. "I'll go, I'll go!" he said, again with a small laugh, as Frei hit him in the shoulder. "Not before you get dressed you don't!" He looked down at his body, ahving completely forgotten that he wasn't wearing anything but a loincloth. "Right, getting dressed. The Plate or the Carved armor, in your opinion?" "Plate; it is a warm day," Frei rolled her eyes and walked out. Honmund chugged the potion she had brought him, feeling the energy come back to him. Best decision he had ever made, letting that alchemist gal join his group. And she was sort of an unofficial second-in-command in his group, so that was good. ** After having gotten dressed, he walked outside. The ruined fort was reinforced with logs, like the orcish stronghold tradition. Effective, if a bit crude. On the far end of the courtyard, where the rubble was at its minimum, he could see Aenin bark orders at the poor saps who had just joined up. Always warmed his heart, that. "Aenin, a word?" as Honmund got closer to him, he shouted at the Breton. Aenin was a bit ticked at these new members as they were performing as if they were common bandits. Which was possible that they once were. No sort of control for their attacks, no though, rhyme or reason. Aenin didn't like training these sorts as they usually ended up s cannon fodder. Aenin contemplated going off and making another example out of the new members as he once did before, but that didn't turn out very well for the lad in question. Underestimated the Breton battlemage and ended up getting...burned. "If I don't start seeing some results soon, I'm gonna have the rest of the men beat you senseless until I do!" Aenin turned to see Honmund calling to him from the side, thankful that he could get his mind off of the pathetic lot he had to beat into shape figuratively and literally speaking. "Thank Dibella's ass, yes. What is it?" "How is it going with those people? Remember, I need them to be competent, not crippled for life due to training injuries," Honmund said, half-jokingly. "Anyway, I need a report on how the various groups have performed lately. I've been ill, so... You get the point." He hadn't been sick, not really, but it was a good an excuse for not being present for a few days as any. A few of his old crew walked by, putting their fists to their chests as a sign of respect. "Hmm well if it's competence you're looking for you're out of luck for now. This lot here's gonna need a lot of work. Lucky for you I've dealt with their kind before in the Legion. Gimme a week or so. They'll be...competent. At best. The rest however are performing as to be expected and are satisfactory. How have you been anyway? People are starting to talk." said Aenin. People in fact hadn't been talking. Aenin knew that they knew better than to start gossiping about Honmund. He likely knew that himself, but he thought he'd let the idea go so he would understand the urgency of letting them know he was fine regardless. Lest anyone even get the slightest funny idea. "And the groups around Skyrim? I assume these recruits are from them?" Honmund raised an eyebrow at the man. He hadn't answered the second question right away for once. Why? Then Honmund mentally shook his head. Probably just a common mistake. He needed to stop reading so much into every single detail about the people around him. He'd end up paranoid. "And," he continued, in a more hushed tone. "I need to know if there are any rumors, any at all, that would be of interest to me going around." "Some of them are from Skyrim, aye. Not all of them. Likely just common bandits looking to join a better gang. The groups around the area are doing okay in certain parts. The heaviest bandit activity is in the reach and Falkreath hold. Falkreath hold recently had a dramatic drop from during the war but was steadily increasing again. Likely due to all the woodland and caves. Easy to hide. So they're concentrating their efforts there, killing groups or absorbing them into ours. As for the Reach...well...the forsworn are a dangerous lot. No way we're getting any of them to join us and they know the land very very well. Hunting them out will prove troublesome. But they're not common bandits so its to be expected. As for rumors, no rumors but you need to show the men you're alright so there aren't any. Forgive my deception. Just trying ta shake you into gear." said Aenin, hoping he wouldn't mind him taking it upon himself to help. Right, he thought to himself, as he regarded Aenin's behavior. As much as he hated to admit it, he wasn't sure he'd be able to control a group so large, with so few incidents as they had had, without this guy. He seemed to be able to keep the people in line with little effort. But he is wrong. There is something going on in this camp, unless Frei is a liar. "Any specifics on what they are doing? You know we can't draw too much attention to us just yet. Any kidnappings, or attacks on settlements or army caravans are to be punished severely. I also heard rumors about one of the generals moving through the Reach. Make sure no of ours attack them." "Well, there was one incident...A couple of Stormies caught a small group of five of our men stealing one of their shipments. The soldiers were killed and fed to a troll to throw off suspicion. They left the shipment for good measure. The one in charge of the group had them sent here. They're bound and waiting for you to dish out the punishment. I'd thought you may want it done personally." "Hmm," Honmund nodded to himself for a moment. "No. I'd like you to take care of it. Burn them. And make sure to send some of the people here to the groups out there. That should take care of thoughts of disloyalty for a time to come." "One more thing, Aenin," he continued, after a moment or so of silence. "Prepare a raiding party. I think it is time that we added the Mistwatch Bandits to our group, don't you think?" Aenin smiled, happy that he was gonna get some killing done today after all. Raising his hands revealing two small flame spells in the palm of his hands, Aenin nodded his head in approval. "Of course, right away." Aenin closed his hands dispelling the spells in his hands, then made his way to the sorry sons of bitches that were stupid enough to screw up.

Eduard Laenius, Jon- Eduard's House, Dawnstar, Night Eduard arrived at his home, eager to review what had happened at the sanctuary. "Jon, you up?" "Of course." "Good, we've got things to talk about." "Alright then, why don't we get to talking?" "Sure thing," Eduard said as he took a seat across from Jon. "Well, as you know, I paid the local family around here a visit." "And how did that go?" "Well, as expected, they offered me a place in their family." "And what did you say?" "For all intensive purposes, I accepted the offer." "So quickly? What had you so into their family?" "At first, I was as indecisive about joining as you figured I would be. However, I met someone who perked my interest." "And who might that be?" "Jak Secunia." "Jak? Right! I had completely forgotten about that! Someone had mentioned in passing that he was invited to join them, but I never thought anything of it. That certainly does change things! How is that crazy trapper doing?" "You knew Jak? I'm not surprised. Anyways, he's doing... alright. He isn't the most normal, or sane, person. But if that's what I'm looking for, I'm probably in the wrong place." "That is very true. As for knowing Jak, yes. I knew him for a short time. He's a good enough guy, provided you keep an eye out for traps. Like you said, a little crazy. Other than that though, he's a genius. His ability to build traps will certainly be talked about long after he passes." "That's for sure. I was just getting started when I heard the tale of what he did to that man near Bruma. It had to have taken days to get that trap perfected. All to kill just one man. He's dedicated, that much is certain." "I can pretty much guess now why you jumped on the opportunity to join. Although... there is the initiation, right?" "Right." "Who is it?" "A man named Kelvyn. He'll be leaving town tomorrow night, which is when I figure I'll nab him." "Kelvyn? I used to know a Kelvyn who was pretty hated for stealing from his group. Last I heard he went north to hide from them. What a coincidence it would be, right?" "That would be quite the coincidence, Jon. Now, as for where I should be tomorrow night." "Actually, why don't we discuss where you'll be tomorrow. Around 6:30, to be precise." "What? Why then? What aren't you telling me?" "Livia came over. Apparently while you have been trying to see what the family is all about, she has been meeting and greeting around here. Not only that, she seems to think that she has found someone that would be perfect for you." "You can't be serious. She's trying to hook me up?" "Pretty much. At this point though, she's just introducing you two to each other." "Well... hopefully she's cute at least. Did you catch the girls name by chance?" "Karita. From what I understand, she's a great cook." "Wait, where am I meeting her?" "Livia's house. Apparently Karita will be preparing dinner. Like I said, great cook." "This all falls at a pretty inconvenient time. From what I've gathered, Kelvyn will leave tomorrow night. At around 7:15." "That has the potential to be a problem." "You're damn right it does. I can't blame Livia though. She couldn't have known that I would be right back into work. I'm going to have to make something out of nothing I suppose." "I guess if there is one good thing in all of this, it is that Livia lives near the border. Shouldn't be a far walk to catch up with Kelvyn." "What about Livia's house? I haven't really been around it, other than visiting her. You were the one who looked at it with her. What's the layout?" "I'll have a layout for you by morning." "Alright then. We need a plan for me to get out of there when the time comes." "Couldn't you just say you have to go?" "I don't want Liv to start looking in to what I'm doing. Besides, what if the girls actually decent? Most of Livia's perfect matches are anything but that, but I'm not going to throw out the possibility." "Always looking for a good woman to bed, aren't you? Some things never change." Eduard laughed. "We'll see Jon. Anyways, what's the plan for getting me out?" "To be honest, I have no clue. I can plan an assassination in my sleep. But fooling your sister? I'm going to need some time." "Alright. We have to figure this out though." "For sure. We should have time to do that tomorrow though. As well as plan the assassination. And what you will wear," Jon said with a light laugh. "This is going to be more dicey than the time we pissed off that den of thieves back by Chorrol." "Oh my! I remember that! And if my memory serves me, it was you, not us, who angered those thieves. You hooked up with the leaders daughter, right?" Eduard laughed. “Oh yeah, that was my fault wasn't it?" "It was! And that wasn't even all you did, and I mean that quite literally!" "Oh come on! How was I supposed to know that was his wife! I can't be blamed. She came onto me. Besides, you didn't exactly help things out once things got tense." By now both Eduard and Jon were laughing about their misadventure. "To my credit, he had a very nice bow. And dagger. And dinner." "Great timing too. Stole it right as he figured out I had slept with every female member of the family. We never ran faster than we did then." "Didn't you hook up with his daughter again some time after that?" "Yes I did. Good times." "Probably the stupidest thing I've ever done. But yes, I must admit, it was a lot of fun. After we made sure that we were going to survive, that is." "Yeah, it was all my idea. I kind of dragged you into that. On the bright side, everything worked out." "Very true. Anyways, I'm going to head to bed. We can speak of past adventures again soon hopefully." "Hopefully. Good night Jon." "Good night Eduard." Both Eduard and Jon went to sleep. They were going to need it if they were to have any chance of navigating the next day.

Velan Quintus- Fort Ash, Morning Velan awoke, slightly disappointed to begin the day. I guess there is a first time for everything. "Tribune." "Yes?" "We are ready to begin as soon as you are." "Well then, let's not waste any time," Velan said as he finished putting on his armor. Velan walked outside to see ten recruits. Velan took note of some general features. Eight men, two women. Six Imperials, two Nords, and two Bretons. Two of them aren't paying attention... "Quaestor, the two on the left..." Velan whispered. "I'm on it," the Quaestor replied as he walked over to the two recruits who weren't paying any attention. "You two here to be soldiers?" "Uhh... Yes," one of the recruits replied softly. "Then start acting like it! We've got lots to do, and the Tribune and I would like to get started." "Yes sir." "Alright then. Tribune, would you like to begin?" "Yes, thank you. Recruits, listen up! From the looks of things, we have a lot of work to do. You've obviously proven that you can make good decisions, as you all have joined the Legion. It's my job to mold you all into soldiers. Now if you are willing to do what I say without and give it all you've got, we should get along fine. If not, we are going to have problems. Actually, I'll rephrase that. You are going to have problems. With that said, is everyone ready to get started?" Most of the recruits replied in unison. "Yes sir!" Except for one. Velan heard one of the Imperial males mumble something to the effect of 'Whatever, this should be a piece of cake,'. You've got yourself a challenge boy. Velan and the Quaestor, Thorek, led the soldiers over to an empty circle. "Thorek, go ahead and tell them what they are doing." "On it." Thorek signaled for the rookies to pay attention. "Alright recruits, the Tribune wants to find out where everyone is at. To do that, we're going to have you fight." "Each other?" "No. You're going to fight me." "Really?" "Do I look like I'm joking? You're up first," Thorek said, pointing to one of the Nords. Dang, Thorek is pretty big. Hopefully these recruits are ready. The recruit stepped into the circle along with Thorek. They both grabbed wooden swords and assumed a ready stance. "Alright, begin!" The recruit began by throwing a hard blow towards Thorek's chest. The Quaestor easily blocked it though and countered with a strike of his own. To Velan's surprise, the recruit was actually able to avoid the blow. Then the recruit attempted to counter by swinging his sword upwards. Bad idea. As Velan thought, Thorek was anticipating the recruit to react as he did. The Quaestor sidestepped the swing, and planted the wooden sword in the recruits rib. The force of the blow knocked the recruit to the ground, where Thorek pounced on him. Not bad for a full on session with a Quaestor. The recruit seems to have good instincts. His decision making needs to be polished, as do his tactics and swordplay. "Alright! That's good. You! You're up next," Velan ordered, pointing to the female Nord. He took notes for each soldier as they faced off with Thorek. Female Nord: Very good for a recruit. Good on the spot decision making, and her swordplay isn't half bad. Her reactions aren't great, and she doesn't move fast or hard enough. Breton male: Ehh... Needs work. Breton male #2: Shows promise. Swordplay is pretty good, and the instincts are there. Needs to work on making the right decisions, and using better tactics. Imperial female: Extremely good for a recruit. Pushed Thorek to the limit. With a bit more polishing, she could be a fine soldier. Just then, he saw the one Imperial male from earlier take his place in the circle. "Thorek, hold up. He won't be fighting you." "Alright sir. May I ask who he'll fight then?" "Me." The recruit was obviously stunned as Velan stepped into the circle, grabbing the sword from Thorek. "Alright then... begin!" The recruit began not by making an offensive maneuver, instead shuffling around the exterior of the circle. He showed signs of good footwork, and was probably smart for not just wildly attacking. Interesting. Maybe he has better fighting abilities than manners. Velan decided to see if he couldn't draw the recruit into attacking. He thrust his sword toward the recruit's knee. As Velan had hoped, the Imperial took the bait. The recruit dodged the strike, and began to counter with his own. Rookie mistake. Velan easily blocked the strike, and decided to close the distance. He swung his sword toward the recruit's neck. The recruit was barely able to block the blow, before the second strike was on its way. The recruit sidestepped the strike, but tripped and fell while doing so. Velan didn't let the recruit recover from the mistake. He launched the Imperial's sword way outside of the circle with a thunderous kick. He then pointed his sword at the recruit's neck. "I believe that will be all for you." The recruit got up, obviously disappointed. "What are you disappointed about recruit? You lost? So what! If you are going to lose, do it here. I'd rather me wipe the floor with your ass, than have to wipe your ass off of the floor later. So get up, and quit sulking." "Yes sir!" As I thought. Just a little too overconfident. He did well for fighting me. If it wasn't for the experience difference, he may have had a legitimate chance. "Alright, that'll be it for me," Velan said, handing the wooden sword back to Thorek. "Alright! Let's finish this up recruits! You guys still have lots to do! Who's next?" As the next recruit stepped into the circle, Velan began to daydream a little bit about his first fight. ~~-~~--~~-~~ Velan was walking to the store to pick up some equipment his dad had ordered. Hopefully it isn't as heavy as last time. Who sends a 12 year old to pick up an entire suit of armor, along with a sword and shield? I had to make 2 trips! It builds character! Yeah sure dad. As he neared the store, he overheard some kids nearby. "Alright Ian! Time to pay up!" "I already told you, I don't have any money!" "Then you can just pay us back by working as a punching bag!" Ian? Oh, this isn't good. Velan rushed over to where he heard the commotion from. When he turned the corner, he saw Ian being cornered by three kids, all of which were older than himself. He recognized one of them. It was Sten. He was a fourteen year old Nord boy who always gave the younger kids trouble. Well, all of them except himself for whatever reason. Maybe it was because Velan looked like he was at least fifteen. I can't just let Ian get pummeled. I've got to do something. "Hey Sten! Over here! I've got some money. Why don't you come get it?" Sten turned over and looked at Velan. "Well if it isn't Velan. Look kid, why don't you just head out of here, and we won't beat the shit out of you." "Only if you let Ian go home." "That's not going to happen." "Then me and you have a problem." "No, you and my friends have a problem. Get him guys!" The two other kids rushed at Velan. As they did, he saw his opportunity. He ran full force into the kid on the left, knocking him hard into the ground. The kid on the right turned and tried to punch Velan in the face, but Velan caught the kid and thrust his knee in the boys stomach. Smack! Velan didn't even see Sten enter the fight, but he sure felt it. Sten had hit him right in the nose, causing it to bleed. He wasn't going to have time to wipe his nose though. Sten was already swinging at Velan's face again. What Sten didn't know though, was that he had pissed Velan off. Velan rammed his fist as hard as he could into Sten's stomach. The effect was immediate. Sten crumpled over like a falling tree. Velan was about to start pummeling the kid when Ian spoke out. "Velan! Come on, let's get out of here!" Velan hit Sten in the face one more time before getting up and running with Ian. "Why do we have to get out of here?" "Because, you'll get in trouble!" "What do you mean? They started it!" "Yeah, but still! What are you doing here anyways?" "I was going to pick some stuff up for my dad," Velan said as they stopped running. "You should go do that. I wouldn't want to keep your dad waiting!" As Velan wiped the blood off of his nose, he decided Ian was right. Velan's father wasn't a man to keep waiting. He rushed to the store, to pick up the equipment. ~~-~~--~~-~~ "Alright recruits! That will be it for training today! Get back to work! We'll see you again tomorrow!" The volume of Thorek's voice snapped Velan out of his little daydream. He had barely taken any notes on the rest of the recruits. None of them were that impressive was all that Velan remembered. "So, what did you think?" "Some better than others. They all need some work though." "I hear you. Well, that's all for training today sir. I'll see you tomorrow." "Looking forward to it Thorek." Velan walked off to figure out what he was going to do with the recruits the next day.

Trym Heart-Hand, Maggie Imperial City Nighttime Maggie made her way through the city streets, trying to keep her mind on what she needed to accomplish with the madams. It seemed a tired exercise, since Samuel would always have better information than her and faster, but she didn't trust him, not completely. Better to cultivate her own resources, even if they would always be limited. Perhaps even manipulated to let her see only what Samuel and Darius wanted her to see. She thought of Alef, and of the Dunmer's self-deprecating demeanor, no doubt meant to put Maggie at ease. It's what I would do, Maggie thought. The Golden Apple was at the edge of the Market District, to catch the wealthy merchant traffic. As she left it, Maggie decided to have a look in some of the magic shops to see if she might find one of Skjari's relics or someone who knew of such things. Her eye was caught by a street performer, who was keeping colored glass balls spinning in the air that caught the rays of sunset. Maggie paused to watch. He was using alteration magic to complement his act, but it was still a beautiful display. Trym nodded to the two people he had brought with him as they observed the girl from afar. This might not be the best idea, but without better sources, he migth as well try to see where it went with her. The only problem was to make sure she'd come with him. He could try to kidnap her, but... Well, the Imperial Guard might have a problem with it, as cowardly as they usually appeared. And if he just walked up to her, it might give her backlash. After a moments hesitation, he made up his mind. It was better for all if he approached her without appearing to be a threat. if that didn't work, he'd have to consider the other option. "Ma'am? Could we have a word with you?" Trym laid a hand on her shoulder as soon as he came close enough. "I don't mean to alarm you, but the Vigil might need your help." Maggie turned, and glanced the man up and down with the typical coolness of nobility. "The Vigil? My, that sounds important. What sort of vigil?" She stood rooted where she was, among the crowds. "The Vigil of Stendarr, Ma'am," Trym held out his Amulet of Stendarr. "We have reason to think you have information that would be invaluable to our cause here in the Imperial City. And, if need be, we can offer protection in return." "The god of mercy. I see. I am not aware of your order, sir, nor what authority you possess, nor why I should need your protection. You are...?" "My name is Trym Heart-Hand, Keeper of the Imperial Isles Chapter of the Vigil of Stendarr. It is my charge to lead our Order's efforts here in the Imperial City," with a hint of pride he relayed his position. Not a day ago he had received a letter that rose his position to Keeper, meaning he finally had the official support of the rest of the Order in his efforts. "Our Order has been around since the aftermath of the Oblivion Crisis, so I am surprised someone of your station haven't heard of us. We often help the Imperial Guard and the guards around the Empire in hunting more dangerous creatures than they are used to. While we aren't included in the Guild's Act, we have considerable influence with the law-enforcers in the Empire. If you would come with us, we can explain it further. You have my word that we will not harm you, on the platemail of my ancestors in the Fatherland." The countess paused, seeming to consider this reply. "One cannot be too careful, Trym Heart-Hand. You understand. I am often approached by people- not such important people as yourself, to be sure- wanting something of me, and it is not so very hard to find an amulet such as yours. Very well, we must all do our part for the city watch." She glanced around, and saw a tavern that seemed well-traveled, called The Laughing Fox. Gesturing at it, she said, "Come then. I will hear what you have to say." "Please, refrain from needlessly flattering speech. As you said, one cannot be too careful these days, and I'd hate to get the impression that you are trying to appeal to my ego. Would make me question whether or not you are being honest with me. Now, I hope you don't mind following us to our headquarters? It shouldn't take long to get there, but it will make it a lot safer to talk." Trym gestured in the direction he had come from, which happened to lead in the same direction as she had went with Samuel the same night as the assassination of the Emperor Motierre. And, according to a map in the First Edition, would eventually lead to Sideways Cave. Samuel seemed to have told the truth about these people. Thinking about what the countess had said, there was something that didn't quite add up in Trym's mind. If she was to be so careful, why hadn't she tried to ask more questions to establish who he was? Other than presenting himself and claiming to be a Keeper of the Vigil of Stendarr, he hadn't showed her anything that would back up his position. Then again, he didn't believe she hadn't heard about the Vigil either, and, other than some reports about vampires in Skyrim, no one he had heard about had ever tried to impersonate them. Who would? Only thing to gain from that was to be asked to cure diseases and fight dangerous monsters. "This tavern will do nicely," Maggie answered in a pleasant but firm tone. "I said I will hear what you have to say. That is more courtesy than I would normally give to a stranger on the street." Her smile warmed a bit. "I ask only that you give me a good story in trade. You must have some, in your line of work. Since you know me, you know that is my hobby. Fair enough?" His eyes narrowed. The tavern. Really? Maybe she was more cautious than he first assumed. But it could still present a problem. A big one; if his suspicion was right, whoever was watching over her might be close by. Their temporary stronghold, as limited as it was, would have been a much safer option for both parties here. Yet, the Vigil, without official recognition by the Guild's Act, had no authority to force the issue. It seemed he had no choice, and it was better than not getting to talk to her instead. "Fine, Ma'am, the tavern it is. Lead the way then. And don't try anything. Even in the dark we'll be able to see you, should you try to lose us. We are trained in alteration magic, among other things." "Lose you?" Maggie laughed and began walking towards the tavern, keeping the Vigilant always in sight. "Now, sir, you have piqued my interest. A phrase straight out of an Inspector Trebian novel. Donata is a bit heavy on the 'it was a dark and moonless night' melodrama, but I do enjoy her books." She paused in her chatter as they entered the tavern, and chose a table in a quiet corner. As she sat down, Maggie continued, "Do you know, I believe I may have confused you with the Knights of Stendarr. Or was it Paladins of Stendarr? So many knightly orders these days. Now, tell me. What is it that yours does exactly?" "We are not a knightly order, Ma'am. The essence of our purpose is to hunt beasts, like daedra, vampires, lycanthropic creatures and anything else that draws its power from the corrupting power of the daedric. We are independent from the Temple of Stendarr.” "Were you involved in that business in Skyrim recently? The Dawnwatch, I believe..." Maggie glanced up as the waitress approached and ordered a ginseng tea, but had to settle for alkanet. She used the opportunity to glance casually around at the patrons, not knowing whether she hoped to see Samuel there, or feared to. The hunter on his own was bad enough. If the Order had abandoned her, or were on the brink of doing so... Such thoughts could not help her. She waited, concentrating on the necessary illusions, which with the sharp eye of the Vigilant must necessarily be natural ones. "I lost my friends and lover in the Skyrim 'business', if that is the sort of story you want to hear in exchange for your cooperation, when the Volkihar sacked the Hall of the Vigilant." His reply was short and his tone was far from pleasant. Not because of the voice itself, which was a tad deeper than most people in these parts and was generally pleasant to listen to, but because of the underlying hostile tone it had. Sitting between the three of them, with no obvious way to run on a moments notice didn't exactly make the situation better. Sugarcoating this was out of the question, he thought. So she better get used to it. "I'm so sorry," Maggie replied with sympathy, or what sounded like it. In reality she cared not a whit what the Volkihar had done to these people. Would that they had got this one, too. "No, that is not the sort of story I had hoped for. Perhaps we should simply get straight to your business. What brings you to Cyrodiil, and why does it concern me?" "The events at the Hall of the Vigilant is what brings me here. You're a smart girl, you can figure out exactly what questions I am about to ask." "You are impertinent, sir. I like games and stories well enough, but as you yourself imply, this must be serious or you would not be here. Do you mean to say that the Volkihar are active in Cyrodiil, as well?" She paused, then sat back in her chair with a little knowing smile. "This isn't about Camille, is it? By the Nine, such a stir over a little book." "The Volkihar are gone, the Dawnguard made sure of that. But there is still The Order, here in Cyrodiil. You're the count of Skingrad's daughter, a county that has a shady reputation among my kind. Lots of stories about vampires in the city..." The way he answered, she could read that if she didn't do something to appease him he might take serious offense to her stalling. And if the spell Samuel had shown her was any indication, that could lead to the reveal of her nature. Spells that only affected the undead and vampires... useful tools for anyone who hunted them. "And you believe I have information about this 'Order.'" She paused, and sighed. "Very well. I have no idea why you are applying to me for this instead of to my father, but I did research the stories about vampire clans in preparation for writing Camille and I am aware of the rumors about Skingrad. Perhaps you wish me to make discreet investigations of someone, and think that my position as royal advisor could be of use?" The last was a reminder that she was not simply a novelist nor even just a count's daughter. "I believe, if you care about something as silly as belief, that you came across something while doing your research. What I want is for you to tell me what that is right now, without evading the point any further." As a reaction to what she could only see as his anger, he suddenly let out a burst of the same light Samuel had showed her form his body. It didn't look intentional, and it luckily never reached her; it stopped a few inches from his skin. For a split second everyone in the bar looked at them, before they turned away. Probably thinking it was better to not get involved. Maggie regarded the man with a flash of anger. "Are you threatening me, Trym Heart-Hand? In front of many witnesses? This is not Skyrim. Your demands may produce results in the barbarian wilderness, but in the Heartlands we are accustomed to more subtle give and take." She looked around as if to assure herself that no one was listening. In a low voice she said, "It is not safe here. You should come meet me in the Emperor Way gardens. If your credentials are good, there shouldn't be a problem with the royal guard." Once more Trym's eyes became narrow as he stared at her, but after a moment or two spent in silence, he got to his feet. "We'll be watching you, Ma'am. I will give you one week to come up with some relevant information, or else I might... I don't think I need to tell you what happens if you are harboring the ones who needs to be purged." With that, he and his friends left the bar. ** Samuel looked around the garden. The blade was planted in the ground, waiting for Rose to return, which now haunted his mind. She should have been here already, if his calculations had been right. And they always were. She was not likely to turn on him anytime soon, she seemed to be aware that she needed him, even though he suspected that she did work to make her own network. Something to be proud of, to be sure. If she succeeded, she had learned something just there. But that was not what occupied him at the moment. She was late. She was never late, except this time. Something else had to have been introduced to the equation. The surprise she'd get when she found her guards might have a stronger impact than he planned. ** Maggie sat for a full minute after the Vigilant left her, looking casual to even a trained observer's eye, though her mind was racing. She had had to offer the hunter something. In this next meeting, she would have to give him something specific, not simply vague rumors which could easily be waved off. What could she give him? Not what. Whom. She knew this Nord's type. He would not relent until he had blood. This one also had a personal vendetta. In the past, the Order had offered up ferals as meat to such dogs, but Maggie knew of no reports of feral activity in the city. Lorgar was too close, too vital to the empress. Her family was out of the question. So was Julia, her publisher, who'd been the closest thing to friend to her. Samuel... He would be a great loss to the Order. If it came down to a choice, her father would put her on the balance with the information broker and Maggie had no doubt that she would be the one found wanting. She also had no doubt that if it came to his own survival, Samuel would give her up without a second thought, and had the power to make it seem like the Vigilant hadn't learned the information from him. Almost, Maggie's eyes welled again as they had that afternoon with the spymaster. Did you think you would come to the Imperial City and find only enemies? She had asked that of Lorgar, but hadn't thought to ask it of herself. With a start, Maggie realized that she had agreed to meet Samuel at her house that evening for blade practice. He could be watching her, and would not believe that she had simply forgotten. She had the eerie feeling that even her thoughts were not private. Very well, guardian. He wanted to see how well she could control herself. Now would be the best time to prove it. She got up and paid the barkeeper, saying with a laugh, "These mages. Always wanting to demonstrate their latest tricks..." Then Maggie went out into the street in the direction of her house.

Dales, and Alef, Night, The Blooming Rose Dales was extremely nervous, timid, shy, and downright worried. Mostly due to the "establishment" she had walked into. She was clad in a expensive pink dress, with a scarlet cloak and hood partially obscuring her face. The smell of roses and other fragrances where thick in the air. She walked to the front desk, and asked the lady, who looked like the "madame", in an extremely shy and somewhat quiet voice, "Ummmm....excuse me?" "Yes, how can I- Ah!" the woman behind the counter let out a gasp, quickly trying to silence herself with her hands. Once she had gotten control of her outburst, she continued, whispering and with a frantic bow. "Your Majesty! It is- an honor to meet you. I'm afraid Tanie is out right now- but I'll do what I can to help you- and don't worry- we're the very Souls of Discretion." "I-" She couldn't get the words out properly, this was so perverted and weird to Dales. She took a few breaths to calm her insane nerves, before saying once again, "I...would like to "hire" one of your girls." "Of course, your Majesty," the woman replied, still seeming a little feint about the visitor she had. She leaned in, still whispering. "I presume- and I apologize if I presume too much- that you want to keep this visit a secret?" "That would be greatly appreciated." "Then it will be a little harder to arrange, your Majesty, since rumors fly fas- Aleffea, can you come over here for a moment?" The woman behind the counter stopped herself as the entrance door opened and a young-looking Dunmer woman came in, dressed in a black silk dress. "Naturally, Ma'am. How can I be of service?" "Well," the woman gestured for her to lower her voice. "We have a... difficult client- if you forgive me that description, your Majesty- to deal with. She wants to hire someone, but keep it under wraps... and I thought that... you know..." The Dunmer, Aleffea, looked a little confused for a moment, before she peeked under the hood Dales wore. "I see... It would be my pleasure. Shall we?" She gestured to a door that led to a staircase, while still looking at Dales. Dales nervously looked at the dark elf woman, who looked ravishingly beautiful in her own way. Dales gulped a mouthful of air, before timidly entering the doorway, and started to climb the stairway, Through a hallway Aleffea led Dales, eventually coming to the room she had asked to get to use. It was the same room she had witnessed the discussion between Samuel and 'Maggie'. Samuel had placed some soulgems in the walls, ensuring that as long as they persisted, the room would be completely soundproof. Locking the door behind her, she took a hold of Dale's shoulders from behind and whispered into her ear. "What is it that the Majesty desires? I can provide... almost everything..." "Ehhh..." Dales said, with her back stiffening at the dark elf's touch. She blushed a deep shade of crimson, "I dont know what to ask...I've never requested "service" like this before..." "Of course, your Majesty," she started to massage her shoulders, with a playful laughter. Slowly Dales was being pushed towards the bed. "Why are you so tense? You are here to relax, no?" This feels...good... As dales shoulders were being massaged, her body began to loosen up, and relax. Dales herself was feeling...very good. "I suppose..." She said in a dreary voice, "Close your eyes, your Majesty," Aleffea said before she pushed the young Empress down on the bed. "I'll take care of everything..." ** Dales lay on the bed, completely naked with her clothing scattered across the ground. Her mouth was drooling slightly, as the dark elf to her right playfully nibbled on her fingers, "That...feels...great..." Aleffea stopped what she did and crawled up into to the young Empress' body. Of the many tidbits of information she had let slip was that she was weak for snuggling. If she played her cards right, this alone should make her talk a little more. Her hand started to stroke Dales' hair affectionately. "It's my Dunmer blood, dear. I'm always warm," with a kind tone she continued to stroke her hair and put her arm around her. She had to admit, this was far from an unpleasant way to spend her evening. "Is something bothering you, your Majesty? You seem a little tense, even now..." "Nothing really,,,i'm just worried, I'm being pressured by many people to marry...I admit it's extremely important to have an heir to the throne...but very stressful to think about me having to have a husband..." "I think I understand... But maybe it won't be as bad as you make it out to be? I mean- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have- please forgive me, your Majesty." it was important to not seem to eager or that she didn't know her place, but she also needed to place her bet. By reputation, the Empress seemed to prefer shy people. Her displaying some of that, when talking about the Empress herself, looked to be the most secure bet. Dales smiled lightly, before turning around and placing a kiss on her lips . She gently switched positions, cradling the dark elf. She began to lightly feel her hair, "No it's all right, continue." "Wouldn't someone of your position have access to... 'services' and 'other' people, to surround yourself with outside the... marriage parts? I don't mean to- I'm sorry if I go to far- but if you fond someone who is willing to do it as a duty, while accepting your other side... Maybe I shouldn't have said something, I-" Dales interrupted her by plopping her thumb into Alef's mouth, and saying in a cool, gentle voice, "Suck on it..." Dales lightly squealed, "Your so cute Alef, like that..." She gently held her like a baby, and gently brushed out her hair as she sucked on her thumb. Dales smiled and said, "Maybe you would like to be my mistress?" Perfect, Alef thought to herself. Access to the Imperial Palace was useful. Besides, she could think of worse things to do with her talents. "I'd love to, your Majesty."

Just making sure before I start posting, is this the correct place to start?

Ita crazy, tomorrow I'll legally be an adult but damn I don't feel like one.

I won't be able to do much work tomorrow, gonna be turning eighteen.

Alrighty, @Witchking of Angmar I'll contribute as much of Chapter 3 as I can. Take a break man, you've done good work.

If you can link the end of where you left up now that we have internet again Ill help out.

I see through your lies!

Kameraden ! >:O

Probably why I didn't remember them in it, thanks Doc.

I remember the Reich being in the first game, but were the Reds in too?

BigBossStalin Or TheReichsHussar?

We're actually kinda in the dark on how they fought, we know the equipment and the practical uses of them plus Christian texts. But like the description its still more accurate than Hollywoodland

Im really liking this guy's stuff, @ColonelKillaBee this is for you.

Nothing to do with the RP but damn this is a nice video.

I think everyone is missing something, they're both Theo's just after a Dragon Break

Sin