Tavern Tales: Come on in and have a drink! Part VII

[WillieSea]

Will followed Red through the dark musty passage as they carefully went down a set of slick steps. He crinkled his nose a little, the sewers always had an odor all their own, and it was smelling particularly fresh this day.

Red carefully picked their path through the cramped tunnel until they came to one of the large cisterns that held a large amount of rainwater and waste. She then dipped the torch into the water putting it out. The sound of voices nearby alerted them to the presence of others.

Red motioned to Will, he would take the path around the left side of the round cistern and she would take the right path, the exit door being on the other side. They both eased slowly forward. Then a light approached from down the far doorway as a torch approached.

Both Red and Will moved forward quickly, trying to gain position on the doorway before the unknown torch bearer entered the cistern with them.

As Will rushed towards his position he slipped on something thick and slimy on the cistern shelf they walked on, causing him to pinwheel his arms to keep from falling into the frothy water. Red was slightly distracted by this and before either of them got into position, a lone Necromancer exited the doorway, lighting up the cistern with his torch.

“Oblivion!” Red cursed under her breath as she lunged forward, sword back and ready for a swing once she was closer. The Necromancer Raised his other hand and uttered an incantation. In a purple swirling fog, and zombie materialized in front of Red stopping her advance. The Necromancer then ducked back down the passage he had come through, the sound of rapid footsteps telling both Will and Red what he was doing.

With Red temporarily stuck on the other ledge with the soon to be dispatched zombie, Will, gaining his balance at last, raced after the fleeing Necromancer. As he gained the passage beyond the doorway he already had a throwing dagger in his hand. A few seconds later and the sound of Reds footsteps echoed behind him.

The passage was short and came to a tall room with steps angling down at 90 degrees from the passage. The Necromancer was already at the bottom and heading across the room in front of William. As he ran across the room, he looked up as Will entered, a look of fear and shock on his face at his pursuer. He had little time to react to the whistling blade as it sailed through the air and took him in the leg, only because he had jumped.

Just then, Red plowed into Will sending the both of them sailing into the room and falling the fifteen feet to the hard stone floor below.

Time seemed to slow for both Red and William as they tried to pinwheel themselves into a safe falling position for their plunge. Red managed to kick off from Will and rolled into her fall, coming up with dagger in hand.

William on the other hand, having been pushed over the ledge out of balance and getting kicked, could not maneuver into position fast enough, before the floor hit him unceremoniously. Two ‘woofs’ of breath echoed slightly in the room as the Necromancer Will landed on and he himself exhaled from the impact.

Will rolled off the downed Necromancer as Red now stood over him. She quickly jumped on the necromancer, one knee in his back and the other on his head. She grabbed one of his arms and pulled it up tight behind his back, pinning the Necromancer in place. As Will gasped for breath, Red growled through gritted teeth, “I am not in the mood to be trifled with. You will die as surely has your brethren have if you don’t tell me where you took the youth you snatched from the arboretum the other day!”

The Necromancer grunted and tried to break Red’s iron grip. “I’ll not betray my brethren to the likes of you!” he spat out while his face was being ground into the moldy floor.

Just then, Will’s black blade hungrily pierced the Necromancers’ chest, making the arm Red held go limp. She jumped up and was about to scold Will when she saw the fading magical energies dissipate from the Necromancers other hand that she did not see.

Will then wiped the blood from his blade onto the robe of the now deceased Necromancer as he muttered, “Filthy creatures. There is no rest for the dead with them around.”

Red looked sharply at Will, “Let not go on about the dead until we find Quinn…”

William nodded his head, “Sorry Red. I am sure he’s still alive, I can’t see him going anywhere he does not want to go very easily.”

The Necromancers coin purse found Reds deft hand as they moved on; some habits were just too hard to break. Will grinned and bowed for Red to lead as they continued further into the sewers, heading in the direction the Necromancer had been trying to go. The necromancers torch now in Red’s hand, its faint reddish glow would give the impression that they were the now dispatched Necromancer on his rounds.

[WillieSea]

They moved slowly down the passage, like a guard on his rounds. They quickly came to a passage with a locked door. Red listened carefully at the door and only heard a number of faint moans behind it. Will gestured at the door and whispered, “Be my guest!”

The then stood behind Red with his sword drawn and ready to slash at anything that lay behind the door. For her part, Red took a pick and probe from her kit and fiddled with the lock mechanism and was quickly rewarded with a loud click. She quickly put her tools away and pulled her own sword out.

She thumbed the latch on the door and it opened slowly, squeaking loudly on rusty hinges. The room was pitch dark and as the door opened, the torch light shone slowly across the room. A stench worse than the sewers assaulted their noses. Dirty straw appeared, then rusted manacles chained to the wall. And slowly, the source of the moans appeared in the torchlight, a number of prisoners hanging from more of the shackles.

Will and Red rushed into the room, wary of any traps or enemies. Finding none, they went to the prisoners and freed them, giving them some water. Both Red and Will looked at each other with a determined look while they helped the prisoners. Quinn was not here, but these necromancers were going to pay with their lives. Each and every single one of them.

The duo told the prisoners to stay put and they would be back for the, then proceeded further into the sewers.

Not much further on, raised voices could be heard ahead. They slowed and stopped in front of an open door to listen…

No, you’re the one who was supposed to be watching him!

What?!! Don’t give me that Drugan, you know Balen told you to chain him up with the others, you were just being lazy. And now Balen is dead and it’s your fault!

You take that back!

The sounds of scuffling and fisticuffs came from the room. Will and Red nodded; apparently Quinn was no longer here. William walked into the room and dispatched both of the arguing combatants before they even knew he was there. As before, he pulled the hoods off each of the dead men as proof of their deeds for the Captain of the Imperial guard.

Red looked at Will sideways at the coldness he had dispatched the Necromancers and the look in his eyes, of determined anger avenged. A shiver ran down her spine as she wondered how much she really knew William. Perhaps there was a reason for her memory loss about him.

The passage continued out the back of that room, a short distance and another room opened up, filled with beds, tables and storage chests. A fire crackled in a fire pit in the center of the room. A single Necromancer tended a pot of something cooking over the fire while two others were in deep conversation at the far end of the room.

Both Red and Will hand signal fought over who would go after each of the two groups. Just then the back door opened on the room where a Necromancer helped another badly wounded comrade into the room. The others in the room rushed to help and brought the wounded man to one of the beds.

The apparent leader then grilled the other man, “What happened Grath? And were are Tobin and Jareal?”

Grath sighed and took a deep breath, still winded from his trek. “That Imperial swine ambushed us as we chased after him. For someone who was so badly beaten I would have never thought he had the energy. He killed Tobin with a stone and grabbed his staff which he then used to strike Jareal down.”

A look of incredulous disbelief spread on the leaders face, “Both of them, just like that?!! Then what happened to Gene here?”

Grath withered under the glare and continued, “Well, we advanced with our swords drawn on either side of the Imperial. We struck as one but he dodged our blow and got Gene in the square of the back before taking off back towards the Imperial city.”

The leaders face was turning a bright red color, his folded arms telling what he was feeling. Then he burst forth, no longer able to contain his anger, “You festering worm rotted imbeciles! Four of you against a puny Imperial! You’re not worth even beating for your incompetence!”

He then stormed directly towards where Will and Red waited. They ducked back behind the door frame and as soon as he cleared the frame, two daggers found their mark and the Necromancer slid to the floor silently and forever still.

Will then moved into the room quickly and stealthily with Red right behind him, cursing! The Necromancers had their backs to their approach as they watched their wounded comrade on the bed.

With a few more deft thrusts, all the Necromancers lay dead on the floor and one in the bed. Coins found their way into Reds own as Will looted their weapons.

They then quickly went down the passage which soon came to an iron grated door. Sunlight filtered in from beyond the gate and a fresh wind blew in their faces letting them know the outside was very near. Exiting the tunnel they found themselves near a dock on the shore of the lake surrounding the Imperial City which dominated the sky behind them.

Quinn was probably several hours ahead of them and there was no telling where he was going. The Imperial City was a big place. Perhaps he would hide out there or move on looking for another way to get the information he was after.

Red sighed and looked up the steep climb towards the city, “We might as well collect the reward for these before we search for information on Quinn.” She held up a few of the bloody hoods. Will nodded and said nothing. He turned and headed back into the sewers to bring the prisoners out.

[WhoGuru]

Red and Will stepped out of the Imperial City gates and headed for the stables and their horses. The Captain had been overjoyed to see Red again and more so to see the collection of hoods Will tossed on the table in front of him. They each had a hundred extra gold apiece for their trouble though they still had no idea where Quinn was. If he had returned to the city, they could find no word of him and Armande had made himself scarce, prompting a chuckle from Red.

"Should we not stay and try harder to find him?" Will asked, looking back at the city. Red shook her head and smiled.

"No. I don't think he wants to be found right now." She laughed as she took Savior's reigns from the stable hand. "Who can blame him. In the last two days he's been beaten by the Thieves Guild and taken by Necromancers. I'd hide for a while as well were I him."

"Good point." Will mounted night as Red swung herself up into Savior's saddle. "Home again for us." Dawn had only just broken over the city behind them, the end of an eventful night. "We make good time we could be back in time for dinner."

Red grinned at him. "I heard Wilson say something about Venison steaks yesterday."

"We'll make good time." Will said in good humor, mouth watering.

They rode out laughing and galloped across the massive bridge into Weye. The tiny village had yet to wake for the day, save for the lone fisherman Red always saw on his way to the lake shore with his trusty pole slung over his shoulder. They made good time away from the Imperial City and up the winding road into the foothills that surrounded it. As they turned on to the Gold Road and toward home, a cry went up from the woods around them.

Red skidding Savior to a stop, Will beside her and drew her sword as a ball of fire hurtled from the trees on their left. Red threw herself from the saddle into Will and pulled him with her. They hit the ground with a thump and a grunt and were instantly on their feet again, the fireball having passed where they'd been and over their heads. The horses wisely kicked up their hooves and sped further down the road and away from the magic.

"Bandits?" Red asked breathless, waiting with her sword raised for the next volley. "With magic?"

"No." Will said softly and turned to put his back to hers as robed figures broke from the trees on either side, five in all. "I think we may have made them mad."

Red laughed and advanced on the Necromancers on her side. "Their days about to get a whole lot worse." She was on the first of them before he had a chance to react and he fell with one sweep of her blade as she turned to parry a stab by the man next to him. He tried to sneak in under her guard a second time and she made him pay with a slice up his off arm. She spared a glance behind her and saw Will had already dispatched two of the three on his side and smiled again.

"COME!" Her remaining Necromancer cried out in the clear morning air and behind him, out of the trees, shambled three zombies. Whisps of fog from the foul magic's they had used hung around them like streamers.

"Will! Zombies!" Red called and renewed her attack on the dark wizard before they reached her. She kicked out, doubling him over and ran him through while he heaved for breath. She had hoped the zombies were mere summons and would dissipate with his death but they did not. The real article then she thought grimly and drew a knife in her left hand.

She looked back again and found Will mere feet from her as three more zombies ambled out of the brush beyond him, three Necromancers dead on the ground around him. He met her eyes briefly and clanged his sword against hers.

Red grinned and brought her sword up in an arc, taking the reaching arms of the first zombie to reach her. She kicked it backwards to fall on the ground and ducked under a swing by the next. She turned with the motion, bringing her sword with her, and severed its head to fly off into the grass. Another head flew past her shoulder.

"Sorry!" Will called and Red chuckled, turning back to the lone zombie now standing. She flung the knife in her left hand and found its mark in the creatures eye. While the zombie clawed at its face to dislodge it she swept in from the side, stabbing deeply, doubling it over and a moment later Will's sword descended to remove its head.

They stood together once more, back to back and waited on the road for anything else that may come for them. After several moments of silence they relaxed. "Well then." Red knelt and cleaned her sword on a dead Necromancer's robe. "Can't be many Necros left in Cyrodiil after that."

Will chuckled and rose from cleaning his own blade and rifling the bodies for anything worth selling. Red had walked over to the still living but armless zombie where it rolled on the ground, unable to raise itself up. She drove her sword into its head, waiting for it to stop twitching and then pulled it free with her booted foot. "I hate zombies." She said offhandedly and turned a smile to Will.

A strange feeling overcame Red as she looked at Will. The world seemed to slip out of focus as she looked at him and for a moment, as though through a veil of fog, saw another face superimposed over his; an older face. The sensation left her dizzy and she swayed forward. Will caught her in surprise.

"Red? Are you well?" He asked, peering into her glassy eyes.

"You, you used to be...older somehow. Didn't you?" Red asked, confusion in her voice as on her face and Will's eyes widened.

"Do you remember that?" He asked, hopeful. "Do you remember me?"

Red stared at the ground while the world righted itself and she looked up at him again. "I just don't know. There's...something. A waterfall?" He nodded.

"So your memories are still in there. Somewhere." He said softly and stood her up on her own now she looked steadier. "Perhaps this is how Phillip felt when his memories first began to return."

"Who?" Red asked, running a hand through her hair in frustration and Will sighed.

"Come on, let's get back on the road and I'll tell you." He smiled at her and nudged her toward Savior who came trotting back along with his Mare. "You do have the damndest holes in your memories."

The rest of their ride back home was thankfully uneventful, made to seem shorter by the stories Will told her of things she could now only vaguely remember. Poke and prod her memory as she did she could gain no more than impressions and feelings that yes, these things had happened to her, this person, this Phillip she had known and she blew out a breath in frustration as they rode into the Tavern yard in the last light of the day.

They left thier horses with the stable boys and went in to find the dinner they had been looking forward to and Red, for now, set the holes in her mind aside once more.

[WhoGuru]

Red rose from her breakfast and waved at Arlow on her way out the door. First to rise it seemed as she saw no familiar faces while eating and she'd been watching for Carter's appearance. She stepped outside into the overcast morning. The dark clouds shifting overhead promised rain at some point as did the wind beginning to blow in from the west. She headed to the stable, wanting to give Savior some exercise after their trek to and back from the Imperial City the day before.

The sounds of contented horses and stable hands clanging about greeted her as she entered and as she reached Savior's stall, she noticed Carter's horse, Flint, was missing from his and breathed a sigh of relief. Red wrapped her arms around Savior's neck, resting her head on his and snorted at herself.

"I think we both need a walk boy." She said and opened his door. She had him saddled in short order with him prancing happily while she tsked at him, tightening the cinch around his belly. "Come on then you goof." She laughed and led him outside. Red turned to mount and instead doubled over with a short cry. Images began to flash through her mind, images from her youth she thought. A sanctuary, faces, some of them dead. Over it all a babe crying echoed, near deafening her. They were memories she was sure even as her head felt as though it was splitting. The crying faded away to be replaced by a voice. A woman's voice, sickeningly sweet it called to her, seductive, it made her hear though Red tried not to. She knew that voice.

"Miss? Red Miss?" Another voice broke through the madness in Red's head and she jerked upright. Her grip on Savior's saddle had been the only thing holding her up and she stared into the worried eyes of one of the stable boys. "Are you quite well Miss?" He asked her again.

Red shook her head, then nodded, still in a fog. "Yeah, yeah fine. I'm fine." She managed and mounted Savior quickly. She turned him not toward the road but toward the Tavern and followed the well worn path around it. Fear nagged at her, panic and a terrible sort of dread began to settle into her stomach. She kicked Savior into a gallop and at the top of the hill with the tree overlooking the Tavern she slid from his back to fall to the ground in stunned disbelief.

Her grave had been robbed. Dirt lay in piles on either side of it and below, the lid of the coffin containing her former body was jarred to the side. Red shook as she sat there, unwilling at first to look but she made herself. She dropped into the hole and, taking a deep breath, pushed the lid further aside. There, atop the rumpled silks that still covered her old self, lay the sheathe of the Dread Blade; Empty. The blade was gone. "Oh gods." Red breathed. She grabbed the empty sheathe and climbed out from the grave, face ashen.

Red went to Savior and for a moment simply held on to him, burying her face in his mane. Whoever had opened her grave and taken the blade had unwittingly revealed Red to the Night Mother. She had not left the Dread Blade buried for sentimental reasons. The Night Mother knew now Red still lived. The thief must have covered the blade again and so broke the momentary connection but it had been enough. The Night Mother knew she had cheated death, soon Sithis would know and then the Brotherhood.

"No." Red said finally and straightened. "Not dead yet." She said and tossed herself up in Saviors saddle. If she could find the thief, get back the blade, perhaps destroying it would sever the connection. If whoever had taken it kept it covered she had a chance. "Come on boy." She kneed him into a canter and followed the clear marks of someone's passing in the morning dew on the tall grass.

The trail led North for perhaps an hour and then turned sharply East. Red rode past the outskirts of Wellspring Vale and pulled to a stop as K'isseen, the village guard, came out to meet her. "Red!" The Khajiit said and waved. "We have not seen you here in many days." K'isseen slapped her gloved hand on Savior's shoulder and he snorted a greeting as well.

"Have you seen anyone else pass this way?" Red asked, not in the mood for banter and K'isseen nodded.

"Hours ago." Her split pupil eyes blinked up at Red. "Young man all in black he was, galloped past before the sun broke day." K'isseen waved toward the East. "Heading into the preserve I'd say."

"Thank you." Red nodded and kicked Savior into a gallop and away from the now doubly curious cat. Not so much of a head start she couldn't catch him, she thought, and the Preserve was wild country littered with ruins and the remains of Oblivion gates. She would find him in time she told herself and urged Savior to go faster, still following the thief's trail in the tall grasses as the wind picked up stronger and the first, fat drop of rain splashed onto Savior's neck.

[WhoGuru]

The rain began to fall in earnest, washing out the horizon in a fog of gray. Red's keen eyes stayed on the swaying grasses in front of them as Savior ran, picking out every bent blade as she followed her thief. It was quickly becoming harder and harder to see his trail. Her only solace was that he seemed to be traveling in one direction, a clear goal in his mind.

Snatches of the memories the Night Mother had shown her danced before her eyes as though taunting her. They were hers, she knew, but still she felt disconnected from them and could make no sense of them. The baby crying, she thought with a pang of regret, must be her daughter who's body she now walked in. Remembering how she could even have a daughter was what pulled at her, as it had since she'd returned to life.

Red yanked herself back to the here and now with effort as the tumble down walls of an old ruin rose up out of the fog of rain ahead of her. The thief's trail led almost directly to it and she reasoned he must have looked for somewhere to wait out the storm. She slowed Savior as she neared the first of the outer markers of the ruin. Her head was filled with a cacophony of images once more, without warning, and she doubled over in her saddle against the pain. The thief had uncovered the blade again was her last coherent thought as the Night Mother whispered her name sweetly.

She came back to her senses and realized she was laying on the ground, Savior standing over her and protecting her somewhat from the downpour. "Dammit." She ground out and pulled herself to her feet and then into her saddle again. "Thanks boy." She patted Savior's neck fondly and kneed him toward the ruin.

Red left Savior out of sight of the entrance. It was an ancient watchtower and the dilapidated arch was overgrown with vines and ivy. She stepped lightly to it, seeing hoofprints in the mud, and eased her head around the corner. A pathetic looking brown pony stood just inside, snorting nervously. Red waited to see if anything but the horse moved and after several minutes decided it was safe and stepped out.

The pony huffed at her as she approached but didn't move away. He looked as miserable in the rain as she was. She patted his neck for a moment to settle him and then froze. In the overgrown scrub brush by the back wall, a black form lay. Red eased away from the horse thinking to catch the thief asleep. She changed her mind when she reached him. He was not asleep. He lay on his back beneath an overhang, eyes open and short breaths wheezing from his lungs. In his chest a knife stood like an exclamation.

His eyes rolled to Red as she walked into his line of sight and knelt by his head. "You stole something from a grave this morning, didn't you?" She asked him and after a moment, he nodded. "Where is it?" Red felt about his belt but her dagger wasn't there. The man coughed blood and groaned.

"Gone." He managed.

"Why did you take it?" She growled at him. He closed his eyes for a moment, struggling for breath. "You don't have long left. Why?"

"Payed me." He gasped, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Double cross."

"You met whoever payed you here to hand over the dagger?" She asked and he nodded weakly. "Who was it? Tell me and I'll avenge your death, not that you deserve it."

"Don't...know." He gasped again. "Never...told me his name." Red resisted the urge to shake him.

"Tell me something, please!" She begged as the light began to fade from his eyes.

"Man...Chorrol." His breathing was quiet now, his eyes staring upward. "Oak...and..." He didn't finish the sentence, the life gone from his eyes. Red knew what he'd been about to say however. The Oak and Crosier. She rose from the now cooling body and went to his pony. She turned him round toward the entrance.

"Head West and maybe you'll find a home." She said softly and gave it a mighty slap on the rump. The dingy brown pony shot from the ruin at a full gallop heading back the way Red had come. Outside she found Savior happily munching the tall grass and climbed up, turning him East and North for Chorrol. She knew the Oak and Crosier. There was a high level fence for the Guild that did business out of that Inn, though she'd only met him once. He was an unsavory Dunmer for all his airs of fortune and standing. If he had set in motion this scheme of grave robbing, she'd be paying Armande a blood price later. Fathis Ules, she knew, had a taste for rare weapons.

[WhoGuru]

The sun had set an hour before Red rode into Chorrol though she couldn't tell by looking. The storm clouds had yet to break and the rain had turned to a heavy mist that made the light from the street lamps glow. The streets were empty save for a few patrolling guards, shoulders hunched against the wet.

Red left Savior at the stable, tied him to the fence beside it and strode toward the Oak and Crosier. The door opened as she reached it and she stepped aside for the two inebriated patrons as they were pushed out by the bartender. "I'll 'ave none o' that in 'ere. Go get a room somewhere else!" The bartender slammed the door shut behind them and the two, man and woman, quickly latched on to each other in a fit of giggles and somehow managed to walk away up the street oblivious to the rain.

Red opened the door and stepped in, smiling at the bartender who threw an angry look her way before realizing she wasn't the two he's just tossed out. "Care for a drink miss?" He asked more politely and stepped behind the bar once more. "Name's Morten." She nodded, asking for mulled wine to combat the chill and leaned easily on the bar.

"I'm looking for someone." Red started, still smiling as the barkeep shot her a look. "Friend of mine." She tossed a Drake on the counter. A moment later it was swept up in Morten's rag. "He's a Dunmer, Fathis Ules?"

Morten scowled. "You need better friends."

"Well." Red tossed another coin on the bar that quickly vanished. "Friend is subjective." She smiled again. "I need to talk to him."

"As it 'appens he'll be in 'ere later tonight." Morten nodded and set a steaming mug of wine on the counter. "Not for hours yet though. That one comes out late, with the cockroaches 'e does."

"Thanks Morten." Red took the mug and left a last coin on the counter. She headed back into the darker dining area. most of the tables were occupied as were the chairs by the fire, which she'd been hoping for, and instead settled at a table nearby against the wall and in shadow. She listened to the conversations of those around her, inane chatter about new goods at the store, a neighbors irritating dogs. She smirked at some of the comments and sipped the mulled wine in her mug. After more than an hour, the dining room had mostly cleared out.

Red looked up as the door opened again and this time Fathis Ules appeared. The Dunmer wore his usual rich garb though it looked a bit the worse for the weather outside. He greeted Morten loudly and asked for the house Ale. He then turned and came into the dining room, headed for the fire and its warmth when he saw Red sitting against the wall. He faltered a step and then continued in, putting his nose in the air as he passed her to take one of the seats by the fire.

Red rose, signaling with her empty mug to Morten for a refill and took the chair next to Fathis. "Evening Fathis." She said and handed her mug up to Morten when he came over.

"Do I know you girl?" Fathis said haughtily, flicking an imaginary piece of lint from his sleeve. "I don't believe that I do."

"Not really, but you may have something that I want." Red said quietly and fixed him with a stare.

"I can hardly see what." The Dunmer sneered.

"A dagger." Red replied and watched his eyebrows twitch. Morten returned with her wine and quickly made himself scarce again. "Stolen from a grave in the west of Cyrodiil."

Fathis snorted. "I see many daggers in my line of work." He said, sipping daintily at his ale and making Red want to pound the sneer from his face.

"I know. I sold you a few...items once." She waited for his eyes to find hers. "Guild items more or less."

Fathis looked quickly back to the bar and Morten seeing him safely out of earshot and turned a glare on Red. "I certainly don't do that sort of business here." He hissed at her. "and I'll thank you not to ruin my reputation."

Red snorted a laugh. "Fat chance." She leaned forward then, hand on the pommel of her sword for emphasis. "I'm not playing Fathis. A dagger was stolen from a grave yesterday and I mean to have it back."

Fathis studied her, looking at her sword and then her face before sitting back. "Not my job." He said finally and took another sip of his Ale. "I did hear word of it, or rather of the blade which of course, I have tried to acquire since learning of it." Starts lit in his eyes. "It's said the blade is enchanted and no one knows what that enchantment is."

Red closed her eyes for a moment. She certainly did. "Where is it?"

"Ah well that would be a problem girl." He shrugged his thin shoulders beneath the blue brocade and turned his red eyes to hers once again. "I said I tried to acquire it. Whoever set up the deal to have it taken has been very secretive." He made a face as though he took it personally. "They are here in Chorrol though, of that I'm sure." He rose and set his cup aside. "You'll have to find it on your own I'm afraid. I'm far too busy to help a mere thief." With that he strode away and left the Inn.

Red sat back with a sigh. Fathis was no good at lying, she'd learned the only other time she'd had dealings with him. He was telling the truth and she was at a dead end again. She sipped absently at the mulled wine, grimacing at the bitter taste of the herbs and set it aside. She rose from her chair and swayed, clamping a hand on the back to steady herself. Confused, she looked up to see Morten watching her from the bar with a small smile. "You bas..." and she fell into darkness.

[WhoGuru]

Red woke slowly with a bitter, foul taste in her mouth from whatever potion the bartender had used to knock her out. She forced her eyes open to a dimly lit room and blinked furiously to try and make them focus. She felt her hands bound behind her where she lay on a moldy mattress. She could smell it and it made her nose tickle with the urge to sneeze. She fought it back, not wishing to alert anyone nearby that she had awoken.

Finally her eyes adjusted and she saw she was in a small room. The light, dim though it was, was not actually in the room but coming from outside it. The walls were ramshackle, thrown together and the light came over the top from a room beyond. The ceiling was mold covered as well and damp. She mused that she must be in the cellar of the Oak and Crosier. Morten could certainly not have taken her out unconscious without the guards noticing.

Voices could be heard from beyond the rickety door. One of them as it raised she recognized as Morten's. The other was deeper and angry. Red rolled on the bed, swinging her legs over the side and managed to sit up. The blood began to rush back into her hands making them tingle. Wiggling her fingers, she turned her wrists this way and that and smiled. Morten had not tied her tightly enough. She listened to the argument taking place on the other side of the door as she worked to pull one of her hands free. It didn't take her long and she nearly moaned as she rubbed the feeling back into them and unwound the last of the rope from her other wrist.

"Kill her!" Came the deeper voice, clearly and loud this time and Red listened intently now. "I don't care what she was asking about or what you think its worth. Kill her or I will and then you." There was a thump, then footsteps. "Do it before I return."

She was out of time. Red rose from the bed slowly and looked about but there was nothing to use as a weapon and all of hers had been stripped from her. She layed quickly back on the bed, hiding her hands beneath her back and waited, body humming with tension. Moments later the door creaked open, sliding along the floor and she heard Morten sigh as he came to the side of the bed. "Cryin' shame." He muttered and Red struck.

She kicked out with her legs, taking Morten in the gut. As he doubled over with a whoosh of breath she took hold of his right hand where he held one of her own long knives and wrapped her other arm around his neck.

Morten cried out finally and his hand surged toward her with a reserve of strength. Red twisted to avoid the blade and kicked viciously at one of his knees. His scream was loud as the joint popped, echoing from the walls as he went down and the knife dropped to clatter on the floor. She shoved his head into the mattress with her arm across his windpipe and pressed until he was gasping.

"Tell me who the other man is and maybe I let you live." She whispered in his ear and released the pressure on his throat.

Morten coughed explosively and moaned. "I can't tell you that, 'e'll kill me!"

"I'll do it first." Red warned and shifted to put weight on his shattered knee. "Tell me!" He screamed again and when part of her twisted at the anguish she was causing, she forced it down, locking her conscience away as it would not serve her now.

"You wont!" Morten said finally, near crying and bucked against her but she had him firm against the bed.

"Why do people keep telling me that?" Red asked him softly. She reached down and scooped her knife from the floor and placed against his throat. "Who is he?"

"Yer death." Morten ground out and bucked again, this time nearly succeeding in throwing her off and she drove her knife home, killing him instantly.

"Then I'll just wait for him to come back." Red said finally and climbed off Morten. Absently she cleaned her blade on the back of his shirt and then strode out, numb. In the center of the room was a large table, covered with papers, books, a small chest, candles burning and in the center a pile of her gear.

She pulled her things to her and quickly strapped her tool belt back on, slipped the Baldric for her sword over her head and then pulled the one chair over to the wall at the bottom of the stairs. She settled it a few feet from the stairs in the darkest shadow and sat down, sword across her lap, and waited.

[WillieSea]

After a quick breakfast expertly prepared by Wilson, William left the Tavern before the sun came up. A cool breeze from the West told him it would be a rainy day. He smiled; it would keep most bandits and other unsavory creatures from accosting him on his chosen path. He travelled South towards the damaged city of Kvatch, his destination was somewhat South of there.

He had had plenty of time to ponder his return to this realm. The total immunity to lightning was required for him to get the bow and Dwemer rifle as much as to free the Dwarven ghost. And ridding that lost valley of whatever ancient evil infused it from the Atronach. He then frowned when he thought about his ‘lost’ rifle. He should have known that the pirate would find it irresistible. After all Jack did already have and use two pistols of the same basic design. But really, the weapon was not that useful except to an assassin for a single, long range shot.

The Tavern was far behind him as the sun rose sleepily into the sky bringing with it a drizzle of rain. The grey sky promised rain for the remainder of the day. When the sprinkles turned into frequent downpours, Will found shelter under trees or in one of the many ruins that dotted the landscape.

People still thought of him as his last profession, an assassin. He was very good at it but was that really what he was now? He belonged to no guild and Sithis himself had released him from his service. He was still more than willing to kill when it furthered his own moral compass. He chuckled at that thought, an assassin with morals…

He was now more of a freelance fighter. So what did that make him? He pondered that thought as he rode through the light rain, the heavy dark clouds hanging low in the sky.

After a time he thought, perhaps a crusader more fit what he was now. But a crusader for who and for what belief? He was just clearing the top of one of the many hills of country Kvatch when he spotted a Minotaur in the distance. His heart then leaped as he then spied a woman and two children in common clothes travelling along a trail that intersected the Minotaur’s path.

He was much too far away to yell a warning or to gallop hard towards them before the Minotaur found them. He had but a moment to make a decision…

He quickly pulled his bow out and sighted an arrow high into the sky. The lighted filaments on the bow quickly shot out and arced into the sky towards its intended target. Being so far away it was difficult to keep the lighted trail pinned on the moving Minotaur, the light playing against its fur and the vegetation around it. The beast spotted the bright filament of light and stopped to bat one of its massive hands at the light.

William held the bow still but the filament still waved in the breezes between him and the creature. He held his breath, said a prayer and quickly released the arrow high into the air where it disappeared into a low cloud. It whistled through the air before burying itself deep into the Minotaur’s upper torso.

Will was already riding hard for the beast as the arrow then burst into burning electrical energy. A minute later Will rode slowly up to the carcass of the dead Minotaur. The arrow was gone but blood still gushed from the small hole it had created. William got down and checked the creature. The damage was not enough to kill it but perhaps the shocking magic had stopped its heart. He looked towards the road and the family continued on, oblivious to the danger or his presence. William smiled; perhaps he was a crusader for the common folk. He liked that.

[drakon136]

The third bandit fell to a single swing of Vinn's blade, like a tree against an axe. Yet there were still many more where they came from. A Khajit was rushing at him from behind with a mace, so he turned to block, but got hit in the side with a blast of lightning. He clutched his side in pain, and took a blow in the head from the Khajit's mace. He collapsed, unable to fight any longer. The bandit walked up to deliver the killing blow. Vinn raised his arm from the ground, and a red glow came to it. He threw it the Khajit, and mumbled three words. "Oblivion take you."

There was a large explosion, enveloping everything in fifty feet. Vinn heard screams of immense pain coming from the bandits caught in the blast. Vinn managed to not scream from the pain of even casting the spell. When the blast subsided, the landscape in the area was reduced to ash. The ground was entirely black, and there were no plants left. However, everyone in the radius seemed unharmed, aside from the fact that all of them but Vinn were dead. All that remained living was him, and the Dunmer that blasted him with lightning. She looked around in horror at the fact that all of her companions were dead, and that Vinn somehow survived. She fled for he life, before Vinn could do the same for her. But unbeknownst to her, Vinn used up most of his power with that spell, and he couldn't cast it again. Even if he did, it would most certainly kill him. He barely had enough life left in him to stand up, and he wasn't sure if he could even do that. However, he did have enough energy to grab a potion from his pack, and drink it. He felt much better after it, and managed to stand up. He picked up his sword and shield, hopped on his horse Glory, and went off in the wilderness.

He eventually came across a tavern, somewhere north of Anvil. I could use a drink, he thought, as he went towards it. He left his horse at the stable, and walked inside. He ordered a pint of mead from the bartender, and drank it in one. "This'll be a long night of heavy drinking," he said to himself, as he ordered another.

[WhoGuru]

Red sat quietly, sword in her lap, and waited for near an hour when she finally heard the door above open and footsteps coming down the stair.

"I see you've done what I asked." A man said as he walked into view, his back to her and went to the table, unconcerned. She wondered how he knew there was only one living person down here now but set it aside.

"Not exactly." Red said softly and rose, holding her sword to his back as he spun about in surprise. He was Imperial like her, tall and dark haired and she felt the pit drop out of her stomach. He was wearing Shadow armor, the singular armor of the Dark Brotherhood.

He regained his composure, testing a finger tip against the end of her sword and smiled, fixing his cold brown eyes on her. "Well, well. Morten finally met his match. How interesting."

"Who are you?" Red asked, keeping her sword steady.

"I should ask the same but I try to never leave my victims in confusion my dear. I am Talius, head of the Chorrol Sanctuary of the Dark Brotherhood." He bowed dramatically, never taking his eyes from hers. "And you are?"

Red fumed inwardly but kept her sword steady. "Someone you stole something from. A dagger. Give it back and we can both walk out of here."

"Oh I don't think so." Talius reached into a flap in the front of his armor and came out with a cloth wrapped bundle. "I went to great trouble to acquire this from a fallen traitor to Sithis." Red bristled at his description of her but said nothing. "Such talismans of death should be used, not buried away." He pulled the first layer of cloth away and Red panicked.

"No don't!" She cried out but too late as the Dread Blade was revealed and flashed in the candlelight. Memories overwhelmed her once more, the Night Mother's voice laughed in her ears. When it seemed the cacophony would overwhelm her, it stopped. Talius had returned the dagger to its covering and knocked her sword away while she was in the grip of the blade. He held her closely, intimately, pinning her arms to her back and smiled down at her.

"Very interesting." He said and took a lock of her scarlet hair between his fingers before smoothing it from her face. "I shall enjoy hearing the story behind this between your screams my dear."

Red fought for control as her eyes focused finally and she growled at him. "You first." She hissed and drove her knee up between his legs. He grunted and she watched his eyes cross as his grip on her loosened and she spun away from him, coming back with an elbow to his face as he wheezed for air. Talius cursed at her as he stumbled into the table and came up with a knife. He lunged at Red. She knocked his arm wide and sent another kick to his solar plexus but he caught her foot and turned it painfully as he planted a hand in her back and pushed.

She struck the floor and as his weight rode into her back she felt something press against her stomach, behind her belt, and she remembered what she kept tucked there. She heaved against him, rolling as she pulled it from her belt and took the punch he aimed at her face. He was sneering at her as she brought her hand up and pressed where Quinn had once showed her.

The small cylinder exploded into a staff, the end taking him under the jaw and threw him backward. Red surged to her feet and brought the remarkable weapon around to strike the side of his head and send Talius sprawling as he tried to rise. She wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand, feeling the split lip and went wide around his prone form until she could see his face. Her strike with the staff had been devastating. His eyes stared widely at nothing as blood trickled from the dent beneath his hair. Talius would not be bothering her again. She said a silent prayer to anyone who was listening that the next leader of the Chorrol Sanctuary had better sense than this one.

Red pressed the button again, collapsing the staff and tucked it back behind her belt, then knelt by the body. She rolled him over and pulled open the flap in his shadow armor. Inside she found the cloth wrapped bundle that was the Dread Blade and removed it, careful not to let the cloth drop open. Around his neck she saw an odd contraption, rather like Elm's Dwemer spectacles but bigger, bulkier. She pulled them off over his head and examined them. The lenses were oddly reflective and stuck out like a bug's eyes. That they were of Dwemer design was obvious from the markings on the band and lenses.

She put the goggles up to her eyes and blinked in surprise, looking about. The dimly lit cellar became clear, lit as though it were day and, looking up at the ceiling, she could make out the glowing form of what looked to be a rat scurrying on the floor above. This was how he had known only one person remained in the cellar. Red lowered the goggles and smirked. "Much obliged." She said to the dead man beside her and slipped the goggles around her own neck.

Red carefully tucked the Dread Blade in it's wrapping into her bag, unwilling to uncover it long enough to put it in its sheathe and risk another encounter with the Night Mother. She looked one last time around the cellar, at the aftermath of her grave robbery, and sighed. "Haven't come as far as I thought I had." She said softly. She retrieved her sword from under the table, sliding it back into the scabbard and left them there. Someone would get a shock in the morning.

Rather than go out the front, Red used the backdoor off the bar, slipping into the darkened alley and rain. She made her way between the closely packed houses to the Chapel and stepped out into the street again when she saw no one in sight. Quickly she crossed and found the outer wall of the city and the house she was looking for. It sat almost against the wall and the shed off the side made for easy climbing which she quickly did.

Red stepped carefully on the slick roof tiles and jumped to grab hold of the wall, pulling herself into the crenelation. She waited for a guard to pass and moved swiftly out behind him and across to the other side with him none the wiser. She looked over the wall and saw the bales of hay where she'd seen them when she came in and dropped from the crenel into the sodden stuff.

Savior was just where she left him and whuffled happily at her as she untied his reigns and mounted. The lone guard at the gate at this hour did not notice her leaving, the constant rain hiding the sounds of Savior's hooves as she walked them to the road and out of sight.

[Arion]

Aurorae and Geldii followed the narrow path that wound its way through the tall trees. The warm days and cool nights signaled that autumn was fast approaching and the trees were beginning their annual change. Mixed in with the evergreens were splashes of various shades of reds, oranges and yellows. Off in the distance could be heard the sound of a pair of bucks in their ritual combat as to who would be the dominant buck this mating season.

As they neared the top of the small rise they had been climbing, Geldii said; "We're not far from our farm now. It's just over the top of the next rise in the valley."

Aurorae, who had been lost in the surroundings, enjoying the peaceful serenity, almost didn't hear what Geldii had said. "Oh, sorry Geldii. I was just taking in the sights. It's so beautiful up here."

"Yes it is." Geldii responded. "As a young girl my mother and I used to walk the hills collecting various herbs. Since she passed away, I've not had much chance to go collecting except for brief trips close to home. Most days are spent tending the garden and the animals."

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Aurorae asked.

"I have an older brother, but Dad and I haven't seen him in a number of years since he and Dad had that falling out." Geldii stated matter of factly.

"Falling out? Aurorae asked with puzzlement.

"Oh it was a pretty nasty falling out. Amilli, my brother and dad were always arguing. Amilli wanted to go off and fight in some war. Dad wouldn't have any part of it. He said that the war had nothing to do with us." Geldii said with a noticeable sorrow. "One morning we got up and he was gone." Geldii continued.

"I lost my husband in the great war." Aurorae offered. "A lot of good men gave their lives to free us from the Daedra and close the Oblivion gates."

Both Aurorae and Geldii continued working their way up the path in silence. Both lost in thought.

As they came to the top of the small hill, Aurorae scanned the valley below. The trees had thinned out and there was a broad meadow with tall grasses blowing in a gentle breeze. A narrow stream meandered through the meadow, making its way southeast, probably to join up with other streams that eventually emptied into the Niben River at some point she guessed. Off to their right in the distance were three does peacefully nibbling the grasses on the stream's bank, totally oblivious at this point that a young wolf was stealthily creeping up on them.

Aurorae and Geldii watched as the young wolf crept closer and closer until it thought it was in striking range, when it leapt up and charged the three deer. Just as the young wolf began its charge, the largest of the three does suddenly came to alert and with a bark and a flash of its white tail it and the other two sprang across the creek and bounded up the other side of the short hill rising from the valley below. The young wolf came up to the side of the stream and with a dejected yelp towards the fleeting deer, sat down and watched as they ran off.

Aurorae and Geldii watched the scene play out before them. As Aurorae watched the deer bound over the opposite crest of the hill she noticed a faint column of smoke rising over the tops of the trees.

"Look, see the smoke over there? Aurorae said as she pointed in the direction of the faint column of smoke.

"Yes, yes I do!" exclaimed Geldii. "That's coming from about where our cottage is. Maybe Dad's home!" Geldii said with excitement in her voice. With that, she began running down the hill and across the meadow toward the smoke.

Aurorae started to shout to Geldii that the two of them riding Eureka would get there much faster, but Geldii was out of earshot in seconds, running as fast as she could.

Aurorae walked over to Eureka, who was patiently nibbling the grass on the side of the path. "Well girl, guess we might as well get along." Aurorae winked at Eureka as she climbed upon her back.

Trotting down the path Aurorae and Eureka caught up with Geldii on the other side of the stream.

Slowing to a walk as they pulled up beside the now out of breath Geldii, Aurorae leaned down and said; "Like a ride? I think we could get there a bit faster riding."

Between gasps for breath Geldii managed to say; "Yes, sorry I was just so excited."

Aurorae leaned down and offered her hand to Geldii and pulled her up upon Eureka's back.

As Eureka climbed the short hill towards the column of smoke Geldii chattered a mile a minute about how good it was to be home.

"Dad will be so happy." Geldii said. "We don't have much but I'm sure he'll want to give you a reward for rescuing me and bringing me back home."

"No need for a reward." Aurorae said. "A good hot, homemade meal and a good night's rest would do just fine." She continued.

Reaching the top of the hill Aurorae suddenly brought Eureka to a halt. Nothing could have prepared them to the horror of what lie ahead. Just ahead of them, near the bottom of the hill were the smoking ruins of what used to be a small farmstead. Littered in what was left of the corral were the caucuses of a small herd of sheep. The few that managed to escape the initial slaughter were scattered around the farmhouse in bloody, dismembered clumps of wool.

Where the path opened into the small courtyard in front of what was left of the farmhouse lay an overturned cart, rotting vegetables scattered hither and yonder, a mangled horse still attached to the cart. Nothing moved except the slight wisp of smoke coming from the ruins.

A piercing scream brought Aurorae back to herself. Geldii had jumped down and was running, screaming toward the smoking ruins below. Aurorae drew her sword as she made her way down the path, keeping a watchful eye out incase whatever had done this was still around. As she drew closer the smell of death hung in the air like a putrid cloud. Black swarms of flies buzzed around the caucuses of the slaughtered sheep.

Stepping around dismembered body parts, Aurorae made her way to where Geldii was hunched beside a form that could only have been what was left of her father. So brutally butchered was the body that it was hard to tell that it had once been human.

Aurorae tried to comfort Geldii, but the poor woman was in total shock. Racking sobs shook her slight body as tears streamed down her face. Aurorae went back to Eureka and took her cloak and a couple of potions from her traveling bag and went back and wrapped it around Geldii. With some effort she managed to get part of one of the potions down Geldii. Soon after Geldii began to relax, although she sat there with a blank gaze in her eyes.

Eureka came up beside the grief stricken Geldii and nuzzled her neck trying to offer the young woman comfort.

"Eureka, watch over her while I go tend to the dead." Aurorae whispered to Eureka.

Eureka took a protective stance beside Geldii as Aurorae went back and set about gathering stones from the small stonework fence and began covering the body of Geldii's father.

Judging by the condition of his body and those of the slaughtered sheep, Aurorae estimated that it probably happened shortly after Geldii was captured. Apparently the father had made a run for home and those that hadn't carried Geldii away had followed the father and slaughtered every living thing around.

Finishing the task of covering the body, Aurorae set about looking to see if there was anything of value left that Geldii might be able to use. Checking the cart she found a small chest with clothes and a few coins. Aurorae went to what was left of the farmhouse but it was a total loss. Everything inside had been burned. She wasn't sure if there was an underground storage room as the roof had collapsed in upon the remains of the house.

As she started to turn around to head back toward Geldii and Eureka she heard a small sound coming from what was left of the sheep's shed. Making her way through the scattered boards she came upon a large bale of hay that was holding up one wall of the pen. Nestled into the small space between the bale of hay and the wall Aurorae found a young lamb. Scared and weak from lack of food, the poor thing was unable to move. Aurorae gently withdrew the lamb and as she snuggled it in her coat to give it warmth, she noticed a faint glow surrounding an object hidden in the corner between the hay and the wall partially covered by hay. Careful not to drop the lamb, Aurorae withdrew the object.

It was a long narrow leather case sealed with an enchantment of some sort. Not wanting to force her way into the case without knowing what type of enchantment was protecting it, Aurorae brought both the case and the lamb back to where Geldii and Eureka were.

Geldii had recovered somewhat but still had that glazed look in her eyes. When Aurorae approached with the lamb and the case, Geldii reached out and took both and cradled them in her arms.

"Geldii, I looked around to see if there was anything that could be salvaged from your home, but these are the only things I could find. I found a small chest with some clothes and a few coins as well in the cart." Aurorae said softly to Geldii.

Geldii just looked at her with that blank gaze and sort of nodded her head.

"It's getting to be afternoon and I think we should get as far away from here as possible before dark in case whatever did this chooses to come back." Aurorae said to Geldii.

[WillieSea]

The ride south had been mostly uneventful. William had seen a few wolves in the distance but they did not follow him in his ride through the rain. He had a destination in mind, a place he had visited a long time ago and in another lifetime. The grey skies drizzled as gusts of wind found ways to soak his undergarments. It was a miserable day for riding but it kept most creatures in their dens.

The castle walls of Anvil soon passed in the distance as he followed the Serid River upstream. The ground suddenly began to rise as the river fell away below and the cliff face kept the water on its destined course. A few minutes of climbing and a rope bridge appeared as if out of nowhere. It spanned the chasm across the river and was quickly lost in a mist that hovered over this part of the canyon. The bridge appeared to be solid enough even though it seemed to span out into nothingness.

William dismounted from Night and took his adventuring supplies from the saddlebags. He scratched the special spot behind her ears, “If I’m not back shortly, head back to the Tavern.”

Night shook her head and stamped her front hoof. Will grinned, he did not know if she understood him, but he seemed to talk to her a lot when he was adventuring on his own. He then turned to the bridge, only wide enough for a human to cross.

He walked slowly out into the void and was soon engulfed in swirling mists as gusts of wind tried to topple him from the span. He looked back and only saw the same grey clouds that were also in front of him. He walked on holding onto the rope guide rails to maintain his balance. He moved forward for what seemed hours when land finally appeared in front of him.

As William took his first step onto land, the mists quickly dissipated and the sun shone down from blue skies. Will looked up, a little disconcerted since it had been grey and overcast just a little while ago. Birds flitted across the sky as butterflies danced from flower to flower in the green meadow that lay before him.

As the fog rose, trees surrounding a small house came into view. Sitting on the front porch, rocking slowly was an old woman smoking on a corncob pipe. She eyed him with a piercing stare that seemed like she was looking at his soul. Will then looked down at himself and found that all his equipment was gone and he only wore his silken black pants and a black tunic. A quick look behind him verified his suspicions, the bridge was gone and in its place was a vast expanse of the same meadow that surrounded him on all sides.

He sighed, apparently his path was set before him. He walked towards the tree covered shack and the old woman rocking in a chair. At the front steps he bowed deeply in greeting, “Good day ma’am.”

The only response from the old woman was that she puffed furiously on her pipe and the smoke from it was blown into William’s face. He held his ground and stifled a cough and tried to breath as little of the sweet smelling smoke as possible. The old woman stared at him a few moments longer and Will matched her stare with one of his own. There was power behind the woman’s eyes, a great power. Lesser men would have run in fear but the many experiences will had in his long and eventful life steeled him and he stood his ground.

Finally the old woman harrumphed and she cackled, “Fine then. So you’ve returned. Your path has been laid before you by the gods, which one I cannot say.” She once again puffed furiously on her pipe. “Your path has lead you here, perhaps for guidance although I think you know what needs to be done.”

The two looked at each other not saying a word for a few moments. The old woman then sighed deeply and set her pipe down. She stood up and as she did, everything transformed! The hovel became a sparkling golden tower surrounded by giant old oak trees and a babbling brook ran off into the trees and around the spire which seemed to pierce the sky. The old woman now stood up tall, her common dress becoming a sparkling white gown on an exceptionally beautiful and well endowed Elf. Her golden curly hair flowed down over her dress.

William ignored looking at the changes and kept his eyes focused on her brilliant blue eyes. The enchantress smiled, “You have learned much. Perhaps it is time…” She raised her hands quickly over her head and bright sparkles of light exploded outward and William was now standing in a dark forest of old trees. The sky overhead was completely obscured by the layers of leaves and tree branches from the dense forest.

In his hands he now held the unusual bow he had found in the snow covered hidden valley as well as a quiver full of plain iron arrows. A beautiful voice sang in his ears, “Find the cursed one and break the enchantment. You have the power within you. Your mortal soul is now closer to you than ever before…”

Silence then descended on William as the forest seemed devoid of life. Not a single insect buzzed or animal walked the ground in the still and stagnant air. Looking around in all directions the forest appeared to be the same with no visible paths. He closed his eyes and felt pulled in a certain direction which he followed.

The dense underbrush made travel slow as he walked for what seemed like days. The light never faded or brightened and he never became hungry, thirsty or tired. As he travelled through the woods, visions of what he knew was his past came to him. Memories of a golden shape shifting dragon from somewhere else, a very ancient being. His life in this world and the things he had done. A life guided by the gods to lead him down a path to defeat an ancient evil. A promise by the One that would gain him what he wished.

He looked down at himself; he had always felt different from those around him no matter how much he tried to fit in. Was this his final journey to attain that which he sought for so long? At that thought a distant sound came to his deprived ears which startled him. A distant crackling noise, almost imperceptible, mixed in with what sounded like the distant rumble of thunder. He continued moving in the direction of the noise.

Just then an older looking man was standing in his path with long flowing white facial hair. He was dressed in a dark blue robe and pointed wizards’ hat that had golden stars and moons haphazardly sewn to them. He carried a gnarled staff in one hand and William recognized him in an instant. He had been the one that had guided him to the firestone in the lava caves so long ago. That adventure had started the whole series of events that lead him to this place.

The two men simply stared at each other for several minutes. The Wizard finally smiled, his once clumsy demeanor gone to be replaced by one of power. “Before you lies the realm of storms but have no fear for its power holds no bondage over you. You must free the child that was bound there by the evil one.

The Wizard paused as if deciding what to say next. “Your mother and I have helped you as much as we could but the rest will be solely on your shoulders. We are both so proud of you and the sacrifices you have made to help others. With the evil one vanquished, the barriers can now be crossed, but only by the one that was covered in the evil ones blood. You, my son, are the only one that has a chance to free your sister.”

With that he faded from view. William fell to his knees, totally dumbfounded by what had just been revealed to him. Mother? Father? Sister? His head spun with these thoughts as he rested a hand on a moss covered tree for support.

The crackling noise was much louder now as well as the distant sound of thunder. He gasped for breath in the thick and oppressive air. A charge of energy also filled the air as he slowly rose up off his knees, still reeling from the revelation of who he was. The ancient memories washed over him, temporarily paralyzing him in their enormity. He pushed then to the back of his mind and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.

As he pressed forward the crackling and thunder became louder and louder. The trees around him began to change, becoming more withered and blackened. Soon a bluish light became discernable ahead and the trees became burnt out stumps. A portal of bluish white lightning became visible in the distance. Great bolts of lightning would on occasion arc off the portal and strike the burnt and smoking ground.

Within the portal William could see roiling black storm clouds and the flashes of lightning. He stood and stared at the portal for a long time, mesmerized by it. He suddenly laughed once and shook his head. Everything had a purpose although he had not seen it until now. The latest question about his immunity to lightning was now solved since there would be no going through that portal without it.

The risk was so great but how many times in his adventures could he have failed; to have permanently died? He shuddered at that thought and quickly dismissed it. His sisters captivity and freedom was certainly worth any price? William smiled at that. His sister…

With new determination he strode towards the circular portal of blue lightning; great bolts of electric energy streamed off the portal and struck William as he advanced on it. The closer he got the more it struck at him. He was quickly at the portals entrance and looked at the storm tossed landscape on the other side.

A constant arc of energy now struck him which caused little effect on him. He did, however, feel something inside of him growing, like an internal power of some kind, like he was absorbing the energy. It was an oddly disconcerting feeling.

When he felt he was ready, he stepped into the maelstrom of the portal and the world around him seemed to swirl and swim.

[DarkRider]

It was early morning and the sun had only begun its long rise into the sky when Brother Piner stepped outside from Weynon House, heading to the chapel for morning mass. The chill of a passing breeze caught him off guard and he shivered, uttering an audible shudder as he clapped his hands to warm them. The tower bell began to ring marking the call to prayer and he hurried to answer its resounding clatter. As he crossed the yard an odd motion caught his eye and for the first time he noticed the large silver dappled horse standing near the side of the road leading into the priory, nibbling on grass around the body of its fallen rider.

“Sweet Talos,” he exhaled, gathering his robes to hurry over to the rider’s aid. Coming closer Piner took the horse’s dangling rein and tugged him away from the body before crouching to check for life. The rider was a young man, he’d been badly beaten and was unconscious, groaning in pain, but he was alive. He studied the young man’s face, he’d seen him before not long ago; despite the swelling and bruising he was sure of it. Piner stood and hurried to the chapel, finding the other brothers inside already in prayer. Brother Jauffre cast him an annoyed glare for his lateness and untimely interruptions, but Piner hurried to explain, “Forgive me brothers,” he began, “You’d better come. A young man has arrived in the yard and he’s been injured quite badly,” his eyes fell on one of the elder brothers, “I’m sorry to say, Thomas, I believe it’s your young friend.”

The old monk felt the air escape him, “Quinlan…”

========================================

Across the Imperial Preserve…

As Red reached the wooded path leading home to the Tavern, she slid down from Savior’s saddle and took the little pony’s reins in hand to lead him up the road. She needed some distance between herself and the dread blade, for the last hour cruel whispers had been seeping forth from the saddle bag that carried the cursed weapon. Savior, always tuned into the needs of his lady, trailed well behind, allowing his reins to stretch nearly their length from his mouth to her hand, creating as much distance between them as possible. The whispers quieted as she strolled along the path, leading her mount toward the hill behind the Tavern where her former self lay. She was suddenly struck with the unfairness of it all. Fate had dealt her a remarkable chance to return with her daughter’s sacrifice. She was able to begin anew and leave the shadows of her past buried in the cold earth with her corpse. Now here she was, her steps haunted by her former life and her face flushed angrily; so much for starting over.

When she reached her grave site, still unearthed from its robbing, she allowed Savior’s reins to drop from her hand, took a long slow breath, and retrieved the dread blade from her pack. Loosed from the bag, the whispers began again in earnest, though they were far away. While it didn’t hold the same power over her as when it was uncovered it was enough to make her skin crawl uncomfortably. Red carried the blade over to her grave and stood over the opening, staring at the coffin at the bottom. Her hands clenched around the weapon in hand and warm angry tears stung at her eyes, though she refused to let them fall. She wanted to say this was the end and that the blade would be gone forever once returned to the casket, but in truth, it would never be gone. Another fiend had only to dig it up and desecrate her grave again to give the Night Mother a chance at claiming her soul. Deeper below the surface of her anger was the fear that it was too late, that nothing she did could keep the brotherhood from coming for her now.

“So what’s the plan,” Carter’s smooth voice broke into her thoughts, catching her off guard, Red spun quickly, palming her sword as she turned, to find the assassin leaning against the tree she was buried beneath.

“What do you care, Assassin?” she growled angrily, as he had interrupted a very private moment.

Carter shrugged, pulling at his leather gauntlet as if to tighten it, “Don’t mistake curiosity for caring,” he answered honestly, he wouldn’t quantify himself as invested in her plight, merely interested, for reasons that were as elusive for him as for her, “You know as well as I do there’s no sense in reburying that relic, what’s done is done.”

She eyed him darkly. He’d been asking around about her, or else had put some of the pieces together for himself, but he knew what lay in the grave below and he was right, it wasn’t enough to return the dread blade to her corpse’s caring. She needed to dispose of it somewhere it would never be found.

“Somewhere in this land is a deep dark hole, or an endless bog, or…something,” she said, strolling over to Savior and dropping the dread blade back into his saddle bag, “I will find it and put this thing into an abyss so deep it will never be found,” she said with satisfaction in her answer, cinching up her saddle.

“At least you hope it won’t be,” Carter replied nonchalantly, retrieving Flint’s reins and leading his horse out into the open from the brush, “of course…every day, from the instant you leave that place you will think about it. Is it safe? Is it still there? Has it been discovered?” he stepped up into Flint’s saddle and shrugged again, “could drive a person mad just thinking about it.”

She paused before climbing into Savior’s saddle, “Well you’re so clever,” she said in annoyance as his words rang true, “what am I going to do with it then?” she asked aloud, as much to herself as the assassin, as she took her seat atop her pony.

“Ride with me,” he answered simply turning Flint’s head toward the plains and kneeing him forward toward the road.

Red hesitated a moment, watching his back as he rode down the hill at a smooth clip. Since she’d met Carter Cadlew he’d seemed to be unsettlingly one step ahead of her but, so far, he hadn’t led her astray. Perhaps it was time to extend a little faith, though her trust she would reserve. Red kneed Savior forward, “Come on boy, only one way to find out what he has up his sleeve…besides a knife.”

[charlescrowe]

Raurke smiled, a thing he rarely did in these dark days, as he looked around. A sense of peace washing over him as he got ever closer to the one place he had considered home since his parents' deaths. "Ah, a pint would do these bones good." he teased himself, the exposed bones of his sword arm clicking and clacking in response as he walked. The smile on his face got ever wider as he spotted an unmistakable flash of red hair. Raurke had nearly Flitted to the woman's side before he noticed a dark, brooding figure riding along with the familiar woman. Deciding to err on the side of caution, he yelled out. "Hoy, Red!"

[DarkRider]

Red paused and drew up Savior’s head when she heard her name called. Across the field she saw Raurke making his way toward the Tavern offering her a broad grin and a friendly wave. She returned the gesture, but as she lowered her wave, the smile faded from her lips. ”Stay away, Raurke” she bid him silently in her mind, relieved when he seemed to understand and turned his attention back to the Tavern. Somehow, this felt like something she needed to face alone, and with Carter she was. Red tugged Savior’s reins around and kneed him forward after the assassin; while he wasn’t far ahead, it was clear he wouldn’t wait for her if she fell behind. She didn’t know where they were going but somehow she knew it would be some time before she saw the Tavern again. She hoped her friends would be well and the fires would burn string in their hearth until her return.

--------------------------------

Back at Weynon Priory…

Consciousness returned to him, not with a sudden arrival as thunder, but as a slow trickle of life as his heavy eyes lifted open, first a crack, then a bit further. A familiar face smiled down from over him, “Elm…” he whispered, not recognizing the voice as his own for its raspy harshness. The wizened face peering down at him smiled and became clearer.

“That’s it my Lad,” the old monk encouraged, coaxing him away from the void of his dreams.

His mind began to clear with his vision, “Thom,” he accepted the stone goblet of water the monk held out to him and drank hastily.

“Easy now,” Thomas withdrew the water and eased Quinn back with his other hand, “don’t push yourself so hard, you’ve had a nasty run in with something.”

Quinn groaned as his body began checking in and sending his brain pain reports. His hand moved to rub his head, “What happened?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, I was hoping you might when you came to, but it’s no surprise with that knot on your head that you don’t,” Thomas laughed, “don’t worry, I have had my share of beatings I can’t recall…even now. Those holes in your memory are just one of the perks to adventuring. Never know when you’ll wake up in a prison somewhere with no inkling of your station,” he chuckled a bit further before offering Quinn a bowl with some sort of creamed grain inside.

Quinn sat up and accepted the bowl and though he didn’t feel particularly hungry, he did his best to swallow down a bit. As he pondered his meal, flickers of memory came back to him; nothing he could put together firmly but it was a start, “I think I was robbed …there were thieves.”

“Aye you were robbed,” Thomas said, doing his best to help, “you remember the highwayman’s trap in Anvil harbor when you first came to Cyrodiil? A thief stole your brother’s ring.”

Quinn nodded, “That I remember…this came later…in the Imperial City I think.”

“Looking for the Tarnean medallion?”

The images replayed in Quinn’s mind slower but more solid than ever, “Yes,” he set his bowl aside and swung his legs out of bed, “I went to see the Thieves Guild sponsor, the get back the medallion Turk might have given him as part of his guild due,” he found his boots beside the bed and began to put them on, “his men were hiding in the shadows, I was outnumbered.”

“Good, your memory came back quickly,” Thomas helped him as he moved to stand, “but Quinn, you can’t leave now, you’ve only begun to recover, it’s too soon. You should give yourself a chance to rest. Think Lad.”

Quinn shook his head, “There’s no time for rest, if the sponsor does have father’s medallion I’ve got to get it back and I’ll need help.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” Thomas announced, “at least until you are steady enough to go it alone.”

The young Imperial moved to argue but he surrender to the firm set in the old man’s jaw, “Alright then, together,” he started down the stairs with Benjamin in tow.

“So where are we going?” the old monk asked, grabbing his hat and satchel from the hook near the door as they passed.

“There’s a Tavern not far from here where we can get supplies, some of my belongings are there,” Quinn answered, suddenly realizing he was unarmed and fleeced of anything he had of any value, “it will take a few days to walk there.”

Thomas smiled, “That’s why we should ride,” he motioned toward the priory yard, “Titan is waiting in the paddock.”

Quinn grinned; it seemed not everything of value had been lost after all.

-------------------------

Across Cyrodiil…

Days had passed since Red left the Tavern to follow Carter on this mysterious quest to release her from the dread blade. As they rode, they spoke little, aside from brief interludes about making camp or some cryptic coordination when fending off bandits or beasts. The silence suited Carter, it was what he preferred; he was accustomed to long roads with no companionship. For Red it only left her open to the nagging whispers wafting forth from her saddlebag and desperate times do call for desperate measures.

“So, do you at least want to tell me where we’re going?” she finally asked aloud what she had been pondering for the last few hours. They had already long passed the Imperial City isle and the road ahead looked endlessly long.

As they neared a stream crossing, Carter brought Flint to a stop and dismounted to walk his steed to the water for a drink, “Probably better if you don’t know.”

Red feigned as genuine a laugh as she could muster, “Why? You think I won’t go along if I know?”

He turned a serious face toward her, “I know you won’t.”

Red’s smile faded as she dismounted, “Why do you say that?” she pressed, leading Savior to the water’s edge, “you don’t know me half as well as you seem to think.”

“I know you’re afraid,” Carter said quietly, reaching a soft hand out to pet Flint’s broad neck, "which is enough to know you won't go."

“I’m not afraid,” she answered with a hasty posturing reflex, a second thought made her push him further, “What exactly am I supposed to be afraid of?”

Carter eyed her for a long moment, weighing what he should say. It was important that they reach their destination, and if Red knew where that was she may not be willing to follow; in fact he would wager it so. Despite the intent in her eyes, he turned away and led Flint back to the road.

“You’ll find out when we get there soon enough,” he said as he stepped into his saddle.

Red felt her face flush. She wanted to scream at his back as he started off ”What do you think I am some sort of waif to be lead around like a child?!” but she knew that would only open her up to some smug retort on his end. So for now, she would bite her tongue and follow, praying they would get to their destination soon, before she became unable to resist the murderous urges he was stirring in her.

[charlescrowe]

The familiar aromas of roasting lamb and stale mead brought a sense of comfort to Raurke, as he “awoke†on the fourth or fifth evening back at the tavern; he had lost almost all sense of the passage of time after these some 5 years of “unlifeâ€. The man hadn’t really been sleeping, so much as letting his spirit roam the astral plane as the effects of the restoration spell he had cast before letting the fatigue of several week’s time awake finally take its toll on the undead shell that was his body. Raurke took several moments to loosen stiff joints, filing away a rather boring conversation in the astral with one Pelinal Whitestrake. A tiresome fool, rambling on about a silly mistake he’d made in life.

On his way down, a scullery maid (likely a new hire, as Raurke had never seen her face before.) called out to him and handed him an unassuming piece of parchment, saying that a strange Dunmer wearing a similar black robe as Raurke had left it for him two days before. As the maid bustled off to some tedious chore, Raurke muttered a curse under his breath. He’d told his underlings not to come anywhere near the tavern, fearing some unknowing, but well meaning fool would out them as necromancers; a situation he would rather not be put in.

“Master Dusk shadow,

The Court wishes to remind you of your situation. Meet at the usual place in six days, that we may discuss your future within our ranks. Remember, the quality and extent of your unlife hangs on your answer.â€

The contents of the letter brought shock to Raurke’s face, he had completely forgotten about the Revenant Court; a sinister group of men and mer of the same breed of undead as Raurke, bent on the destruction of the Church of the Nine.

_______________________________________________________________

The sunset over the Anvil docks was as beautiful as ever, this time of year, and the docks were busy with commotion as citizens hustled and bustled about their daily routine. No one noticed the Elf sitting on the roof of “Gadget’s Gear and Kit†Serenity had come back to Anvil to pass the time working for the short-tempered elf whose roof she was currently loitering on. It seemed like ages since her brother had disappeared, and she was beginning to worry.

Serenity had nearly fallen off the roof when a skeletal hand squeezed her shoulder, letting out a scream of terror, she turned and belted her would-be assailant, only to feel her brother’s cheek bone crack sharply as her fist connected. “Gods’ blood, woman!†Raurke spat as he staggered back. Serenity’s face changed from one of shock to something resembling sheer hatred “Oh, you’re still alive?†she scoffed, turning back to look out on the Abecian Sea. “Not for much longer, I’m afraid…†Raurke trailed off.

“What in Mara’s name does THAT mean?†Serenity hissed, clearly not amused. Raurk’s expression stopped her cold “I’ve gotten tied up with some rather unsavory folk, sister, and they mean to kill me if they don’t get what they want from me.†The man continued, “I just wanted to see your face one last time before they do.†And with that, his image blurred, fading away.

Edited January 25, 2011 by charlescrowe

[DarkRider]

Somewhere in Solstheim…

Grond awoke in darkness, the crackling of a fire nearby was the first thing to awaken his ears and its warmth heightened his senses. He was warm…very, but beyond whatever shelter he’d found himself in he could hear the wind whipping fierce and cold.

“You’re awake,” a distantly familiar voice spoke through the darkness. He turned his head to see a shadowed form, its features concealed by the fire burning behind it casting darkness between them. He squinted, trying to make out a face, grunting as he tried to sit or rise from where he was laying, “Be still old friend. You’re safe; do you not know my voice for the dark?”

The figure moved to his bedside and a flicker of spark brought a candle to life beside his pallet, casting light onto both of their faces, “Rider…as I live an’ breathe,” Grond exhaled painfully, “I am still alive aren’t I? By Stendarr! I haven’t met ye in the grey veils yet have I?”

Rider laughed and clapped a hand on the Nord’s shoulder, “No my good friend, you are still alive and well…for the most part. Have you any memory of where you are and what’s happened?”

Grond shook his head discovering a new pain with a groan, “Can’t remember anything…I was at the Tavern…no…I was in Udolf….wasn’t I?” he asked as a fierce wind whipped outside sending the briefest chill wafting through their shelter. He looked around at the walls, it was mostly a cave, but there were elements of a shelter, wooden walls to wick away the natural dank of the cave, a fireplace built of stone and mortar. This was a proper ranger’s camp. He’d heard Rider tell of how many such camps speckled Tamriel in hidden places known only to those who called the wilds home, but had never visited one himself, “Where are we?”

Rider passed him a mug of a deep rooted brew, “Drink this, its mandrake, speeds healing,” Rider set himself on a stool beside him, “We’re in Solstheim, less than a league south of your village by my memory. Do you remember coming here?”

Grind grimaced as he swallowed the bitter brew and shook his head, more gently and deliberately than before, “I’m not sure. I remember coming here with our friends, Red, William, and some new friends too. We went to save my mum from a terrible fate of my own doing.”

Rider cocked an eyebrow at him and withdrew his pipe from his vest, lighting it as he listened to Grond speak, but didn’t interrupt him.

“I remember we trekked here together, there was a terrible storm, then we got to my village…then,” he looked to the ceiling as if trying to pluck the story from his addled memory, but the harder he tried to remember the details the more it slipped away, “I remember the tower, and rescuing my mum…then…going home, to Udolf. My whole life has been a lie,” he fairly choked over the last part. He looked at Rider, trying to read a reaction but Rider just stared at him quizzically.

After a moment the ranger exhaled a long sweet bloom of smoke and pointed at him with the stem of his pipe, “That must have been some blow to your head.”

Grond balked, “What are ye on about Rider? I have no mind fer yer mysterious manners now, out with it. What happened?”

“Draugrs,” Rider answered evenly, “You made decent work of them from what I found, but they had numbers on you and the advantage, looked like you dropped with your hammer still wedged in one of their skulls,” he painted the tale for his old friend, watching Grond’s eyes widen with the revelation, “I received word from Red some weeks ago, you’d gotten herald from Solsthiem that something had happened to your father and you’d gone off, bull headed as usual, to save him on your own,” he took another drag from his pipe, “They tried to follow you but lost your trail at the edge of Solstheim when a blizzard wiped all trace away. With no trail to follow they had to go back, Red thought with my tracking skill I might be able to find you. Of course I’d have probably missed you if Serenity hadn’t caught sight of the blood in the vale where we found you.”

Grond looked across the room, noticing the elegant bird perched near the fire, preening her golden brown feathers lovingly, “Kika,” he exhaled. New images flashed into his mind, the Draugrs had swarmed him in the valley below his family village when he’d tried to cross under the blizzard waging in the tall forests. He had a memory of Rider standing over him, the ranger’s hawk crying on the wind, the sound of Legion nearby. He’d been tied to the black stallion on a litter and dragged to safety. His mind was starting to clear.

“But what of the icy tower? And the spirits who took my dear mum to her prison there?”

Rider shook his head and shrugged, “Grond mate…your mum was killed by reavers when you were just a boy? Don’t you remember? You’ve only told me the story a hundred times at least…maybe two hundred.”

It had been a dream, all of it. How long had he slept? The whole thing had seemed so real, he had been devastated inside when he’d first woken, but as reality began to creep back in the anguish left his heart and he felt renewed with purpose.

“My dad still needs me,” he began to rise but Rider moved to set a hand on his shoulder.

“Aye, but easy now old Nord,” the ranger said gently, “its dark yet, let that draught take hold of your wounds and we’ll leave at first light.”

“We?”

“Aye Grond, aye,” Rider smiled, leaning back in his chair, “you don’t think I’d let you face this alone do you? Mik and Legion are sheltered a stone’s throw from here, at daybreak, we ride for your village.”

Grond’s jaw locked into fierce grin, “Aye…that does me heart good. Ye and me riding together again after all this time. But what of the Tavern? Gods know when either of us will return there now.”

“Red will take care of her, and William, the barkeeps will help them too until we come back, and sooner or later Grond, we always do, eh?” the ranger finished his pipe in a restful manner.

Grond smiled feeling his heart lighten, “We do at that old friend, somehow we do at that.”

---------------------------------

True to his word, Rider roused the Nord from his heavy rest as the first ray of light lit the horizon beyond their shelter and in only moments they had wolfed down a bit of jerky and hard tack, gathered their supplies, mounted up and turned their steeds toward the North. As they came to a rise, the sky was so clear Grond could see for miles to the west. He imagined he could even see the Tavern, his good friends chattering over some latest adventure to a joyful tune over a pint of fine ale. A hawk flew low over his head and he chided the winged princess playfully as he followed her after Rider. It was time for another adventure, and though he didn’t know when he would return, someday, he would set foot in the Tavern again.

+--<@+@>--+

[WillieSea]

The white horse darted through the swirling mists, jumping over a blackened boulder on the rocky burnt ground. She sensed a change had suddenly occurred, a change in the very atmosphere. The shadow still hunted her as she bolted under an overhanging rock structure. She had been running from the spawn of the evil one for what seemed an eternity.

She could now sense the change; it was to the barriers that held her in this blasted realm. Recently with the death of the evil one, the barriers had weakened, allowing her to partially escape this realm to another, a place of green grasses, meadows of flowers, thick tree forestss and blue skies! It had been a wonderful change from the constant storm clouds and burnt, smoking earth which she currently galloped over.

A bolt of lightning blasted a pinnacle of rock sending a shower of stone fragments down where she had just been as the roar of the beast sounded from somewhere behind her. Then, suddenly, there was an incredibly loud booming noise as if a constant stream of lightning were striking somewhere. The very air around her changed and seemed to become charged with energy.

The shadow beast must have sensed the change too as it screeched angrily behind her. She now felt drawn to the location the booming noises came from. She felt a sensation she had not felt in a long while, warmth and hope. The creature was no longer following her but going towards that noise, and she realized that she had to reach what had made the change first.

* * *

William looked around, slightly dazed for a moment after passing through the portal. He had a feeling of déjà vu, like he had gone through one of the Oblivion gateways. But there was no lava here, only boiling black storm clouds that flashed lightning into a barren and blasted landscape.

Powerful arcs of lightning rolled off the portal and blasted at William with no ill effects other than making a deafening noise. He moved away from the energetic gateway and into the maelstrom with the bow firmly in his grip.

He scanned the landscape in all directions and found nothing to indicate there was any life in this realm. Flashes of lightning illuminated the horizon in all directions and filled the air with a constant rumbling.

A flash of lightning then illuminated something silvery white on the ground that was moving towards him. William took a step backwards which brought him into range of the portals arcing energy again. As the white creature came closer, he noticed that it was a white horse that galloped at full speed up to him and stopped just short of the portal.

Then a darkness seemed to close in from the same direction, a shadow that could only be seen by the darkness that followed it and the two evil red eyes that seemed to float in mid-air. The eyes suddenly reminded William of another creature of evil he had killed recently…

Without thinking he ran and jumped onto the back of the white horse and grabbed a handful of mane as it shot forward and away from the shadow and the portal. Lightning continued to strike all around them as the wind from the wild ride blew his hair back. The shadowy creature roared behind them as they galloped forward, off into the mists and away from the only exit from this realm. William hoped he was not now trapped here forever…

[charlescrowe]

Footsteps echoed in the darkness as Raurke quickly made his way down a twisting and winding stair, deft feet carrying the elf down them as if the darkness were non-existent. The chamber he had now entered was black as night, the atmosphere within, darker still as the combined auras of countless unseen unliving were lurking within. "Lively bunch we have here." Raurke muttered, unavailingly trying to lift the oppressing darkness that had now dampened his already somber mood.

"Ah, Master Duskshadow, we've been expecting you." a cloaked figure sneered. "I hope you've a... most agreeable answer to our query." The cloaked figure, almost assuredly the Prime Revenant said. Raurke had never had the displeasure of speaking directly to the foul retch... until now. "Unfortunate news for you, your 'unholiness'" Raurke sneered back, he knew what was coming. "Love for the Nine I may not have, but I do have my... standards... in whom I wage war with. Frankly, I haven't got the gall to spit in the face of the gods. I'll have to take a rain check on your little party." The cloaked figure's response was far from surprising. "Ill news indeed. you would have made a fine successor, should the need arise. It seems we'll have to gain your support the hard way." There was a shuffling, followed by the clink and clatter of heavy chains. "Take him to the hole, and give him a convincing treatment." If the room could have gotten any darker, Raurke would've said Grond was handsome by elven standards.

_________________________________________________________________

The pony reared violently as the gray skies darkened with claps of thunder, tossing it's rider, pack and all to the ground as it bolted away. "Oblivion take you, you retched beast!" the disgruntled, disheveled rider yelled after the beast, getting up and dusting herself off. Malori was small a sprite of a girl even by Bosmer standards. "Grr, looks like rain." she muttered to herself, gathering bow, rapier, pack, and lute as she spied an ancient-looking trap door in the bushes about 5 meters off the road. "Looks like shelter comes easy tonight".

[DarkRider]

Many weeks passed…

Thick rain clouds hung low over the city of Bravil. The air was balmy and humid, as though a sweat would break if there was any movement in the air to wick it away, but instead her harrowed citizens were forced to trudge about in a sort of living stagnation within the city’s walls, praying for a break in the wet that the sun might dry out their misery. Red wrinkled her nose as she sat at the bar of the Lonely Suitors Lodge sipping her ale. Another traveler had arrived, shaking the rain from his coat as he entered, and the pungent smell of wet Khajiti fur was enough to sear into the senses. The city was rank with that musky dank of soggy cat and after so many days, it was getting old. Red abandoned her ale and headed outside, deciding to brave the relentless shower over the close quarters inside.

Stepping out onto the street, the lady thief found little respite, the clouds overhead were so thick they seemed to be sitting perfectly still where they lofted and there was little more than a thermal draft wafting through the city to refresh her. She pulled the collar of her tunic closer to her neck to keep out the wet and headed through the city with no particular destination in mind. She and Carter had arrived in Bravil weeks ago; stabling their horses there they had stayed and seemingly to no end. She could not imagine their purpose. She longed to visit Savior in the stables, but knew the dread blade’s power would be insatiably strong by now having been loosed in the world; it was safer if she stayed away. Carter’s presence had been scarce, they had separated shortly after booking into the lodge, and she only saw him around the bar on occasion when he came looking for her. He wouldn’t answer her questions, only reaffirm that she should wait, and after a few days she stopped asking anything of him altogether.

Dusk was falling, and the rain began to pick up, bringing with it a slight breeze that whipped her suddenly. Red lifted her head and as if by design she saw Carter standing in the narrow alleyway between two stack houses just ahead of her. It was the first time in all of her excursions around town that she had managed to spot him and curiosity drew her closer. Just as she came up behind him he moved ahead, glancing back over his shoulder ever so slightly to acknowledge her. She knew then, she had to follow, this was no accident, this was what they had come for.

Weaving through the back rows of houses, Carter led her to a place where the residences broke into a shambled courtyard. At the center was the statue of an old woman, and aside from a short Bosmer nearby who seemed to be admiring the craftsmanship, the place was devoid of life. Carter held his place in the shadows, allowing her to pass him and take in the scene for herself before he finally spoke, in a voice so soft in her ear.

“Do you remember what this felt like?” he asked evenly, “courting the shadow, stalking your quarry, planning the kill?”

She felt a strange stirring in the pit of her stomach, akin to butterflies, and she realized her heart was pounding. Something was placed into her hand, and she glanced down to see the dread blade, her senses immediately beginning to fill with the silent whispers of the night mother. Carter’s hands were on her shoulders then and his voice broke passed the whispers.

“Stay with me, assassin,” he said coolly, “focus on your target.”

Her eyes locked on the Bosmer ahead, but inside she was screaming at herself, disjointed as if she had become two minds, one trapped within the other conscious and vigilant, the outer lost in a haze of manipulation and distortion. Carter’s voice continued to vie for control over the dread blade’s curse.

“He is the current Listener for the brotherhood; her lips are at his ear even now sentencing death,” he stayed close to her, “this is your chance to bring this thing full circle, Red. Face your past, it's the only way to be rid of it.”

She knew what she had to do, and without thinking, moving purely on instinct, Red dashed into the courtyard, flitting from shadow to shadow soundlessly as if going through the delicate steps of a dance she had long forgotten. It was a dance, one she had once been skilled in, a part of herself she had tried to deny for many years. The Listener never stopped to test the air, no sense betrayed her approach, and he was at ease in his task as though in this place he was untouchable. Her stroke was swift and sure as Red plunged the dread blade into the Listener’s ear, the silence around her erupting into unearthly howls and for an instant, the ghostly form of the night mother appeared before her, the dread blade driven into her mouth. Red stared into her blank eyes.

“You don’t own me anymore,” she seethed, allowing her hate to give her strength. The visage faded without a reply but the crows in the trees beyond took to the air, an omen of things to come. The gauntlet had been thrown down, and retribution would be terrible. Red walked back to where Carter was waiting.

“I’m impressed,” he said, “I expected you to slit his throat, the ear thing was a nice touch.”

“Just came to me,” Red said smiling. Carter barked a clipped laugh then headed away from the alley, “Come on. Let’s get out of this stinking city before another bloody cat decides to take a shower in the street.”

She started to follow him then hesitated, glancing over her shoulder at the Listener’s still form lying crumpled at the base of the statue. She had taken a life and not in battle, but as a message, a token kill. It was a dark act, and in the aftermath she had felt exhilarated and even…pleased. The Red within had become quiet, there was only one Red now, the assassin, and for the time being, she had found a new master; one who promised to release her.

[WillieSea]

William was not sure how much time had passed as they rode through the burnt and barren landscape. It could have been an eternity for all he could tell. Lightning struck all around them, blasting the higher stones as they travelled through the rubble strewn terrain. Will looked back; the shadowy creature still followed them, as enraged as ever, trying to close the gap between them.

Suddenly, the protective high stone pillars thinned and vanished as the landscape ahead sloped downward into what looked like a bowl shaped valley devoid of any protection from the storm. The white horse whinnied in fear and shook its mane as it stopped at the precipice of the valley. Lightning could be seen blasting the bare ground in a much intensified manner and Will knew there would be no protection from it if they rode down into the crater.

A vicious scream echoed from behind then sending the White horse into a gallop down the shallow valley wall and into the maelstrom! Lightning struck William as they rode down to the heart of the valley in an increasingly never-ending stream of bolts the further into the center of the valley they rode. As each bolt struck, William felt a welling up of energy inside of him and it cried for release!

It was then that he started to understand the seemingly random turns and twists of his life were all leading him to this time and this place. There was something he needed to do here and he knew he had to figure it out quickly as time would be precious.

The shadow creature seemed to gain new energy and it raced towards them from behind. Instinctively William pulled out his bow and nocked an arrow. He was little surprised as he concentrated on his shot that the arrow seemed to fill with some of the electrical energy he felt inside himself. He loosed the arrow and it sailed in a high arc through the air finding its mark in the shadowy beast. The arrow passed through it but the electrical energy exploded and cascaded over its form, giving it the shape of a large and grotesquely malformed half vampire, half werewolf creature. The shadow stumbled from the blast as William and he White horse raced on towards a faint glow that appeared through the mists at the center of the valley.

The lightning continued to blast at William since he was the highest point on the almost barren crater floor. The glow was coming from a round shield of intense electrical energy that surrounded a pedestal. And on that pedestal; floating and still beating, was a large deformed and blackened heart.

William jumped down from the horse to inspect the strangely mesmerizing patterns in the shield. Unfortunately, the horse was now struck by the mighty bolts of electricity and was knocked to the ground, a blackened mark where the bolts had blasted its once pure white coat. Then the shadowy form came into view in the distance, a booming laugh emanating from its shifting form as it advanced.

William thought quickly, the horse had brought him here for a reason, he knew it. But it now lay on the ground, un-moving and smoldering. The shadow beast was closing in fast and without the horse, there would be no escaping from it.

And then there was the beating heart that was shielded from all things behind an electric barrier. Thinking quickly, William nocked another arrow and wished, commanded the energy within him to fill the arrow. The bow glowed brightly as the simple arrow took on the energy.

* * *

The shadow creature had closed the distance, leaping into the air to come down in a crushing attack on William. Its fangs and claws were fully extended; its shadowy form seemed to coalesce as it neared the barrier hiding the beating heart. Drool lathered on its sharpened fangs as it thought about the taste of blood once more in its mouth.

* * *

William released the arrow which shot forward, through the seemingly impenetrable shield, the electric fields combining, allowing the arrow to smoothly pass through undamaged. A glance upward and Will saw his death coming in the form of fang and claw. And yet, he was satisfied with it and gladly awaited it for some odd reason he could not fathom in that instant of time.

* * *

The arrow pierced the beating heart, sending blood spraying the inside of the shield. The heart then shriveled and turned to ash as the lightning shield collapsed around it. The shadow creature dropped William from its mouth and screeched into the sky as its form dissipated into the howling winds.

* * *

Darkness. That is all there was, nothing more and nothing less. Time meant nothing here, where ever here was. And then there was a small speck of light. There was no dimension to the place to know if it was in the distance or just very small. The light gradually became brighter until it became recognizable as a star. The star was familiar, and a memory on a Tavern roof flitted through consciousness. A star high above that twinkled down on him.

As the star became brighter, the clouds of light surrounding it became a face, the face of Sherena! A sudden feeling welled up in him, of identity, of purpose, of hope. The darkness began to fade as the light seemed to permeate everything. The intensity of the light was blinding and seemed to last forever.

As the light faded, a landscape of trees and grasslands came into focus. Of blue skies with white puffy clouds. Of insects and birds telling the tale of life in the land. William looked around, confused as to where he was and who he was.

He looked down at himself and saw he wore some form of blackened metallic ring armor. A blackened sword with the grip being a dragons neck and the pommel crafted as a dragons head with its mouth open, its fangs holding onto an iridescent red gem of some kind. The cross-guard were two outstretched dragon wings while down the length of the blade were inscriptions in some long dead language that glowed briefly as he looked at them.

He then looked around, dazed. A thought came to him, he was William. The champion of the people. He had a purpose and that was all he needed to know. That was all he could hope for. He strode purposefully down the tree lined dirt road, heading north to the only home he had ever known in this land.

Home…

[Xinimator]

“Admit it,â€

“No,â€

“You know I'm just going to keep bugging you until you admit it, right?â€

“And you know that I will pull you off that damn horse, tie you up, and then gag you until we reach an inn, right? And you know, on that thought, I think I should keep you tied up like that until I grow old and die...."

"Ha, you wouldn't do that. You love me too much,â€

“Watch me,â€

“Fine, I will,"

Alistair glared before snapping the reins on his horse to get him to move. Cesare whined a little in protest, but he quickly obliged and sped up into a trot until they were in front of the mare. With a small glare, he pulled at the reigns on his horse sharply, causing the two of them to stop right in front of his companion.

The female rider growled a little in annoyance at the sudden blockage and pulled at her mare's reigns to stop her before they rammed into each other. But her annoyance soon turned into a wide smirk as she stared back at Alistair, “When will you ever admit that you have a certain love for them?â€

“I will not because I do not have a 'love' for them,†Alistair growled a little at her, “Now.....how about you be a good little sister and stay silent for the rest of the trip? Hm?â€

“You know denial's the same thing as admitting it,†Nina snickered at him and gently guided her horse around her brother's so that they could resume traveling.

“Grr.....one of these days....†Alistair shook his head, but he didn't say anything else. He really did love his sister. She did so many things for him that it would probably be impossible for him to repay her anytime in the future. But sometimes he can't help but wish that he could slip a necklace enchanted with a silence spell around her neck.

“One of these days you'll find out that you're pathetic without me. I know, I know,†Nina chuckled, though not unkindly. But when her brother didn't respond anymore, she shrugged gently and the two of them traveled in silence, the native wildlife and their thoughts being the only things keeping them company, “.....Alistair, you need to lighten up a little....,†she said all of the sudden, “It's been almost a year now and we're as far away from those cities and that prison than we've ever been.....â€

“And yet the memories of it still stab me in the heart,†he muttered and turned his head away to hide the shame that was in his eyes. It was still hard to believe everything that had happened and that it was his fault....Dear gods, what have I done to deserve this.....?

Nina merely looked at him sadly and sighed gently before turning back to the road ahead of them. The sun a few moments ago had been streaming down pleasantly through the treetops of the forest, basking the ground with an almost artwork display of sunlight and shade. But now, almost in synchronization with her brother's mood, dark ominous clouds were now forming on top of their heads and bringing along cold wind and an air of a downpour coming.

It took a while for Alistair to notice this. But, when he felt a cold water drop his the back of his neck, he finally snapped out of his reverie and turned his brown eyes to glance up at the sky, "Gah, damn weather...." he muttered and tilted his head down to survey the roads. It wasn't long before the two of them halted when they reached an intersection, with no clue as to which direction to head to. Where there was supposed to be a signpost, there instead was a hole in the ground, the damage to the soil suggesting it had been ripped out.

Whether the sign was taken out by someone or the weather ripped it out by itself, it was rather hard to tell. Either way, the feeling in his gut suggested it couldn't bode well for either of them. Alistair merely stared at the hole cautiously for a little while before turning his head towards Nina, “Well......this was all your idea,†he said with a small chuckle, “Pick your poison,â€

“I dunno.....,†Nina frowned and turned her head up to the clouds, as if expecting the sunshine to pop through the clouds and tell them which way to go, “I know a guy said there was a tavern nearby, but he didn't say which path to take.....â€

“Well...†Alistair muttered and scratched his chin in thought while looking at the direction the clouds were rolling; they seemed to be coming from the north and it wasn't long before small water drops began hitting his face. When one of them hit him around one of his eyes, he muttered and wiped his face with his sleeve before saying, “.......I'll take my chances west. I don't feel like getting soaking wet right at this moment....no offense of course, my dear water-loving sister,†he snickered quietly, a sly smirk on his face.

She raised an eyebrow at him at the remark on her ears, “Oh? Just because I fell into a river when I was five, it gave you permission to go and tease me about it for the rest of my life....funny, Alistair," she said, trying to look threateningly. But her small smirk ruined the effect and she let out a dark chuckle before turning back to the situation at hand, "Eh....Alright, I guess we could try that way,†she shrugged. But something was still nagging her in the back of her mind as she stared at the spot of the former signpost, “.....any idea what happened to it?†she couldn't help but ask, concern in her eyes. He knew she was thinking of the exact thing.

When she saw him freeing his shortswords from the scabbards, she blinked at him before promptly freeing both of her daggers from their scabbards, “Damn......they just can't leave us alone, can they?†Nina muttered, sounding a little disappointed. This would be the fifteenth time bandits have tried tried to rob them. Though, she couldn't help but think, they have dealt with much less burglars around the border of Cyrodiil than in the lower half of Valenwood. But far from making them feel more comfortable, it only just made them a little more nervous.

“Whatever happened to it, I'm not taking a chance,†he said in a serious tone. He shifted his weight a little on the stallion before urging the him on westward. Though he couldn't help but look over his shoulder back at the empty spot, wondering what may have happened to it. It could have been something innocent. But something in the back of his mind told him this wasn't exactly the case. With a small sigh, he turned his head back to the front and kept a cautious eye on their surroundings. The thing he hated most in the world was being surprised and he was going to make sure it wouldn't happen to them tonight.

That's when things started to get a little strange. They had only walked a few feet along the western road when Cesare started whining a little, Mia following him rather shortly, “What in Oblivion....†Nina muttered and placed her hand on her mare's neck to calm her down and whispering a few discrete words in her ear. But it didn't work and, instead, they just stopped right in their tracks and started snorting in fear.

These aren't bandits... Alistair thought silently and tightened his grip on the saddle, foiling the stallion's attempt to throw him off his back and bolt for the hills, “Nina, turn around....we're not going this way....†he muttered as quietly as he could to her and tugged at her arm to get her attention. But just as he did so, they both froze as they heard a low rustle of leaves and a deep growl....

[WillieSea]

The sun shone brightly from a blue sky above, the birds chirped in the trees that lined either side of the road. A warm breeze blew in from the meadows to the East bringing with it the faint scent of flowers in bloom. It was a wonderful day to be alive.

William strode with purpose up the dirt road for a ways before he heard the gallop of hooves on the road behind him. He ducked to the side of the road as a horse as black as midnight sauntered up to him and nuzzled him in the face.

“Night!” William yelled as he threw his arms around the horses’ muscled neck. He then jumped into the empty black leather saddle and patted her on the neck. “I am so glad to see you!”

Night neighed happily and galloped up the road towards the Tavern which soon came into view. She was soon in a stall and munching happily on oats and an apple. William looked around with a new appreciation for the old building. He walked around to the front of the place and opened the front doors too the sound of many voices in conversation. The pungent oder of the many people along with the smell of freshly baked bread and the famous Tavern stew greeted him.

Arlow happened to be tending the bar and waved a greeting to William as he entered. There was suddenly a plate full of fresh buttered bread and cheeses laid next to a hearty bowl of stew. But a moment later, a mug of Apple Cider was next to it. William grinned and headed towards the barstool in front of the meal.

Arlow yelled over the noise in the Grand Hall, “Welcome back, William! What tales do you have for us this fine evening?”

A few of the regulars gathered around to hear of William’s latest adventure. After the food and drink was done, so was the tale. The majority of those who had gathered to hear it winked their eyes knowingly, another fish tale for sure! Arlow knew better and looked concerned for but a moment. Then he grinned and clapped William on the back, “It’s great to have you returned to us safely, your room is ready for you and as you left it.”

William thanked Arlow and dropped a few coins on the bar which were quickly and expertly mopped up with one of the bar cloths. Will always wondered how the barkeeps could do that but figured it was just a trick of their trade.

With the meal settling in his stomach, a tiredness suddenly overwhelmed his so he headed off to his room upstairs. The door opened and he peered in his old room. As Arlow said, it was as he had left it. None of the traps or snares he had set for would-be thieves had gone off. The door was quickly locked behind him as he laid down for some much needed sleep.

The events of the day were many but his exhaustion was greater and won out. He was soon asleep and dreaming of his family, of his sister, all reunited in the other place. They would wait for him there until he was ready to join them, when his work in this realm was finished. He also dreamed of his friends and wondered what mischief they had been up to since he was gone…

[DarkRider]

In County Kvatch...

“Who stands in the light? Tis a Blade sir.

Who defends for the right? Tis a Blade sir.

Knows glory and honor and duty by name?

Tis a Blade of the Empire, Lord Talos’s Flame.

Ba rum ba da rum

When heroes should fall? Stands a Blade sir.

Where death beats the wall? Lives a Blade sir.

For sacrifice bleeds, ne’er to vie for the fame?

Tis a Blade of the Empire, HAIL Talos’s Flame!

Ba rum bum bum

What tales will they tell?…”

“Thom,” Quinn fairly groaned from atop his mount as the pair made their way lazily down a well trodden path through the grasslands south of Chorrol, “I’m sorry old man, but if I hear one more round of that old war song, I might be forced to kill myself…or at the very least you.”

The burly old monk laughed, “With what? You’re unarmed,” he chuckled, patting the weathered katana resting across his knee at the ready in a telling promise of defending himself.

“With my bare hands if need arises,” Quinn answered, his brow furrowed only a moment then eased, “Please…just a bit of quiet, bandits frequent this pass.”

The old man relented, patting the neck of his palomino coated appaloosa, “Alright Quinlan, alright, tis a fair enough request,” he conceded, allowing them to fall into silence save for the steady pound of hoof on soft earth. It didn’t last. So many years had passed since he’d been on the open road toward adventure; his heart swelled with excitement and he found himself unable to contain it with all the discipline of a first year cadet, “Did I ever tell you the story of how you nearly became a Blade?”

“Yes,” Quinn replied in exasperation, “the Blades sent you to the Summerset Isles to recruit new blood into the Order. You saw me sparring with Bevin in the yard as you passed our estate and thought I had talent, but father wouldn’t hear of it.”

Thomas snorted, “No he wouldn’t at that. Your father….if he’d of had his way you’d be locked up in the Arcane University with your nose in a book for all time. Thank Talos for your sweet mother. She’s the reason you dodged that fate as well. What a Blade you would have made though Quinn and now look at you; on the path of an adventurer, no doubt your father is rolling in his grave.”

They passed through the grasses and into the tree line. Quinn began scouting around for the road. The last time he had traversed this back trail had been at William’s heel, and the other man was far more accustomed to making the trip back onto the main road through concealing scrubs. Thomas pulled off to the side and leaned heavily in his saddle to peer through the trees.

“I see a bridge,” he said turning Firefly’s head, “may not be the usual path but it ought to lead us onto the road, even though in a roundabout way.”

Quinn nodded, turning Titan to follow. The big stallion fairly pranced under him catching the mare’s scent ahead; he pulled up on his reins, “Don’t even think about it old boy. She knows a flashy git when she sees one.”

Titan snorted before blowing out a long whinny, but settled as if understanding. The spacing between the trees grew wider as they neared the bridge before opening altogether as Firefly’s hooves pounded the road leading up to the bridge.

Thomas smiled widely, “Talos provides.”

Quinn didn’t share his old mentor’s faith, but merely lent a halfhearted smile, and moved Titan back into the lead in the direction of the Tavern. Suddenly the sky began to darken and both horses seemed to smell trouble on the wind. Thomas leaned over Firefly’s neck, patting her gently and offering quiet words to steady her. Quinn on the other hand just held his seat as best he could under Titan’s balking and let his eyes drift up to the sky.

Overhead, the sky had darkened like a thunderhead passing in front of the sun, only beyond the clouds, the sky had turned to a blood red. The ground around them began to quake and they exchanged a knowing glance.

“I’m unarmed,” Quinn reminded the monk, eagerly accepting the steel shortsword Thomas withdrew from the bedroll behind his saddle. The air around them was still and filled with strange sounds as the rumbling grew louder.

“Look to the bridge, Quinn,” Thomas pointed.

The wooden bridge was shaking violently, coming loose of its ties and something seemed to push up from beneath it. Wood whined before cracking, ropes snapped and split and the water of the river spilled from its banks washing over the ground with such depth and force, it splashed up on them as it broke over the hooves of their mounts.

“I’ve seen this before,” Thomas said suddenly pulling Firefly around for a better look, “Near Chorrol, during the Oblivion Crisis.”

The Oblivion Crisis had struck Cyrodiil hard, but it was before his time. In the Summerset Isle, Quinn had only heard of its devastation, and seen the long cooled aftermath of a few gutted gates in the terrain surrounding Anvil, “You don’t mean this is an Oblivion Gate?!” Quinn shouted over what had become a roar of distorted noise and quaking as the center of the bridge was pushed well up over their heads.

“I’m afraid that is what I mean,” Thomas replied, drawing his katana finishing his words just as the bridge exploded into the air and a massive red swirling gate opened its twisted maw right in the center of the river. Wherever fire met water it hissed and steam rose. Both men waited, watching the gate for something to come through, but after long minutes passed, they were still alone before it. Quinn slid the shortsword into his belt.

“Come on,” he call to Thomas, “the Tavern is not far from here now, we need to warn them.”

The monk nodded, “You go on then lad, warn them, return with help. I will stay here and keep watch lest something should come through the gate unchallenged.”

His first thought was to argue, but he knew Thomas too well. The old man was already dismounting and tying Firefly to a nearby post. He turned Titan’s head toward the Tavern and kicked him with a yell into a full gallop. So much for a lazy trip across country.

[Xinimator]

They both tightened their grip on their weapons as something crawled its way through the thick bushes. Its body was grotesque and bulky, blotches of dark green fur coating its body and his three beady eyes searching the road hungrily until it rested upon the two travelers.

The horses in unison shrieked in fear and Alistair made to cling onto the saddle at Cesare's second attempt to kick him off. Staring back at the newcomer, he could clearly see that this was not a creature to be around, especially in the middle of nowhere with nobody to help them. In fact, he was a little worried this troll might have friends. While it was only a forest troll, the dumber and slower of its cousins, it still didn't help sate his fears.

It was apparent the troll was hungry; its jaw was hanging rather loosely from its hinges and droplets of saliva dripped down onto the ground as it drooled over what seemed to be a feast. With a low hungry growl, it decided it couldn't wait anymore and launched itself at the terrified mare directly in front of him, his large brute-like arms opened wide to strike her down.

Nina swore out loud as she saw it charge toward the two of them and, as quickly as she could, clambered on top of her horse. She nimbly launched herself off of the top of her mare just before the creature overtook the two and landed behind him with a thud. Alistair, unable to keep Cesare calm during the whole commotion, instead leapt off of the very frightened stallion and landed on the firm, stable earth. He spared a few moments of the battle to watch Cesare run into the thick of the woods; whether they were safe or not, Alistair was hoping it wasn't the latter.

Unfortunately, the mare wasn't so lucky with her escape. The troll promptly crashed into the poor mare just mere moments after Nina had fled the spot with a large thud and terrified whine from Mia, "Oh you stinkin' piece of...." Nina muttered darkly before she yelled, “Hey, you big stinkin' brute! I'm over here!â€

The troll, seeing the rider absent from the writhing horse that he had pinned to the ground, turned his head towards the source of the noise and, finally noticing her, bared his teeth at the Imperial. He apparently wasn't pleased from how much his meal seemed to be moving.

With a small, taunting grin, she raised a hand up and beckoned silently at the creature to give her all he's got. The troll in turn snarled at her fervently and quickly rushed towards the small female in the middle of the clearing, it's arms outstretched and claws extended to grab her...

With speed not unlike a Bosmer, she stepped quickly to the right and ducked under one of his large, reaching arms. With a small chuckle, she held up a hand towards her brother to let her handle this; it was a long time since she had come face to face with a challenge, "Aww, is that all you got? I had Slaughterfish do better than you," she said and grinned widely.

The troll made several more attempts to rush at her and pin her to the ground, but again and again she merely stepped out of his way, the grin never leaving her face for just a moment. Suddenly, the troll just stopped and merely stared at her apprehensively, pondering whether she was worth this much trouble. They were surprisingly so close together that she could count the individual ribs on the beast's torso, Huh.....that would explain the lack of bandits... Nina thought in curiosity as she stared back at him, smirking slightly, But then again, I really don't want to be someone's lunch, so.... "Heh, what's wrong? Do I not taste very good? That's weird, considering you couldn't even bite me," Nina asked in a mockingly surprised voice before chuckling a little, "Do I stink or something?"

"Okay.....I think that's enough, Nina," Alistair said cautiously, eyeing the beast a little. At the word "taste", the troll's eyes widened greedily and his mouth gaped open, the only thoughts on his mind are how delicious she looked. The thoughts of his previously failed attempts slipping out of his mind, he gave a low, lustful growl before he charged once more. This time, Nina didn't bother to move from her spot as she watched the creature rapidly gain ground towards her, her hand on the hilt of her dagger.

Before it was able to wrap his enlarged hands around the Imperial, there was a flash of steel on the corner of his eyes and a sharp, burning sensation on the side of his neck, along with the absence of his meal in front of him. With a wide smirk, Nina ripped the dagger out of soft flesh of his neck in a fluid motion, leaving a sizable gash that poured out ample amounts of blood, and kicked him sharply in the back to push it away from her.

Alistair couldn't help but be surprised, though, as he saw the troll still standing and turning his head towards Nina, a malevolent glare clearly seen in his three black, beady eyes. Normally, a wound such as that would fell an enemy very quickly. But due to their unnatural constitution, it was merely an unnaturally large thorn that managed to pierce a humanoid's neck. He was stumbling, true, but he did not show any signs of injury except for a loud whine that he had gave out prior to the knife being wrenched out of his neck. Nina muttered something under her breath and prepare herself for whenever he would launch himself at her again.

Alistair didn't want to wait for the troll to make a move this time, though, and he thought they should finish this quickly as the rain began steadily pounding the dirt around them. Making sure to stay out of the troll's line of site, he silently moved behind it, pulling one of his swords out as he figured out his plan of attack. He didn't know much about trolls, but he did know one thing: it can be killed. It's just the matter of weakening it enough. It was already starving, so it should be fairly easy. At least that was what he hoped

Just as the creature began to make a move towards his sister, he rushed over to its side at once, bringing the edge of the shortsword down onto one of the troll's hands and pinning it to the ground. The troll let out a pained wail as his wrist was suddenly immobilized by this new assailant and made to pull it away from Alistair. But the Imperial was having none of it; keeping his grip on the sword, he used almost all the weight he could spare as he struck out a sharp kick to the side of the troll's knee. While it didn't break the knee like he has hoped, the beast did double-over in pain with a loud whine, giving him a sliver of a chance where he then pulled the sword away from its wrist and brought the sword up into its face in a smooth motion, slicing the edge of the blade at its neck for the finishing blow.

The next thing he knew, the rocky ground of the road was suddenly rushing up towards him. He wasn't able to react quickly enough before he blatantly face-planted into the ground.

He could barely hear a female voice calling out to him as he stirred softly on the ground. Groaning a little, he lifted his head up and tried to figure out what exactly had just happened. A warm trickle of something thick and of some fluid ran down his cheek and in annoyance, he raised one of his hands up to wipe it away, only to find out it was blood. His face ended up mildly cut and, to his mild surprise, his ribs were throbbing achingly in pain.

He heard the troll growl fervently and, realizing the ground might not be the best place to be, he quickly climbed up to his feet and noticing that he didn't quite injure the troll the way he wanted, but he did manage to create a blind spot on his left. A wide laceration went straight from the lower-right side of his jaw up to the left temple, taking out one of his eyes in the process which looked like nothing except clearish-white fluid mingled with the unnaturally dark hue of troll blood. The creature ignored it's fruitless efforts to fell the female agent and instead turned its attention to the male in front of him, roaring loudly in displeasure.

But then a different sound came out of the troll, a piercing wail that shattered the air before progressively getting weaker and weaker. Alistair frowned a little until he saw something strange coming out of its ears.

Nina slowly pulled both of the daggers out from the dead troll's skull and kicked the bloodied, scrawny body away from her before rushing up to her brother, “Oi, you alright?â€

“I'm fine, I'm fine,†he said, waving it off as he shrugged his shoulders lightly, wiping the collecting pool of blood from his face with his sleeve, “You?â€

“I'm alright, I was a little worried about you though,†she said gently, tentatively touching one of the scratches on his face, "The damn thing hit you pretty hard,"

“It's superficial; it's nothing,†Alistair gave her a small chuckle before eying the troll on the ground, "Though I will agree with you on that part,"

“Well,†Nina said, glancing at the corpse as well, “I didn't remember hearing stories about how easy trolls can be killed. I kinda expected a better fight than what that thing gave,â€

“It was starving,†he said simply and prodded the body with his foot, “It probably didn't have enough energy to put out a full fight, you saw how it attacked Mia....â€

“Oh god....†Nina winced and ran her hand through her hair, “I hope she's alright. That damn thing ran her over like a sapling....†Not seeing her mare anywhere, she sighed heavily in distress. But it wasn't long before curiosity overcame her mind again and she asked, “Hey......don't trolls usually kill each other? You would think that they wouldn't waste such good food like that...and if that's the case, then why haven't they tried to kill each other....they're not like goblins....â€

“And when did you become an expert on trolls?†Alistair couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his sister, “For all we know, they could be mutated goblins or some mage decided it would be fun to giantize tiny gnomes and then ended up eaten in the process,â€

“Well, he did deserve it,†Nina said and shrugged a little, “Well, the lucky thing was there was only one. Could've been worse, right?â€

There was a further rustling of leaves and when Alistair turned around, expecting either one of the horses, he instead was met with another pair of eyes; the same as the enemy that attacked them before, “Aw dammit, Nina....what'd I say about jinxing things like this!?†Alistair yelled and rounded at her, giving her a small glare.

“Um.......nothing. You didn't say anything!†Nina said, glaring back before quickly turning around to yet another sound behind her, “Aw damn....†she muttered as she saw two trolls make their way through the trees, much bigger and more healthy-looking than the previous assailant. She was wondering if this might just be pushing it a little and was actually thinking about retreating, until she realized they were surrounded.

Alistair glanced at those two before turning back to the first group, both hands wielding his weapon, “If we get out of this, we are going to be having a big talk....â€

Edited May 5, 2011 by Xinimator