Fantasy The Elder Scrolls :: A New Rule (restart)

[Wackadoodle0987]

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The Elder Scrolls


A New Rule


With the Civil War ended, and the Stormcloaks defeated, the Empire - under the keen gaze of the Thalmor - have achieved victory in the conquering of Skyrim. Ulfric Stormcloak has been executed, both for the murder of High King Torygg and his war against the Empire. Unbeknownst to the Stormcloaks, the Empire had struck another accord with the Thalmor. The war had been costly, both Stormcloaks and the Legion amounting great, and devastating losses. Under scrutiny from the Cyrodiilic citizenry, the Empire faced growing concern about the losses of life in Skyrim; a war that many believed was not theirs to fight. The Thalmor too, grew impatient with the lack of progress in Skyrim, and thus proposed another deal with the Empire. The Empire reluctantly agreed, and swiftly so, the Thalmor marched into Skyrim with armies of their own. The war became nothing less than a slaughter, as their forces closed upon Windhelm; effectively choking the Stormcloaks. Upon Ulfric's capture and execution, the Stormcloak resistance weakened, and a great many of its members abandoned the movement; as with no head, it seemed they were left with no direction.


It was never pubic knowledge concerning why the Thalmor became so directly involved in the war, and sensibly so. For a time, the province was allowed a period of grace. The Empire's presence was as prevalent as usual, and the cities were given opportunity to rebuild; and the people to calm down. Even with the worship of Talos abolished, the public knew it was not worth attempting another uprising so soon. It was not long before such a peace was once more broken. The Thalmor introduced a new rule, one which Queen Elisif was bound to adhere to, though she had known of the accord between the Empire; and had hesitantly agreed - for it would at least ensure no more bloodshed occurred. A Council of Delegates was set up, with Emissaries placed in each of the Holds to ensure the will of the Thalmor was exacted. Skyrim once more was placed in a state of great malcontent. The citizens of Skyrim, especially those previously having been under Stormcloak shield and banner, became enraged. Few were content, or at least complacent with the Thalmor influence being so strong, and so naturally people rose against the decree. To reduce the damage as such, the Thalmor moved their troops once more into Skyrim. With such an overbearing presence in all of the Holds, and common patrols along the main roads, it was clear that the Thalmor had the strength to contend with Skyrim; and would not be lax in its rule. While the Jarls were not acquiescent in accepting the presence of the Thalmor, nor their soldiers in their cities, those that resisted were faced with threats. Some were forced to abdicate, though new Jarls were not elected, but rather Thalmor Emissaries claimed the position; whilst the more complacent Jarls were left to rule under the firm grip of the Thalmor.


As with most tyrannical rulings, the Thalmor are ruthless in the persecution of potential threats. Common instances of executions, missing persons, and arrests are occurring. Be it old Stormcloaks, their supporters, worshippers of Talos; and even at times cases of prejudice, far too much was going unanswered. It is nigh impossible to receive an audience with the Council, and the Emissaries are vague and condescending at best. 


A great many are tired of hiding and cowering from the Thalmor, and want to put an end to it. Only without inspiration, without unity, and without any inkling the might succeed; none have yet to openly oppose the Thalmor's rule. Perhaps there may yet be those brave, reckless, or foolish enough to stand against the Thalmor; but until they rise against their enemy, the Thalmor shall continue their brutal reign over Skyrim.

 

[ANONASAI]

Vaun looked around. It was a mage house and it certainly did look the part. His breath formed icy gusts as he fought the urge to spark a fire to warm himself. He didn't really like the cold.. yet he was in Morthal. "So, vampires, huh?" he said, his eyes focused only at the black soul gems.


"Yes, and a lot of them. They want to kill me." the mage replied.


Vaun paced around the house, currently intrigued with what the shelves contained. Books, gems, and potions were everywhere. Vaun was a mage himself, but he was never as obsessed as those like him, "I'm not surprised. You're the only one who knows how to cure vampirism. You're a pest to them." Vaun was using a different accent to mask his identity. His voice, attire, even the way he walked was different. He looked like a bounty hunter, because he was.

His face was completely concealed by the hood, his gauntlet, Esh Molog, was successfully hidden by a thick black fabric from the shoulder down to the waist, and his rapier was nowhere to be found but veiled and strapped underneath his brown cape. It was part of a secret Thalmor project to silently erase the possible threats of the province. And Vaun was the only one assigned--he was the only one capable. For weeks now, he's been acting as a bounty hunter named Kildon. Nobody has any idea that he's Thalmor.


His client today was the Morthal mage, Falion. The targeted threat, vampires. The bloodsuckers see Falion as a problem since he has the ability to cure vampirism. Thus, he has to be erased. Vaun needs to stop this from happening, and if he's lucky, get more leads to the vampires' hideouts.


"I'll keep you safe. Don't worry." Vaun said emptily.


A loud crash sounded across the structure. It seemed to be coming from the roof. They're here. Vaun opened a trapdoor leading to the cellar of the house and gestured to Falion, "Inside. Now. Don't come out until I say so." To which the mage instantly followed, locking the trapdoor immediately.


The night was dark, silent. It was a freezing weather. But, that was all taken away as the fight began. The door opens, creaking like a frightened mouse. And in came the vampires. Their eyes were as red as scarlet blood, teeth razor sharp, and had daggers for fingernails. There were three of them. All of them looked dreadful, their armor was slightly covered by their black long capes.


"Well, this is a surprise." the vampire on the middle said. "I didn't know Falion's house was still a target for thieves." Vaun kept himself from laughing. I guess I do look like a thief.


Entertained by the vampires, Vaun thought of simply going with what they think. "I-I mean no h-harm. I'm just a thief. I just.. j-just..." He backed away slowly and pretended to trip and hit his back on the corner, laughing uncontrollably inside his mind. This'll be fun.


"For goodness' sake, you didn't even finish, boy." the vampire on the right said, walking closer and closer to Vaun. "Wrong time, wrong place, my friend. I guess we need to kill you."


Vaun grinned. The vampire was a meter away. In quick succession, he pulled himself back to his feet like it was wind. The vampire looked stunned, and that was the last reaction he'll ever get. Vaun's rapier had already pierced through the jaws and out the skull. Vampire blood splattered right at Vaun's eyes. Dead. He was on to the next. The other two vampires were already in their stances. One approached him with his claws aiming for Vaun's face--it instantly ended when Vaun initiated paralysis on the attacker's knees, immobilizing him. The last one seemed distressed, but continued anyway. Vaun smiled again. Let's make this worthwhile.

 

[Slothtastic]

R'Jeer sat in the Bee and Barb, drunk and laughing his hide off he chugged some more black briar mead. He began slurring his words, "This one requests another mead!" He called to Keerava, she poured the mead from the tap, beckoning Talen over as he went to the Khajiit. The Argonian gave him his mead, "Come on now, Khajiit. I think you've had enough for now..." He told him. "How much does R'Jeer owe, hmm?" He asked, Talen replied, "153 septims." R'Jeer looked through his pockets, taking 200 hundred septims he handed the coin purse to Talen, "Give this one some more before he leaves!" The tall Khajiit instructed. Talen nodded, with that he went to get R'Jeer's mead. The Khajiit thanked him and stumbled on out with a full crate of black briar mead. Returning to his bunk in the thieves guild he fell asleep in bed seconds after sitting down. The mead near his side. 

 

[Yohimitsu]

Faendal and Redd were in thier cottage just outside Whiterun,  snuggled up beside the fireplace chatting about thier day and planning for the next evening. They drank a warming brew while listening to thier housemaid list off items she was to buy. "Yes yes everything's correct, you can go Trish" Redd says calmly to the maid, stroking Faendal's hair in his warm embrace.

 

[Wackadoodle0987]

Riften... hadn't changed much. The town was just as they had expected - a mess. Filthy, chaotic, and... overrun by Thalmor fascists. They joys of tyranny. Though one might suppose the Stormcloaks were no better; just as racist and just as repressive, only they failed to carry the charming air of contemptuousness that the Altmer interminably managed. "Pleasant." Annalise's nose wrinkled as they passed through the gates, and into the city proper.


"What is?" Amelie questioned rhetorically, "The open sewer running through its centre, or the overbearing air of arrogance?"


Annalise's frown deepened, "Oh, I'm all too used to that Amelie; it's the sewer I'm unaccustomed to." Amelie chuckled, grinning at her sibling.


"Dear sister," She snickered, "I'm not arrogant." Annalise raised an eyebrow in mock perplexity, "I'm justifiably self-assured." The elder Breton scoffed at Amelie's words, shaking her head in dismay. "And regarding the sewer, I believe you have forgotten our time spent in Southpoint. The Blackthorne's were... a close second." Annalise let slip a small smirk, though it quickly faded into her seemingly habitual frown - one might believe it to be some kind of chronic disorder. She certainly agreed though. Lycidas Blackthorne was the only member of that family she didn't want to murder upon meeting, but Ava... by all that is good in the world, she had done everything in her power not to tear her forked tongue from her mouth. Regardless, she got the opportunity eventually, and boy did she take advantage of it.


"Let's just conclude our business," She wasn't content to suffer the smell for much longer, "The hall is just there." She pointed to the large building, partially hidden behind the short row of houses on the North-East side of the town. Amelie raised a hand to her chest.


"I hadn't noticed," She spoke in a bitter sarcastic tone, "Thank you for pointing the way, dear sister." Annalise rolled her eyes at Amelie's antics, but said nothing further on the matter. The two walked the short path towards the hall, getting a few looks from the present Thalmor guard. It seemed whatever citizens had remained in the town were either hiding in their homes, or had been confined to them, but at this time of night it would hardly be surprising if they merely slept. "I do hope their representative is still awake."


"Given the state of the province, most likely." Amelie hummed her agreement, as the two passed the walled entrance to the hall. "Mistveil Keep?" Annalise's expression was one of utter bafflement. 


"Yes..." Amelie spoke hesitantly, looking at the small wood and stone hovel before them. "Quite the intimidating structure." The two ascended the steps to the hall's doors, though were stopped by the Thalmor guards currently on duty - their spears crossed.


"Only those with official business are to enter," One spoke, looking down at the sisters, "The Thalmor are occupied with an internal matter at this time."


Amelie laughed at the mer, whom bore an offended, and now quite aggressive expression. "Darling, move out of the way please." Amelie took a few steps forward, but the Altmer raised his spear to point it at her.


"I'll not repeat myself, human." 


She laughed again, "Human? Oh, someone fetch me a fainting couch, please." The mer's expression was one of confusion, but he didn't bother with worrying about her meaning, merely kept his spear pointed at the Breton. "If you don't lower your spear, my dear, I'll be forced to confiscate it. I don't much appreciate being threatened." The Altmer urged the tip of the spear closer to Amelie, showing his only intention was to direct them away from the hall. Amelie just shrugged, touching her finger to the tip of his spear. Nothing much happened for a few seconds, other than the second guard raising his own spear in anticipation, until a small shock pulsed through the elven metal, surprising the first guard. She gripped the shaft of the spear, wrenching the weapon from his grasp, and whirling it to knock him in the stomach. The Altmer doubled over, as the second moved to thrust his spear forward and into the Breton - only she wasn't there. "I'm not a human, darling." The mer whirled around to face her, now standing to his right, and at this point fully considered her a threat.


"Enough already, Amelie." Annalise sighed, having backed away slightly to avoid being skewered, "This is wasting time, and the smell is starting to cling to my armour." The younger Breton sighed playfully, before paralysing both guards, and the two stepped over them, opening the doors into the keep. "Was that necessary? You could have just explained our business."


Amelie waved her hand dismissively, "I don't take orders from my inferiors, Annalise." She merely hummed in response, knowing she wouldn't get through to her sister. "Besides, when they get up and barge in here," She chuckled, "Well, goodness knows how the Thalmor treat imbeciles, but I'm sure it'll be entertaining." The sisters looked across the room, pausing in their tracks at the sight. There in the seat sat some Altmer, likely of little to no importance, but beside her stood a certain individual... "Ambassador!" Amelie called out, garnering a few disapproving looks from the Thalmor in the room, and a surprised glance from Taure. He spoke the last few words to the Altmer female sat in the Jarl's throne, before turning to face the sisters.


"So, even the Blackbriar's have been kicked out it seems." Annalise muttered. "Well, I suppose they have to be thorough... reduce the risk of a co-ordinated uprising." The two crossed the room, as the doors behind the swung open, two rather irate and slightly wobbly guards making their way inside.


"Stop!" One of them called out, holding himself up against the door-frame. "We are... arresting you." One of the guard's grip slipped, as he stumbled forward from the doorway, barely managed to remain on his feet.


"Still with the orders," Amelie directed her words to Annalise mostly, but now she was in ear-shot of Taure and the other Thalmor lady sat in the throne, "They aren't very quick learners are they." Taure looked past the sisters, at the two struggling guards as they slowly regained their composure... and their balance. He sighed defeatedly, rubbing his forehead. Could these two ever stop themselves from sky-rocketing his stress levels?


"That won't be necessary," He spoke up, though baring a disappointed expression - not disappointed in the guards, but rather the sisters - "We will deal with it from here, thank you." The guards seemed even more irritated by being dismissed so easily, especially after having been humiliated so, but hesitantly retreated out of the keep. "So, what brings you two here?" He wasn't being hostile, merely trying to contain his depression at having to not only deal with this situation, but also with them. 


"Opportunity, Taure." Amelie spoke up, "The opportunity to help our dear friends and allies the Thalmor." She smiled obsequiously at the Thalmor sat in the throne, whom looked wholly unimpressed. Amelie's smile dropped, "Everybody hates you lot, and you need eyes. It seems your eagles can't see below the underbrush."


Annalise sighed, "Did you have to?" She mumbled quietly to her sister, scolding her for her choice of words.


"As diplomatic as ever, Lady Montclair." The Thalmor spoke, "We were expecting your arrival however, Ambassador Tavari was helpful enough to enlighten me as to your character." Her look of contempt was as steady as Annalise's frown, as she looked down upon the sisters from her high-set throne. Taure glanced down briefly, before looking at the Bretons.


"Still working for this ragtag group of bandits Taure?" Amelie directed the question straight past the Thalmor Justiciar, whom scoffed at her question.


"Justiciar Vallina," Taure garnered her attention, "Please empty the room, I will speak with the Montclairs privately." She nodded her head, though not too keen on taking orders. Ever since the Ambassador had arrived she'd felt uncomfortable; the Justiciar was entirely used to being in charge, only having been surrounded by the guards under her command. With the Ambassador here her authority was thrown, and that was hardly pleasing. Regardless, she motioned for the guards to leave, all departing to the other rooms of the keep, and made her own way out of the back entrance to the hall; leaving Taure and the Montclairs alone. Amelie raised her brow, still waiting for a response to her question, and awaiting whatever Taure had to say. "You know very well," He began, "How I have considered my position in the Thalmor. If I retire nothing will change, at least while I remain I may yet influence and guide them somewhat to a less... oppressive future.


"You're doing a grand job of that." Annalise mumbled, though Taure brushed off her comment. His lack of a fascist stand-point limited his power in the Thalmor - they weren't keen on his advocacy for peace and isolationism, they liked dominance.


"I'm doing what my limits allow." He descended the steps, moving closer to them so they could speak more quietly.


"So," Amelie spoke up, "What brings you here?"


He raised his brow, thinking the answer obvious. Amelie knew it was the riot that brought him, but didn't see why such a small matter concerned him, "To ensure this dissent becomes nothing more than that. If I can allay the locals' malcontent, I might save their lives." Amelie 'ahed' in mock revelation, "The more important question is why are you here?" Amelie simply chuckled in response. She knew that Taure was aware of why she was here, and that her previous answer was only a half truth.


The Breton ignored his question, merely asking another of her own instead, "You expect them to listen to the word of a Thalmor? They'll more likely try to kill you Taure."


The Altmer rolled his eyes, "At first, they might try, but I wouldn't be doing this if I thought I'd die." Indeed, it was risky, given he was dressed in Dominion attire, and his staff clearly was of the Dominion. In his defence though, the staff was crafted in the Second Era, long before the Thalmor ruled over the Isles, or the government. Back when his position was more respectable. 


"Besides, shouldn't you stay here with this... lot?" Amelie questioned, "Gotta keep appearances after all."


"I'm not here on behalf of my nation Amelie, I'm here to do the right thing." The Breton rolled her eyes, but she could hardly say she hadn't anticipated that response. Of course, the right thing involved stopping a potential revolution against a tyrannical order. "No, it involves stopping a group of decent people from killing themselves in an attempt to overthrow a powerful nation."


Amelie scowled, "Stay out of my head Taure. I didn't think I'd need to ward my thoughts from you, of all people."


"I'm merely taking a precaution Amelie, you do give me reason to distrust you." Annalise nodded her head in agreement, much to her sisters dismay. Amelie just pulled an innocent expression, ignoring their looks. "Time to leave. We will be heading north west come morning, there is someone I must meet in Whiterun."


"Keeping secrets Taure?" Amelie remarked, grinning slightly, though pressed the matter no more as the pair moved out of the hall, and Taure retreated further within the building.


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


The Bee and Barb was raucous as ever, as the sisters entered the building. Annalise grimaced, causing her sibling to chuckle, "Smells rancid."


"That's just the outside creeping in." Amelie scoured the building, "Suppose Taure's the lucky one." The Altmer had retired to his room in Mistveil Keep, but the sisters - as nocturnal creatures - hadn't such a luxury. Annalise took a step backwards, opening the door once more.


"We could just sit outside for the night." The cold air flowing into the building turned a lot of angry heads to the Breton, whom merely darkened her expression at them.


"Where's your sense of..." She coughed slightly, her nose wrinkling at the stench, "Adventure?" Perhaps focusing on that sense, she might dull her others... it was beyond hopeful. The elder Breton scoffed, but let the door swing shut once more, as she trudged over to a table with Amelie. The pair sat, catching the eye of the barkeep, whom waltzed over.


"Welcome to the Bee and Barb, miladies. Can I interest you in one-"


"Water, and some cotton to stuff up my nose." Annalise interrupted, pulling a small pouch from her belt, and placing a small stack of Septims on the table. Talen-Jei hesitantly, took the money, nodding his head; before turning to face Amelie.


"What's the finest you have?" She looked doubtful, hearing that this town's best drink was Black-Briar Mead; but who could drink that dilute piss-water was beyond her. 


"Velvet LeChance, if I can interest you in a bottle." Amelie nodded her head, glancing once more around the room. The barkeep departed, coming back a few moments later with a typical green wine bottle, and one cup of water, which only doused the Breton's hopes further - no cotton however. This wasn't imported, which meant it was made here... which ultimately meant it was poor. "This one's on the house." That sealed the deal. No decent wine was ever free, it was too big of a loss. Amelie nodded her thanks, letting the Argonian walk away to deal with other customers before even contemplating removing the cork on the bottle. She twisted it with ease, letting out a resounding pop, and brought her nose close to the lip of the bottle.



"Smells fine." The Breton took a sip, quickly dribbling it back into the bottle.


"Disgusting."


"I'd kill for a Rose and Rye." Amelie wiped a pretend tear from her eye, pushing the wine bottle away from her slightly, and eyeing Annalise's water jealously. "Suppose that's too much to hope for in this barbaric wasteland."

 

[Soleil]

She sighed, refusing to open her eyes to the early morning light.  A harsh wind past over her making her shiver, pulling the edge of the sleeping roll closer.  The sun filtered through the trees, and she could see the branches dance behind her eyelids. 


She took another long breath before slowly opening her eyes. Too early.  The sun not even over the horizon yet.  Getting up, she walked over to her makeshift firepit placing her hands over the still warm embers. Do I even bother checking the traps? She thought to herself. Feeling the familiar tight pinch in her stomach, she packed up her small bag, all belongings and headed toward the small dirt pathway. 


Empty of course. After checking the final trap. The rope was frayed and worn but she could usually rely on it. After going two days with no luck, she was counting on something today. She had some coin all she needed was to make it to the next village. I hope it's not too far.  She had never been this far South before.


Wanting to get an early start to the day she continued down until she found the old, worn path.  She had been walking this path for a week or two now. After moving from Windhelm, she needed to find new work but didn't realize how far she'd have to travel to find it. 


After about an hour the sun was warming her back and she had gotten a good distance under her feet. She came to a split in the road with an old carved sign between the two.  Riften? She looked to the left. Whiterun and Ivarstead? She looked to the right. She wracked her brain trying to remember if she'd ever heard of any of these places. But which is closer? 

 

[Slothtastic]

R'Jeer enters the bee and barb, "Talen! Some more blackbriar mead will you?" He asks, "What happened to the mead you had?" "This one and his friends drank them all this morning." "I will go get you some more.." He sighed at the alcoholic. R'Jeer took a seat, near the group of three he simply drank his ale and continued his buisness, awaiting his opportunity to pickpocket whoever passes him. 

 

[coold00d12]

               Drex would sigh as he wiped the blood off of his sword. There were three corpses behind him, each was a former bandit. He would sigh, talking to himself, " I warned them, yet they attacked anyway. I hate having to bloody my sword." He could see the walls of Whiterun in the distance, only about half an hour's walk away.
 
                As he walked through the gates of Whiterun, Drex smiled, stretching and yawning. He would stroll, up to Jorrvaskr, greeting the citizens of Whiterun cheerily. This was rare, considering the Thalmor occupation. There he is, he thought to himself, as he scowled at a Thalmor Justiciar, who was currently patrolling the streets. This particular Justiciar almost had the companions shut down, when one of their newest recruits accidently mentioned Talos. The recruit was a nicer one too, as most recruits were similar to Drex, veterans of the war, left with no way to support themselves than combat.


               Drex had no love for the Thalmor, the only thing he had for them was anger. Although he believed that the White Gold Concordat was necessary to save the Empire, Drex could never agree with how easily the Empire rolled over for the Thalmor. He was raised to believe that the Empire was great, and he still believes that, however, he hated how the Thalmor would stage an execution at the mere mention of Talos, not to mention what would happen if a Talos worshipper was found. He would shake his head at these thoughts, thinking there was nothing to do about it, other than wait.


                He would then open the door to Jorrvaskr, and be greeted by a few cheers and a bottle of mead tossed in his direction. He would catch the mead, then open it and take a sip. " It's good to be back," he would say to no one in particular as he sat down, exhausted from the travel and recent combat. He would drink the rest of the mead, then tell the newest recruit about the job, this had become customary, after the two had met and exchanged stories for the first time. After finishing the story, he would head downstairs to the bunks, falling into his bed and drifting into sleep.

 

[Slothtastic]

R'Jeer seeing no business began out of the tavern, upon exiting he was met by a thief, not of the guild. "Hey! Cat! Give me your gold or else!" He told R'Jeer, taking out an iron dagger. This will be boring.... He took a step forward to test the thief, the nord took a step back, finally realizing the height of the Khajiit as he stood up straight. He looked with wide eyes at him, a bit fearful as R'Jeer grinned. He was going to be a pushover. R'Jeer took one last step, quickly swerving towards his side, he then grabbed the back of his head and slammed it in the ground, he heard a sickening Crack! and a large thud, the thief didn't get up again.  R'Jeer took his gold and anything else valuable. Before heading back off to the guild. 

 

[ANONASAI]

The vampire's screams filled the dreadful room as Vaun's rapier melted his arm so bad that it looked like it was candle wax. Vaun, his three Thalmor guards, and the vampire he paralyzed back in Falion's house (who was the only one that Vaun spared) were now inside Alva's house--uninhabited since Alva has long been killed by Vaun, now it's a Thalmor hideout, and mainly a place where they interrogate vampires.


"You're lying. She knows you're lying." Vaun said, referring to his rapier, Brutal Elegance. The vampire was bound to Alva's coffin, shrieking in pain--to which Vaun simply smiled to. "Come on, tell me the truth. You don't want your arm to be candle wax, do you? Because it's certainly doing great at it." The Thalmor guards half-laughed, still covering their noses from the stench of melting vampire flesh.


"I know nothing!" The vampire screamed, and at this point the rapier's sting was unbearable. Vaun could feel it, the vampire's mind was subconsciously focused on the pain, it just needed a little more touch to break the brain.


Vaun glanced at the door leading outside, daylight pierced through the cracks. He grinned and gazed at the struggling bloodsucker, "Take him outside. I have an idea."


Keesh, keesh, and keesh was the sound of the crackling reaction of the vampire's skin to the Sun. Vaun's rapier was still not letting go of the poor arm. Morthal's citizens looked at the scene, witnessing the public display of ill-fated vampire. Vaun's guards rushed to action, two guarded Vaun's front and back while the other one shouted, "Nothing to see he-"


"No, there is." Vaun cut him off with a wide smile. The vampire was broken now, his mind was more than vulnerable, he couldn't even express the pain anymore. Vaun was ready. He opened his palms wide and crashed it onto the bloodsucker's skull. Everything went pitch black for Vaun, then, images... memories. Whispers, conversations, screams of the vampire's victims--it was all there. But, there was only one Vaun found interesting. The mention of Movarth Lair--that would only take a walk from here. The brain siphon ended--the vampire was barely breathing now.


Taking the rapier, Vaun plunged it straight through the bloodsucker's brain and then looked onto the crowd. "This here, is a vampire. He was planning to take your children," lied Vaun, "along with his two other friends who now lay dead by my hand." His gauntlet shined wildly across the white snow.


"This is what we are doing for you, our citizens." Vaun continued. "The Thalmor are not your enemies. We want what's best for all of you." He paced across the creaking frozen steps, "We do not need gratitude nor appreciation. All we need is your trust. We are Thalmor. We are guardians."


"Good show, Agent Vaun." the guard who he cut off said.


Vaun smiled, "Indeed, it is."


Movarth's Lair. That's where he needed to go next. 

 

[Wackadoodle0987]

The Sun peeked over the walls of the city, barely enough to incite the cockerel's cry, were it that any lived in Riften. Taure had already left Mistveil Keep, having departed before dawn, and meeting with the sisters near the Southern Gate. "So," Amelie began, looking over at the Altmer, "What's in Whiterun?" Taure's nostrils flared slightly, as he prepared to lie; but decided better of it.


"I've a contact there." It was short and sweet, and truthful, which is what mattered. Amelie was less impressed by his answer. 


"And that is...?" 


The Altmer frowned, looking down at the Breton, "If I revealed the identity of all my contacts, it would be pointless having them." Amelie sighed furiously, throwing her hands up in mock distress, "But they have information on Adeline Precatorius." This garnered both vampires' attentions. "Unfortunately, so does the Thalmor. Apparently, they know where she is, and are currently convening over the best method to capture her."


Annalise scoffed, "She's eluded them thus far."


Taure nodded, "Yes, but now Lady Allara is commanding the forces in Skyrim." Annalise's expression bittered tremendously, as she unconsciously rubbed the long scar cutting down the right side of her face. A parting gift from Allara the last time they'd met, and also the reason the Breton now lacked depth perception. "Adeline used to be a Legate in the Imperial Legion, before defecting due to the Thalmor's puppeteering of the Empire. When Precatorius, with many of those loyal to her, formed a small rebellion against the Thalmor, it was Lieutenant Rikke that replaced her. Adeline despised the Stormcloaks, for certain, but she hated the Thalmor even more so."


"We know the story, Taure." Amelie interrupted, rolling her eyes, "And you could have mentioned before that Allara was now running the show. She still has the lives of eleven of my men to answer for." Annalise kicked the dirt, "And that mess." Amelie pointed to her sister's face, grinning cruelly. "So, where is Miss Precatorius?"


The Altmer hesitated, "I don't know." The sisters groaned, "At least not until we reach Whiterun. Allara knows me well enough to keep most things military from me, lest I get myself involved. She has a cruel streak, and I work against that."


"And if we find her first, what is your intention?" Annalise looked curiously at Taure, not sure why he wanted to 'beat' the Thalmor to Adeline.


"I..." Taure looked up at the sky for a moment, "I'll do what I can to convince her that she works in vain, in fact, to the opposite of what she desires." Amelie laughed, shaking her head. Yes, it was a stretch, and it wouldn't work; but at least he would have tried. It was better than leaving them to be slaughtered. And the deaths of Adeline's group could incite even more dissent, which was something he greatly wished to avoid. The trio had, by now, walked some distance from Riften; though the city was still above the horizon. They would stop in Ivarstead, hopefully reaching there before dark, and continue to Whiterun tomorrow. It was a long trek ahead of them, but hopefully they could reach Adeline before the Thalmor. Goodness knows what would happen then.

 

[Slothtastic]

R'Jeer stood in front of Brynjolf, awaiting his orders. "Ah, R'Jeer. I need you to go to Whiterun, there is a contact there who's willin' to pay some big money for a certain dagger. You don't have it but someone else does. Go to Whiterun and get that dagger for the client and the guild and you will be payed handsomely." "R'Jeer sees. He will set off now. Don't let anyone in his bed while he is away." He jested, taking his gear and beginning off. 

 

[ANONASAI]

"Movarth's Lair. We're heading there next." Vaun assured himself to his three guards, but was interrupted by someone else.


"I'm afraid that'll have to wait, Agent." said the Thalmor courier, "New orders from HQ. They want you to head to Whiterun. You'll find a Thalmor agent in Honningbrew Meadery, and they want you to be quick. Time is of the essence, now."


"Go back to HQ. Tell them I need soldiers scouting Movarth's Lair. Make it quick.. vampires don't wait."

"Yes, Agent. Understood." 


Vaun looked back at his three guards, "I want full scouting of this place until reinforcements arrive."


And he was off to Whiterun. It'll take him at least a day to get there, or if his horse is in a good shape, half a day.

 

[Slothtastic]

R'Jeer had finally made it. Whiterun. He went to the Bannered Mare immediately. "Black briar ale or reserve please!" He requested. "No Blackbriar ale or reserve. We have honingbrew ale and reserve although." The tavern keep said. "Why not? And this one will have ale. Nothing else please..." "Thalmor wants to stop blackbriars from gaining power. Their meadery is supposed to shut down soon."  DAMN YOU THALMOR! He yelled in his mind. Or what he thought was in his mind. Soon enough there was a Thalmor Justicar approaching him with an annoyed look. Shit. R'Jeer tried to act as drunk as he could. "What do you wan'?" He slurred on his words but to no avail. "You're no liar that's for sure." He growled, he readied a spell in his hand before using it. R'Jeer couldn't move and fell over. "Ouch." Paralysis, dammit. He moved his eyes, trying to find anyone that would help. Soon enough he was being carried to the dungeon. 

 

[ANONASAI]

His horse's hooves were the only sound ever heard. It was a few hours past noon, Vaun assumed--the sunlight gently gave way to his charming features. Dropping of from the horse, he headed to the place where he was supposed to meet another agent, opening the meadery door to reveal a male Altmer in Thalmor clothing, together with a few set of guards--they were already on their feet, preparing gears and blades. "Agent Vaun, not a moment too soon." the agent smiled.


"Not a moment too early, either. I see you're prepared to leave me if I had come a little later." Vaun replied, to which the agent simply chuckled.


"Nonsense," assured the agent, "I was going to leave one guard to attend to you, but now that you're here, we can discuss the matters at hand." he paced towards the door and gestured to Vaun, "Come, walk with me.


"There's a contact, here in Whiterun, that knows where Adeline Precatorius is." the agent continued, walking beside Vaun.


"Don't we already have information on where Adeline is?" retorted Vaun.


"Indeed. And we must be the only one to know. That's why we're silencing anybody who has potential information that they might give to our enemies."


"Ahh." nodded Vaun. "And who's this contact?"


"That's the hard part. We don't know."


Vaun sighed heavily, distressed of the matter. "And you want me to find out."


"Exactly. As for us, we'll be monitoring the ins and outs of Whiterun to find whoever it is our contact's meeting."


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


"What's this?" wondered Vaun, pointing at the paralyzed Khajit.


"Thief." The Justicar answered.


"Ahhh. Give me an appointment with him. I want him for questioning." Maybe Vaun could use the cat for further operations on finding the contact.

 

[Slothtastic]

R'Jeer grumbled in his head, Stupid R'Jeer! You should know better by now! You have to slur your words more and be really emotional! The paralysis was beginning to wear off thankfully, now able to move his hands and fingers. Now all you have to do is find a way out of this place! Think! Look for Shadow Marks! He then remembered he couldn't move his head. He began to remember where some of the jail's escapes were. Although truth be told he hadn't been caught in Whiterun. He began moving his eyes, searching for anything that may be a potential shadow mark. In the corner of his eye he saw a line, engraved in the wall he began to think of what the escape may be. A jail cell like this certainly had a way out. He grumbled as he laid in the bedroll, unable to do much else. Worst of all the Thalmor had taken his gear, including his hidden Blackbriar mead. That is going to be broken... He thought to himself. Although he waited for the chance to finally move his head. And when he could he saw only a thieves guild mark. Right above a loose hatch that was well rusted and old. Now all he had to do was wait for the right time to pick it. 

 

[Wackadoodle0987]

"Why are we walking?" Amelie groaned, her shoulders dramatically slouched as she dragged her feet childishly, "We could have been there hours ago if you'd done your magic blue shazam powers." She waved her hands around for emphasis, looking grumpily at the old mer.


"You know I do not abuse my Psijic powers," He sighed, rubbing his temple, "Besides, I wouldn't want to cause a scene."


The younger Breton scoffed, "Magic is magic, who cares how you got it."


"Some gifts are best used sparingly, lest they lose their meaning." Taure frowned at the vampire, "The powers of the Psijic are to keep the balance. Abuse them, or upset the balance, and you will swiftly find yourself ousted from their numbers. I have no such intention."


"You elves are all so stingy." She whined, scuffing her shoe in the dirt. "We could have at least bargained for horses, or prepared a teleportation spell."


"Shut up, Amelie." Her sister's bite was sharp, silencing the younger vampire, "We will reach our destination regardless of method."


Amelie rolled her eyes, "Yes, but considering time is of the essence..." She trailed off, making her point clear. They had to beat the Thalmor to Whiterun after all. That, and Annalise's glare would have been enough to silence kings... and queens apparently. Her sibling slumped her head, trudging along beside Taure, "So, how long will it take... considering your age?" Amelie's grin was smug. Taure's expression, however, was far more bitter. "It's just... we're used to moving pretty-"


"Fine." He snapped, gripping the sisters' wrists harshly, and engulfing the trio in a swathe of cold blue flame. The sensation was not entirely peculiar, at least to Amelie, whom had teleported before; Annalise, however, was wholly adamant she would never get used to it. Within moments, where once two Bretons and an elderly Altmer had stood, there was but a lick of dissipating blue flame, which soon died away to nothing; and no sign of their prior being there but three sets of abruptly halted footsteps.


-----


"Some fucking warning would have been nice." Annalise growled, trying to shake the weird rubbery sensation it left in her muscles.


"Blame the brat."


"I do." She spat in turn, glaring at Amelie, whom merely scoffed at the pair. Taure was moving instantly, not the slightest bit disoriented from the spell. He knew exactly where he was; the others had to take a moment to gather their bearings, however. "Whiterun." Annalise stated plainly, looking up at the large hold. "How this wooden cesspit didn't burn down in a dragon attack is beyond me."


"Dragonborns are useful pets." Amelie remarked, "Stupid too. I heard that Balgruuf made them Thane just so they'd be obliged to protect the Hold... and the poor sod was none the wiser. I swear, all the remembered heroes are just puppets... whilst us, the ever present architects behind all of it are just forgotten about."


Taure grumbled, as the two caught up with him quickly, "Don't be bitter about it, Amelie. A deed is no less valiant for when gone unpraised, merely be glad you have the character to commit it."


"A fine sentiment," Annalise agreed, "But it is not valour that puts food on the table."


The mer scoffed, "Good thing you're filthy rich. You can afford to waste all your time on valour." The sisters chuckled, but Taure was serious. The group slowly ascended the hill path towards the gate of Whiterun; Taure leaning heavily against his staff by the time they reached the top, a smug looking vampire at his side. "I wish you'd burn in the sun Amelie."


She laughed, looking up at the sun, squinting heavily. Enhanced eyesight certainly made it hurt, "No can do dearie; perks of being a Scion."


"Molag Bal take the pair of you... and bring me a coffe while he's at it." Amelie rolled her eyes, sick of the mer's obsession with the particular beverage. "The gates were open, it already being early morning by now, as they waltzed into the Hold.


Annalise hummed, looking over at the mer, and whispering to him quietly, avoiding any potential eavesdroppers. "Where are we meeting your contact?"


He merely shook his head, "We're not. She'll find us."


"Sge?" Amelie raised a brow, grinning, "A particularly attractive, young, Imperial she?" She winked at Taure whom merely groaned at his slip of the tongue.


"Attractive?" Came a new, recognisable voice, "Why Amelie, if only I'd known sooner." The Imperial chuckled as the Breton turned to face her.


"Evangeline!" She cried in mock surprise, wrapping her arms uncharacteristically around the young woman, before suddenly groping her playfully. The Imperial chuckled awkwardly, separating herself from a laughing Breton.


"There's a limit, Amelie. Your antics and vampiric charm will only get you so far." Ladies certainly weren't Evangeline's type, but she indulged the Breton's humour from time to time, and boy did Amelie abuse that. Her 'sexual pragmatism' as she called it, proves for some interesting encounters. Not to be mistaken with promiscuity, of course, it's merely another method of manipulation or childish playfulness; it never went further than that.


"So," Annalise brought them back to the matter at hand, much to Taure's relief, "You're his contact,,, as always."


"What?" The Imperial placed a hand on her breast in mock offence at such an accusation, "I'm just here to enjoy the bitter weather and poor standard of food and drink." Amelie chuckled, thoroughly agreeing with both the statement and the evasiveness of it.


"Let us speak somewhere privately," Taure interjected, directing the other three further into the town, "The crypt is apt."


"That a subtle dig?" Amelie joked. The question was ignored, so obviously rhetorical, and so she tried harder, "So, what are two Thalmor doing working against the Thalmor?"


Evangeline was the first to speak, "I am not Thalmor. I used to work for the Dominion, now I help Taure from time to time."


"And I do not work against them. If I can abate this matter, I can allow both sides to avoid an unnecessary conflict." Taure countered, looking irritably at the Breton... though she took this as a sign she had succeeded.


"Boring. Why not let them fight it out?" The Altmer sighed, shaking his head disparagingly, and opening the doors to the crypt, which they had reached. The four entered the underground catacomb, glancing briefly at the priest sat off to the side. They moved to the opposite end of the room, and Taure surrounded them in a shimmering sphere of energy, muffling their voices to the point of inaudibility to anyone outside of it.


"Precatorius, and a host of her soldiers are holed up in Illinalta's Deep. It's a fort South West of the town, bordering a lake. It's small, but defensible, and allows them easy access to the main roads. She's been sending packages periodically to Cyrodiil, which is how both I and the Thalmor caught wind... somebody grassed her up." Evangeline spoke quickly, and without pause, her entire demeanour having changed drastically. She was no longer the sassy Imperial girl, but the hardened agent she truly was.


"We can get there before dark if we leave now." Amelie stated.


"There's more," The Imperial spoke once more, "The Thalmor have already dispatched another agent from Morthal. Ruthless bastard, Vaun Elsinthar, said he'd be here by tomorrow."


Amelie's brow was raised. She was impressed, "How do you know all this?"


"It's my job," Simply put, "And the reason I've kept said job for so long."


The Breton turned to Taure, "Where do I buy one?" Evangeline chuckled, but Taure just grimaced, "Fine," Amelie rolled her eyes, "We should move if we want to get there before them."


Taure raised his hand, "You two will go, we will meet with the Thalmor here, perhaps even delay them slightly. Besides, I don't think Precatorius would react well to a Thalmor knocking on her door. You are the fastest, so you shall go ahead, try and get them to move further south a few miles, and cover your tracks. Evangeline and I will meet you in Helgen in two days time, if all goes to plan... please make sure they're expecting us. Then I will do what I can."


The Bretons nodded, as did Evangeline. Taure allowed the sphere to dissipate, and the four moved to leave the undercroft. Once outside, they split up immediately. The sisters made for the city gate once more, while Taure and Evangeline headed further up into the town proper, and ascended the steps to the keep. "Sure this is a good idea?" Evangeline questioned, "It's never too late to stay out of it."


The Altmer chuckled, "I'm afraid it is, I've lived too long, I have lost the right to act selfishly. As immortals, we do not die; but neither do we grow or obtain more life. We merely continue, until at last every moment is a weariness. It is a cold existence, but one that provides opportunity; the opportunity to make life joyous for others. That is my only duty, and so I haven't the choice to stay out of it, or I may as well be dead."


-----


The pair entered Honningbrew Meadery, having been directed as such from the Emissary, whom was all too keen to appease Ambassador Tavari. The Altmer nearly scoffed in his face, as though being obsequious would garner any kind of praise from the elder. Regardless, here they now we're, face to face with a small host of Thalmor soldiers.


"So few." He remarked, looking at Evangeline.


One particular soldier approached them, "More will be arriving within a few hours, we've reinforcements from Morthal." Despite his alarm, Taure's expression remained neutral.


"Good. I was informed they would arrive tomorrow. The sooner the better. Your preparations are complete?" The Thalmor nodded, which only served to disconcert him further. Even with their vampiric speed, it would take a miracle for the sisters to get Precatorius' host, even if willing, to move south in time. At best, they'll manage to make it just before the Thalmor arrive; at worst, they'd be caught completely unprepared.


----


It was a while before a couple more Thalmor entered, a paralysed Khajiit on the floor. "Who is this?" Taure questioned quite aggressively.


"A disturbance, sire. He was openly condemning the Thalmor." Taure had a mind to smack the soldier over the head.


"And that's a basis for arrest?" He growled, "And to bring him into the space of a private operation no less." The mer scolded the imbecile, prepared to order the Khajiit's release, only for the opening of the door to yet again distract them. This time a small number of Thalmor entered, one of which was Vaun Elsinthar. Taure stayed quiet for most of their interaction, until his last request.


"Belay that." He spoke, "Get the Khajiit out of here, we have no use for him."  The guard hesitated, not sure whose order to follow, "Need I repeat myself?" Taure snapped, setting the mer in motion as he moved to free the beast, "And bring him his things, lest you be thrown in there for thievery. We do not govern ourselves on a policy of hypocrisy."


Taure turned to Vaun, "Before we begin, we should discuss strategy, and how would should strike Precatorius. She is well defended, and likely will outnumber us." A poor attempt to delay them, but a sensible discussion regardless.

 

[ANONASAI]

"You're mistaken, Ambassador. I'm not here to discuss anything." Vaun replied blankly, bowing with respect to the Altmer. "I have different matters to attend to. And as you may know, that Khajit was one of them."


Vaun was momentarily confused at the Ambassador. Why'd he let the Khajit go? Does he know about his mission?


(Really sorry if this was very short. I've nothing else to add honestly :/  )

 

[Slothtastic]

R'Jeer's being freed? That is new. He thought to himself as he looked at the particular Thalmor Ambassador, then the agent. Confused on why he was being freed but he didn't deny it. After being freed he could finally do that job and get back to his bed in the guild, and the black briar mead and reserve he kept under his bunk. Talen wouldn't have served R'Jeer if he knew that R'Jeer still had that crate he bought. No need for spells then. He confirmed with himself, he had been trying out a new spell he learned, Ghostwalk. It makes the caster invisible for ten seconds, during it he can walk around freely and drive away the guards. After the ten seconds are up the caster returns to the spot where he casted it. He could've also used a invisibility spell but he didn't trust it. Especially near the Thalmor. Upon recieving his gear he put on his blue vest and pants with the boots again. Then he equipped his amulet of Arkay, pulling up his pack he began off for the exit to this place, hopefully to the tavern once more. 

 

[Wackadoodle0987]

The Altmer looked sternly at Vaun, "The Khajiit is a nobody, but if you are adamant you need him, you will conduct your business within the boundaries of the law. That excludes kidnapping and harassing individuals for interrogation." He despised the way most Thalmor believed themselves unbound by law, which was all the more grave considering they governed half of Tamriel - hardly the best example to be setting.


Taure turned away from the man, returning his attention to the Altmer Justiciar, "Precatorius' soldiers will be well fortified, and are all well trained. Aside from that, the fort is mostly submerged in water, which leaves us at a disadvantage the moment we enter."


The Thalmor scoffed, "We've fought before Ambassador, we know what we're doing." Taure felt another urge to clip the idiot round the ear.


"That arrogance is what gets so many of you killed." He shook his head, "When someone that has survived as much as I have provides you advice, I suggest you heed it."


"Of course, Ambassador. I meant no disrespect." 


Taure ignored him, turning to Evangeline and walking her aside for a moment. "Scout ahead, then report back to us anything you can learn." He leaned in closer, "Make haste." The Imperial nodded, departing from the building. "We should move soon," Taure addressed the Thalmor again, "We can await my agent north of the fort."

 

[ANONASAI]

At this point, the Ambassador was beginning to annoy Vaun, questioning and rejecting his tactics like that. Nonetheless, he smiled at him. Ambassador Tavari was one of those people in the Embassy that kept the political balance of morality--not that Vaun intended to keep it, he just wanted to maintain such conduct until he sees fit to break it. Vaun was that kind of man, he's as selfish as a baby shark that eats its own siblings. It was all because of his ego, thinking that everything he does--no matter how cruel and unjustly--was reasonable... and only for him. If such ruthlessness was shown other than by he himself, he'd think the person was immoral, insane. He'd think that what he was doing was not right. But it was envy. Envy for the people who were more powerful than him. 


"Well enough, Ambassador. Thus, I'll continue to my matters." Vaun bowed, then headed straight outside, "If you'll excuse me."


Not a moment too soon soared a butterfly across Vaun's face. Then, a bump. Hearing a little girl's quiet ooof, he immediately looked down to his abdomen, where the poor girl has planted her face on. "That is one hard stomach you have there, mister." slurred the little girl, dizzied from the sudden bump.


"Are you kidding me?" chuckled Vaun, "Your head is as sharp as my mother's tongue." he jested, holding her shoulders to help her balance herself.


The little girl laughed, "You're funny." but she immediately pointed above his head, "Oh no! The butterfly's getting away."


Vaun turned to the small flyer, "Oh, this? This thing isn't going anywh-"


"Her name's Emily."


"You have a name for it already?" laughed Vaun, keeping his palms open for the butterfly to land (but secretly was already using Telekinesis to bring the insect to him.)


Vaun still had a heart, however cruel he was. He cared about the poor, the weak, and simply the innocent. Those who have no idea as to what's happening. And the little girl was one of those people that purely revealed his heart.


"Yes. I named her after me! So we can be bestfriends! We met just a while ago." she hopped in excitement, "Yes, yes! You got it!"


Vaun simply laughed again and turned to the girl's open hands. Sadly, as he half-expected, the girl's hands were already gone.. already taken hold by the girl's mother. "Emily!" scowled the woman, "What did I tell you about the Thalmor?"


Vaun's heart sank. He knew this would happen. "I just want to hand her the butterfl-"


The woman held the child's hand even tighter. Gazing angrily at him. He looked at the little girl. "It's okay." smiled the little girl, "You can keep Emily."

Vaun left with a frown, heading towards the city gates where the Thalmor guards were waiting for him. Everybody stared at him. Not of pity, but of anger. Everybody hated the Thalmor. Everybody hated him. 

 

[Slothtastic]

R'Jeer sat in the Bannared Mare. Waiting for something, anything interesting to happen. That's when he remembered his client. He moved towards a few people, each time repeating a simple phrase, "The weather is perfect today, this one would say that there is mischief going on." He continued this for many groups and many hours before finally he got the right reply. "The kids need to be kept in check by their parents." That was the right reply. Others said something about kids doing it and nothing else. "Yes, they do. Come, would you like wine or ale?" That was another secret phase. Just in case. "Reserve, Blackbriar." It had been confirmed. This was him. "Come with R'Jeer then." He nodded and began off towards the room for rent. Then he waited to hear the details. 

 

[ANONASAI]

"Found anything, agent?" the Altmer agent asked, as Vaun had just entered the Whiterun Barracks (where they have temporarily gained control of).


"No, I didn't. Well, unless getting publicly scolded by a woman is one." jested Vaun, filling the room with quiet laughter. "We're not well accepted here." he added, to which the Thalmor guards nodded to.


"Must be dismaying, being humiliated like that." stated the agent.


"I wasn't concerned of the humiliation." Vaun began, his eyes turning to each one of them, "I was concerned of the set of eyes. Almost everybody looked at me... almost."


"What do you mean, agent?"


"There was a girl. Imperial. When everybody looked at me, she just continued to wherever she was going."


"Imperial girl? Oh, that's just one of Ambassador Tavari's accomplices." inserted another Thalmor guard.


The Altmer agent whipped angrily, "Accomplices? He wasn't supposed to have accomplices."


"Was she the only one?" asked Vaun calmly. Pondering on his plans and possible operations.


"No. There were two other girls. Breton sisters. They looked royal." the guard said.


"Montclairs. They're clear. Nothing suspicious about them." the agent immediately stated.


Vaun nodded, "I saw Tavari with the girl in the Bannered Mare too."


"What do you propose, Agent Vaun?" asked the Altmer agent.


"Circle the city. Nobody gets in or out. Find that girl!" snapped Vaun, already heading outside. What are you up to, Tavari?


The Thalmor guards and both Vaun and the agent scattered like wolves, trapping their victims in Whiterun. Vaun headed to Tavari, opening the doors to the Bannered Mare calmly, "Ambassador." Vaun said, "Would you mind coming with me for a moment?"

 

[Slothtastic]

R'Jeer had finally been filled in. He left the room only to be meeted by the Thalmor. Slowly he eased back in the door and closed it. "You don't want to go out there.." R'Jeer stated. "Thalmor?" "Thalmor." He confirmed. 

 

[Wackadoodle0987]

Taure hummed, this could be a useful delay to give Evangeline more time and in turn the others, "Make it quick, agent." The Altmer nodded to the Thalmor readied to depart, "Allow me a moment, we shall proceed soon." He returned his gaze to Vaun, a scrutinous look, "What is it?"


------


Evangeline had moved swiftly and silently westward, already having passed south of the Western Watchtower. She was distanced enough from Whiterun now to move freely, and without caution, though still avoided taking the Southern path through Riverwood. The Thalmor would be pursuing said route, and although she was ahead of them, it was still somewhat more of a risk. Thus she took to the grass plains, and would pass around the western face of the mountains, approaching Fort Ilinalta from the north. The breeze and undergrowth was enough to cover her tracks, not that any had cause to pursue, as she moved without worry.


------


The Montclairs had moved with vampiric swiftness, no longer an elderly Altmer to wait for. Ilinalta's Deep was a sorry excuse for a fort, now but the remnants of a tower reaching out of the water, as an arm grasping for a hold. What had caused this devastation was unknown, though passing travellers had spread rumour of curious rituals and necromantic sorcery. 


The sisters apparated atop the half sunken wall, having travelled in their mist form, and gazed curiously at the small trap door leading inside. They would have guards watching the entrance, undoubtedly, though it was not being attacked Amelie feared. She was wondering whether she could even convince them of leaving. The Breton scoffed, approaching the entrance; she could charm a bird out of it us feathers, a few bandits would be easy,


She opened the hatch, Annalise approaching and dropping inside. There was a ladder, but neither took it. The younger Breton peered inside, only water below and no sister in sight. Amelie dropped in as well, once more dissipating into a mist... she didn't want to ruin her dress after all.


Once inside, the pair re-materialised on the small platform overlooking the water-logged entrance, and behind an archer, his bow strenuously pointed towards the entrance.


"Looking for someone?" Amelie chuckled, causing the man to jolt, and loose the arrow. He turned quickly, simultaneously drawing a shortsword, "I wouldn't." The Breton stated bluntly, "Attack me and you'll die." She paused, frowning, "That came out wrong. Attack me, and I won't be able to warn Adeline about the Thalmor host coming your way, and then you'll all be killed."


The Imperial hesitated, blade still drawn, "How do I know you're not lying? You could be a Thalmor yourself."


Amelie scoffed amusedly, looking him down, "Do I look like a Thalmor?"


The man shrugged, "I don't know. I mean, you have that air of arrogance." Annalise let slip a small chuckle, but quickly returned to her typical scowl. Amelie, however, merely sniffed.


"I'm not arrogant. I am justifiably self-assured." She tapped a nail against the wall, "Now take me to Precatorius. You're running out of time."