Category Archives: ESO

The Misplaced Wolf / Waking The Dead

There was blackness, and then… Suddenly, light as the world burped- or at least that was the sound that her ears heard as she suddenly exploded out of a black, murky pool of water- gasping for breath and floundering for dry land.

The thick, jungle foliage of Skyrim towered above and around her as she wiped the water out of her eyes and began searching for dry ground- which really wasn’t too far away. In fact, as she pulled herself to dry ground, the girl wondered how deep the small pond could have even been to begin with… But to that, she suspected she already knew the answer.

It was barely a swim- and it felt like the ground came up rather quickly beneath her. A few moments later, she took a few calming breaths, and took a good look around the immediate area. Nearby was a tree with… with a body pinned to it by a multitude of arrows. Though the clothes were different, she still recognized a Black Hand on the chest of the robes.

Dark Brotherhood.

With a stilling breath, she looked towards what was almost certainly the Black Door- though broken inwards and hanging on the hinges, it was still an imposing sight. Even more so with black smoke wafting out of the tunnel leading deeper underground.

Hildegard shook her head, and then, bracing herself, went inside.

She’d barely made it into the front chamber of the fire bombed Nordic Ruins when a long, curved sword suddenly flew out from around a corner and aimed to cut her head from her neck. Only her werewolf instinct and years of training gave her the reaction time needed to step backwards so that the sword ran itself into the stone work rather than her flesh.

“What the–?” The owner of the sword- A tall, Redguard man wearing black and red robes- froze at the sight of her, partially stunned by the rock in the wall, along with the robes she wore. “…Who are you, what are you doing here, and why are you soaking wet?” he asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“That… is a long story.” Hildegard mused. “I would be glad to tell it, if I really am where I think I am.”

“Nrgh!” the man finally freed his sword and, while not pointing it at her directly, held in in a ready stance. He seemed suspicious of her arrival, and with good reason. “And just where would that be?”

“Hopefully, Skyrim, Fourth Era? Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary in Falkreath?” She sounded unsure as if that was where she actually was.

“That’s about the most of it… why are you asking?” the Redguard frowned.

“As I said, it’s a long story,” Hildegard smiled, and offered a free hand along with her name, “I’m Hildegard.”

“Nazir.” The man answered, not taking up the invitation. “And I think we’ve got time before the people who burned this place come back to check for survivors. So talk. Fast. And it’d better be the truth. I’m tired of liars and cheaters.”

And so Hildegard spoke.

The truth of the matter was that it took several conversations with the Matron well before any of this happened- one of which ended on “I’ll look for contracts that require the body disappear entirely.” She hadn’t even planned on Skyrim being her first out-of-the-Gold Coast Contract, but, here it was before HIldegard’s very eyes.

“Contract: Jorun’s Stand.” The title on the page read. “There’s a traitor in the Fighter’s Guild,” it continued on beneath, “This one oversaw them slipping a message to one of our enemies- but since they’re a high ranking officer, nobody will believe a lowly grunt such as this one. Eliminate them at once, and make sure they never find the body!”

It was perfect, Hildegard thought as she tore the magical sheet of paper out of the Book of those Marked for Death. And the fact that it was so close to Skuldafn was even better- though she wouldn’t mention that part to Kor… And speaking of…

“SKYRIM!?” He wasn’t taking her decision to go back to Skyrim- even for a contract- very well. “Why!?”

The excuse she’d had been crafting upon seeing the contract finally came to the forefront. That she wanted to go back to confront who she’d been with who she was now. It was partly true. Mostly. Maybe.

In the end, there was still that part of her that wanted to know what the Silencer- Argo- was up to. In the end, Kor talked to the Matron, and she allowed it… and in the end, together, she and her brother went to Jorun’s Stand.

Soon, they waited for the perfect opportunity to either sneak in or wait for their target to leave, Hildegard looked upwards at the nearby mountain. They were just outside the steps of the ruins of Skuldafn, and yet… so far away from the summit.

So close. And yet so far.

Her impatience and anger annoyed the wolf within her- and she transformed without warning, though Kor was used to it by now. At least she still had enough control over herself to keep from rushing into the fortress and getting herself killed. Even so, the Wolf was annoyed- what was the big deal? The Silencer wasn’t formally pack like Kor was- even if he wasn’t a Werewolf and she was. There was a huge difference. The Silencer had yet to prove herself to the Wolf to be accepted, and until then, any of these thoughts were foolish and a waste of time.

The wolf might very well have wrestled itself out of her control had their target not chosen that moment to emerge from the camp’s gates, drunkenly yelling to one of the guards that he was going to water the bushes.

“Well, we’ve got the funny way or the polite way-” Kor mused quietly. “Either we scare him to death before he finishes his business, or we wait until he does and then we pounce…”

As luck would have it, their target swaggered and stumbled his way towards the set of bushes and trees where Kor and Hildegard were hiding.

The wolf wanted to go for the terror option- and Hildegard agreed that it would be funnier.

Of course- that would be the moment when a little girl came running from somewhere in the darkened forest- crying out for help. “Please Sir! You have to help me! My mother’s run off and I can’t find her!” the girl cried as she approached the drunkard man.

“Oh for the love of-” Kor face palmed. “Who the hell is this girl?”

Hildegard’s nose twitched as she caught the scent of death wafting from the girl- death and blood. A combination that usually only came from vampires and assassins of the Brotherhood….

Had someone else from another Sanctuary gotten the same contract Hildegard had chosen?

It was very likely, for the girl began to tell a rather obviously exaggerated story that the drunkard target ate up like a chaurus pie.

“She- She had one of her terrible fits! She heard the howls of the wolves and thought she was one! She tore off her clothes and ran in there to frolick with them- but she forgot to eat any Canis Cap!! She’s sure to be eaten!! Or Worse: TAKEN BY A SURPRISE WEREWOLF!!” As the girl went on with her tale- one which made really no narrative sense at all once she went into the “Why” of the terrible fit- she silently began waving her hands at Kor and Hildegard with a set of hand signals that Kor recognized from his hunting days.

“‘Sneak up from behind, and strike’?” Kor frowned. “How does she know those signals?”

Hildegard would have rolled her eyes if the wolf hadn’t taken all of that as confirmation and permission to go ahead with the kill and begun silently stalking forwards.

This would be a story to tell for sure, Hildegard thought as she crept up behind the drunken man, who now was only distracted by the girl’s constant stream of crying gibberish.

“N-HIC-Now… girlie… I’m sure she’s fi-BUUUURP-finneee…” The man said. “There aint no werewolfies around in these partz…”

“B-b-b-but…” Then the young girl stopped crying and gave a feral grin that revealed a pair of sharp fangs. “There’s one behind you right now!”

Confused, the drunken traitor of the Fighters Guild turned around to look straight into Hildegard’s gleaming teeth.

“Hi, Dinner,” Hildegard wanted to joke at him, “I’m hungry.” Alas, all that came out was a large growl.

It still had the wonderful result of making the man piss his pants in terror as he let loose a flat, wet sounding wail from the back of his throat. It was the last sound he would ever make as Hildegard lunged in that moment and tore his throat out with her teeth.

“Hrmf.” Nazir scowled. “That sounds like something Babette would do, alright.” However, his sword lowered slightly. “But that doesn’t mean you’re really from another Sanctuary that’s miraculously survived all this time unknown to any of us.”

“I’m not done yet.” Hildegard scowled in return.

“Fine.” Nazir said. “Continue?”

Hildegard felt vindicated by the sight of the young child drinking the blood out of the freshly made corpse before it could spill out too much onto the ground and leave an obvious kill site.

She was definitely a Vampire- and Kor had really no idea what to make of the sight of them once the wolf had its fill of the man’s meat and let Hildegard take over again. Two girls- monsters of different types, yet sharing a common job, covered in the blood of a drunken traitor whom they’d just killed.

“Ahhh!” The girl exhaled in delight once she’;d finished draining the corpse. “Now that’s a pleasant buzz! Drunken Nords always have a bit of an after kick to them.”

“So… uh…” Kor scratched at the back of his head. “Are you Brotherhood?”

“Yup,” The girl then offered her best innocent, child-like smile. “Babette, of the Dawnstar Chapter.”

“There’s a Sanctuary in Dawnstar?” Kor asked, blinking. “I hadn’t heard of that one before.”

“Dawnstar!?” And just like that Nazir’s sword was raised and pointed straight at Hildegard’s throat. “Did Cicero put you up to this!?”

“No! Who’s Cicero?” Hildegard frowned.

“Nazir! Wait! Don’t kill her!”

At that, Nazir and Hildegard turned to look back at the entrance to the Sanctuary- where a haggard, tired, and yet still very much alive Babette stood, panting.

“Babette!” Nazir flashed a genuine smile at the girl. “You’re alive!”

“Of course I am!” the girl replied. “I was out hunting when I smelled the smoke…”

“Can I get back to my story now?” Hildegard asked.

“Why should I–?” Nazir turned back to her, only to be stopped from anything drastic by Babette.

“Please, let’s hear her out.” Babette said.

“Why?” Nazir pressed.

“Because I saw her climbing out of Shadowmere’s pool!”

Who was Shadowmere? Hildegard wondered, but decided not to ask. Instead, she resumed her story where she left off- Babette describing the Dawnstar sanctuary.

“It’s both new and old and not even yet made,” The vampire- Babette- answered. “Ancient Ruins make the best homes, but we’ve yet to fully christen it. The Listener wants it off the Map for the time being. A safe place that nobody knows about yet.”

“The Listener?” Hildegard’s eyes widened. “Do you know them?”

“She helped us through a rough patch personally, before she was the Listener,” Babette nodded. “We… had some really exciting times then. It’s quite the story. Full of death, and betrayal, and a dead bride at a Wedding… We even killed the…. Well, AN Emperor.” The girl’s correction was obvious because she gave a roll of her eyes. “Nobody even knows his name now. Although, there are reasons for that interesting little fact that I’m not allowed to say right now.” A pause, a sly smile, and a teasing, “Yet!” followed.

“Why’s that?” Hildegard asked.

“Shenanigans,” was Babette’s only answer before casting a spell that caused the mutilated corpse of their target to be wreathed in a massive illusion- visually turning the remains from human to deer.

Kor whistled. “Well that’s different!”

“Yes, well, his friends will come looking for him eventually,” Babette answered. “The Listener would rather they not find us hanging around when they do.” And with that she nodded to Hildegard, “Come on, wolf-girl! We’ve got much to talk about.”

Hildegard looked to Kor, who looked rather tired out by this whole endeavor. “Fine,” He relented. “I guess we’re in for a penny at this point.”

And so they followed Babette through the forest until they came to the strangest sight imaginable…

A tall, wooden box painted blue, and covered in strange words that made no sense at all.

Babette withdrew a key from beneath her shirt and unlocked the door of the box before beckoning them inside. It didn’t seem like the box should be able to hold much of anything inside, and yet…

Inside the doors of the small blue box was a massive room that seemed to have been plucked from a Dwemer ruin.

“What kind of magic is this?” Kor asked as they stepped inside.

“The best kind,” Babette grinned as she hopped onto a small bench and flicked at a lever. Immediately, the room jerked, and made the strangest keening noise for a few moments before stopping. “Dwemer!”

“I… kind of got that from the interior,” Kor admitted.

“C’mon! Outside we go!” Babette decided, and then lead them right back outside the way they’d come… except they were no longer inside the forests of Skyrim, but instead atop the walls of Skuldafn, overlooking the vast landscape below.

It was also now the middle of the day- despite that when they’d left mere moments ago, the moons had been rising into the sky.

“How…?” Kor stopped to scratch at his head, meanwhile Hildegard just followed Babette along the wall towards where four others were standing, overlooking the same view.

“LISTENER!” Babette called out, waving as one of the figures turned their heads to look over. “I brought the werewolf girl like you asked!”

“Werewolf girl?” One of the other figures turned- and Hildegard saw that it was Argo- the Silencer. “…What the- Hildegard?! What…?”

“The Pup has arrived. Good, good!” The first figure spoke in a calm, female voice as she took her hood down- revealing a head of hair that was shock white, and a skin tone of deep, shiny blue. The woman had green eyes of a bright, piercing hue that seemed ancient, and her face had black and silver tattoos drawn across its surface in intricate ways- subtly looking like that of a Dragon’s skull.

This…. There was no doubt in Hildegard’s mind that this was the Listener.

“Aventus, go fetch the other one,” The Listener said, “he seems to be caught off guard by the view.”

“Yes, ma’am,” The fourth figure said, bowing, and then walking over to the strange box- where Kor was now running circles around it trying to figure out how it had moved like it had.

“What’s the meaning of this?” The Silencer turned towards the Listener. “Why are they here?”

“I sent a contract to your sanctuary,” The Listener answered, “and as the Scrolls foretold, this young Pup would take it. I sent Babette to fetch her and her brother to come here so that we may discuss the future of This World.”

“You mean the future that you say Silica got sent to?” Argo asked. “The Future that you say I can’t go to so I can bring her home!?”

“Of course not,” The Listener shook her head, then looked at Hildegard, speaking words that she felt had already been spoken, but needed to be repeated just the same. “Though I come from that same future, it is a branch, caused by the division of one of two sisters being sent forwards, leaving the other behind. That future, caused by the choices made by the other, who never jumped forwards again. That is what the Scrolls show. To send you forwards… no, it would break things in ways you cannot fathom.”

“Damn the Elder Scrolls,” Argo growled- sounding very much like the werewolf she was. “They sent her to that future, and I want my Sister back!”

“And that you shall have,” The Listener turned back towards the Silencer and smiled- but it was a cold smile, bereft of warmth. “But not by your hands.” With a sigh, she turned again, putting her hands behind her back as she walked towards the summit of the complex. “Follow me. Babette, wait for Aventus to finish prying the Brother from the Tardis, then lead them after us.”

“Sure thing, Listener!” Babette said with a casual tone that spoke of the bonds of family between them.

And so they walked once more.

“In the long ago past, there was a Man named Miraak, and he was a Dragon Priest,” The Listener spoke as they walked. “I would Kill him in Aprocrypha- realm of Hermaus Mora, by the Daedric Prince’s will. As Listener of the Brotherhood, I was no stranger to such a contract at the time.” They passed by the burnt out remains of a cart. “Herma-Mora thought it put me into his Debt.” She pulled out a small, leather bound journal from her robes somewhere. “This is a notebook that Miraak had kept during his time in that realm that was very much outside the flow of regular time. I found it hidden on my possession- placed secretly by Miraak during our fight- I never mentioned its existence to anyone, not even to my own Journal, for fear Herma-Mora would discover it’s secrets. But it is in code, you see, and I could not understand it until years later, when I came into possession of a Seer who could read the Elder Scrolls… and who could translate this book as well. That was about when Herma-Mora came to collect on that Debt he thought I owed him, I managed to finagle something… More out of him through this Journal’s mere existence. Then, we both came to an understanding of what we must do.”

She pocketed the book again as they reached the steps that would take them up to the final place- the Portal at the top. But it was there that they stopped. For a few moments, nobody said anything- and distantly, a dragon’s roar could be heard elsewhere.

Hildegard was starting to wonder if this was even still the same year they’d been in when she’d stepped into that blue box.

“My Brother and I were in a similar situation to you and your sister’s, Silencer.” The Listener said, locking eyes with Argo. “One decision- one event- and the two of us went on two separate journeys- the same one, but in different worlds. In my world, it was the result of your departure for the future… and your arrival from the past… that caused our scope of vision to change. We suddenly realized that we were firmly held in a portion of Miraak’s Journal- a section of history that he had already observed in the past… yet was concurrently in the present, and the future, and non existent all at the same time. That realization would result in the other you’s death.”

“…What?” Argo asked. “I don’t understand what you’re going on about. You say I went forwards into the future then Died??”

“In his world,” The Listener carried on as if she had not been interrupted, “my Brother would go on to take the role I held in mine- Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, Guild Master of the Thieve’s Guild… Dragonborn, lost in time.” The Listener then turned to walk up the stairs. “That version of my Brother is the one who currently is fighting the same fights I fought admist the ever increasing edges of a storm that grow closer and closer to shattering reality as a while.” The Listener said. “Things are going differently on his end- because it is in his version of reality where neither you or your sister were sent forwards. Meaning that she is not in that world either.”

“So?” Argo asked, growing angry again. “Where is she then??”
“In a world that can only be accessed by the utter anhillation of his current plane of existence,” The Listener said as they reached the top of the stairs- where a glowing blue orb rested, floating over the portal. Giant metal plates attached to free-floating crystals surrounded the orb, and were keeping it contained with some kind of magickal ward that they emitted. “This is a paradox clone of the object that will cause that destruction.”

“What is it?” Hildegard asked.

“It’s called the Eye of Magnus,” The Listener said. “In a few moments, it will not exist here- as it was never meant to be here at all. We have a limited window of opportunity to do what needs to be done.”

“And what is that, exactly?” Argo asked.

“To create a Dragon Break encompassing three time lines,” came the voice of the fourth member, Aventus, as he, Babette, and Kor reached the summit. “so that we may then intrude on the events of yet another Dragon Break, and prevent the unleashing of a Dwemer Super Weapon against the Altmer.”

“The Brass Tower- The Ever Walking Giant,” Babette breathed out. “The skin of the Dwemer whose attack lasts for five Eras before destroying all of Tamriel.”

“Numidium,” The Listener said the name with reverence, anger, fear, and disgust all wrapped up in one word.

“You’re telling me that they’re trying to stop Tiber Septim from ascending to the throne?” Nazir barked out a short laugh. “All that to prevent the Altmer from wanting to destroy Tamriel!? That’s got to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard! And the “Eye of Magnus”? There’s no way that even really exists.”

“But it does, Nazir,” Babette mused.

“Really?” Nazir frowned. “That’s news to me.”

“Do you remember that Thalmor patrol me and Mirabelle found last month that got squashed by the Giants?” Babette asked. Nazir nodded, and Babette continued, “Well, their prisoner was a Mage from the College- some guy named Tolfdir- that they’d arrested because of what they’d found in Saarthal. While Mirabelle made sure the Thalmor were really dead, I tracked the Mage down. I found him.”

“Yeah, you said you’d found his body.” Nazir nodded.

“No. I found him alive,” Babette admitted. “Tolfdir swore me to secrecy on why the Thalmor had arrested him! The Eye of Magnus! He said that it was a powerful artifact that the Thalmor wanted to abuse! He got arrested trying to stop them!”

“So… it’s a real thing then.” Nazir frowned. “Alright. So assuming that all of this is true so far,” he turned to Hildegard, “what was their plan for pulling it off?”

“I don’t understand why Hildegard’s here,” Argo began to talk. “Or Kor, for that matter. Why drag them into this?”

“That’s something I’d like to know myself.” Kor agreed.

“The Pup would have found a way to get up here regardless of whether or not we brought her here,” The Listener said. “The Scrolls show no outcome of what we do that does not result in her interference. It is what we’ve come to call a Fixed Point in our observations of time and space.”

“This way, at least, you know what you’re getting into,” Babette smiled at Hildegard.

“Well, that’s a relief, I suppose,” Hildegard nodded.

“What exactly does she do?” Kor frowned.

“When we alter this version of the Eye,” The Listener explained, “we will be destabilizing the fabric of two versions of reality at two different points of time. During that brief moment, a portal will be opened to a third version of reality, where Silica- the Glass Wolf- resides within.” She paused for a few moments, then said, “While it is our hope that the other version of my Brother will find his way through the maze of shattered glass to the beacon we’ve placed for him- to tell him to find Silica- events are very much in flux at this point and Miraak never observed a timeline past this point for my Brother. He’s very much about to enter a dark pocket of uncertainty, and we have no way of knowing whether or not we can bring her back to the present through his actions.”

“You want me to go instead, don’t you?” Hildegard asked, feeling excitement and dread all wrapped up into one tiny coiled ball of energy in her chest.

“Are you serious!?” Kor cried out. “You can’t send Hilde into that! It’s insane and I–!”

“It’s less “want” and more we’re powerless to do anything against it,” Aventus interrupted Kor with a tone of voice that only barely stayed just shy of full out yelling. “Our plans originally had me going through to find her, but when our Seer looked to the Scrolls… all she can see is you taking the leap.” His hands clenched into fists and he continued on. “There are worlds where you make the jump with our consent and blessing. There are worlds where you take it regardless of our wants and wishes- shoving either me or Argo or even Kor out of the way to take the plunge yourself! There are worlds where you simply just get pulled in while trying to eavesdrop in our conversation and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“We very much do not want to send you into this mess,” The Listener said, talking in a melancholic tone that made it clear she did not like what was going on. “We would very much rather that we not involve anyone else native to this time plane…. but fate is insisting on you going through, and although we cannot tell where you’ll end up because of how chaotic this situation currently is, we are aware that you have a much greater chance of success of finding her.”

“Then why do this?” Argo asked. “Why even DO this if the end result is sending Hildegard through the portal to only the Divines know where! Why even plan something this dangerous?!”

“Because if we don’t?” The Listener said with a sad smile forming. “In the very near future, one man’s actions, left unchecked, causes the complete upheaval of the world we live in. Even today, you can see the retroactive effects of his influence on Cyrodil, and the world at large by extension. It is just that powerful of an event. In result of that man’s ego, it will cause the Aldmeri Dominion to seek the utter destruction of Tamriel out of revenge for their islands being continually attacked for Five, Whole, Eras, by a giant Dwemer robot.”

“But the Dominion would never–” Argo stopped before the words could leave her mouth. And then she growled, “The Veiled Heritance.”

“Yes.” It was an even sadder smile on the Listener’s face. “In the time between now and the time we come from, they’ve taken over the Dominion and twisted it into a murderous machine that regularly purges Valenwood of its citizens, and seeks the utter destruction of reality itself. They seek to return to the ooze and the murk of pre-creation, but they cannot undo what has been done without greater consequences to the planes of existence beyond the Mundus and Oblivion.”

“And yet you’re the Listener for the Brotherhood- assassins and killers-” Argo countered. “Why would you want to fight to prevent that? Surely Sithis would just *love* it if everyone died.”

“Sithis enjoys the current way of things.” The Listener said. “It is amusing, and even when it seems as if the Brotherhood will be wiped out entirely… there are always a few select survivors, and the Night Mother herself.” And then the first hint of a genuine smile formed on her face. “And though we take on this task for our own purposes- there have always been those few idiots over the centuries who have performed the Sacrament in an attempt to have us kill one of the Divines, or one of the Daedric princes. The man who has yet to become the herald of destruction is no exception. And we will, to put it as my Brother once said, ‘Drop it like it’s hot while the pimp’s in the crib.'”

Hildegard couldn’t help but to laugh at that. “What a ridiculous sentence!”

“But accurate,” Babette smiled fondly.

Argo sighed, shaking her head. “If this guy isn’t even born yet- why are you going to all this trouble?”

“Did you know that Cyrodil used to be a tropical jungle?” Aventus asked.

“I’ve read a few books debating that it used to be, yeah,” Kor nodded. “Why?”

“Because the way it is now? It’s because of what that man will do in the future during a Dragon Break.” Aventus answered.

“And as I said, his Retroactive Influence can already be seen,” The Listener concluded, “and while it exists, it means that we cannot do anything but use that power against him… and that is what we’ve been waiting for while we’ve talked all of this time.”

dot dot dot dot dividing line dot dot dot dot

“So you jumped into the giant swirling vortex to be flung into the far distant future…” Nazir grimaced as he finally sheathed his sword. “Do you have any actual proof of this besides your story and a few coincidentally obscure details of the political environment?”

“This letter,” Hildegard said, pulling a small bottle out of her robes and uncorking it to remove the piece of paper within. “I was told Babette wrote it herself, and to give it to her when I found you. That was my first instruction, actually.” She paused, then quoted the Listener, “‘Upon your arrival wherever it may be, make your way to the Falkwreath sanctuary and deliver this letter to Babette.'”

“Let me see it…” the vampire girl strolled up and took the letter to read. “…Yup, that’s my special coded handwriting alright….” And then her pale skin went even paler as she read a few coded lines. “…Nazir?”

“Yeah?” The Redguard asked.

“She’s telling the truth.” Nazir gave her a half-convinced look. “No, seriously, there are private details- personal things only *I* Know!- in here from 300 years ago when I was first turned!” Babette began to point at the top of the letter, but Nazir cut her off with a raised hand and a hurried exclamation of.

“I remember the story!”

“So do you believe me then?” Hildegard asked.

Babette nodded, and Nazir just grunted out a “For now.”

“What can we do to help?” Babette asked.

Hildegard went to speak when a loud crack of a horse whip sounded out from outside, accompanied by some people yelling out.

“Whatever it is, it’ll have to wait,” Nazir muttered quietly with a scowl as he drew his sword. “Babette, hide deeper inside as an ambush. New Girl, if you can fight, prove to me that you’re really Brotherhood by helping me get rid of these clowns.”

“Of course,” Hildegard nodded.

From off the cart’s front, three figures emerged. One was a Cyrodilic man in Imperial Legion armor, sans helmet; another, a woman in full Whiterun Guard gear; and the third, a human mage wielding a long staff, dressed in blue robes. From the back of the cart, four more men in full Imperial Armor climbed off.

“Are you sure about returning to this place so soon?” The Imperial man asked. “Didn’t we kill everyone?”

“If My Thane’s spell wards are correct, there is life inside still,” the woman in the Whiterun armor said. “Furthermore, can you not smell the static in the air?”

The Imperial paused, then nodded. “It’s overwhelming the smoke, yes.”

“Time may have rewritten itself to remove a death we confirmed,” the mage said, pulling her hood down to reveal blue hair of the same color as her robes. Her eyes were framed by a well worn, slightly beaten up set of glasses, and her skin was as pale as any Nords, though her facial features seemed to lean heavily towards some exotic type not commonly seen on Nirn. “Given the unstable nature of our reality, I would rather we not potentially ignore a threat to our hard work at stomping out the Brotherhood from existence. That is why I made the call to observe the ruins for the next week in case something like this were to happen.”

“I suppose that makes sense…” The Imperial nodded.

And with that, the three went inside the still smoking ruins.

The mage spoke words in an unfamiliar language, and the top of her staff began to glow with an effect similar to Mage Light. It sent chills down every Imperial man’s back.

Down the winding stairs they went until they entered the main chamber. Still smoldering remains of a table’s chair set rested at their feet, although the ashes seemed to have been disturbed by footsteps, and recently. Seemingly leading into the burnt out bed chambers.

The Mage narrowed her eyes and looked around. “Maro, take your men and search the rest of the Sanctuary. Siro’, with me.”

“Yes, My Thane,” the woman in Whiterun armor nodded, and held back as Maro took his five men deeper into the sanctuary. [“What do you see, Tabitha?”] She then whispered in the same language as before.

[“It is less what I see, and more what I feel,”] the Mage, “Tabitha,” answered. [“A disturbance in the world I haven’t felt since the failed Summoning Ritual.”]

[“Could it be her?”] The woman, “Siro,” asked.

[“I’m not sure…”] And with that, the Mage turned into the bedroom.

There was the burnt down bed, the nightstand that upon which Tabitha saw something strange that had survived the fire, and a toppled book-case leading to the hidden chamber where the Matron, Astrid, had been slain.

Nothing seemed out of place save the object, and so she cautiously investigated it. It, being a necklace of gold with an ebony charm shaped like a hand; such a thing was likely not out of place in a building such as this, and yet…

Tabitha ran her thumb over the charm, and found that the only soot that covered it came from the parts that had been touching the nightstand in the first place.
Why would someone place it here? She frowned, and mulled over the item’s placement for a few moments before looking around the rest of the room carefully, looking for anything else out of place….

A few moments later, the sound of glass crashing, followed by three grown men screaming like children came from deeper within the sanctuary, and the Guard and the Mage both cursed their foolishness.

The Necklace was a Distraction!

Hurriedly, Tabitha and Siro rushed down the stairs into the main chamber of the Sanctuary, and found her five hired Imperial soldiers whittled down to three. Two of them were lying face down in the rapidly reddening pool at the center of the Sanctuary- apparently having been thrown through the open window above.

Maro was not one of the survivors- she noticed.

“What happened?” Tabitha demanded of the first man to meet her eyes.

“I- It–” The man stammered. “There was this girl’s giggling! We saw a shadow up in the balcony above- Commander Maro thought it the Vampire so he and Janus went after it- since they had Dawnguard training.”

“That was stupid of him to split off from his group,” Siro growled, much like a dragon. Tabitha sighed- very much in agreement.

“And then what happened?” Tabitha asked.

“Then their bodies went flying through he window and landed right in front of us!” The man answered. “We didn’t know what to do except scream for help!”

The Mage looked around the room- there was but one door leading to the upper levels that was evidently a trap. But it was the only place they could go that would let them deeper in; from Tabitha’s own handiwork- the other doorways had been crushed and blocked off with rubble.

With a reluctant sigh, Tabitha made the decision to head deeper inside the Sanctuary.

The murder scene of Commander Maro and Sgt. Janus was easy to find- a sudden explosion of blood on the stairs that trailed up into the room that a large window had once been present. Judging from the initial spray patterns, Tabitha was willing to bet one of the men had been stabbed in the back and through the chest with a very long sword; while the other seemed to be the result of three quick jabs to the chest, gut, and somewhere lower with a shorter weapon, possibly a dagger.
Two assassins- likely a synchronized kill.

Tabitha wracked her memories for a long sword user- and came up with the Redguard. Yes, a scimitar would cause that spray pattern. As for a knife user… No names came to mind besides the Matron- which implied that Astrid had been resurrected by the recent time burst.

No matter, she would be dead again soon enough.

Slowly, surely, as a single group they moved through the rest of the sanctuary before emerging into the burnt down sleeping chambers over looking the ruined dining area.

And there, standing in the center of it all was a lone girl in Brotherhood clothing. It had to be the vampire. But in her hands was a knife, long, wicked, and Daedric looking…. covered in blood.

Tabitha reworked her mental estimate. So it was the Redguard and the Vampire- not the revived Astrid. Interesting.

While her men were afraid, and her Houscarl wanted a fight, Tabitha made the executive decision to step forwards into the sunlight pouring through a recently opened hole in the roof.

“Hello,” Tabitha voiced, and the blond haired nordic girl looked up at her. There was a flower in her hair, also covered in a few specks of blood. “And just who might you be?”

“I could ask you the same question,” The girl smiled, twirling the knife around idly in her hand as they locked eyes and stared into each others souls.

Tabitha saw a raw hunger, and a thirst for blood in the eyes of that girl. A Vampire for sure. But as to the cold, oppressing look of “I will kill you” that Tabitha sent towards the girl… she did not flinch at it. No, instead, she began tossing the knife from hand to hand casually, with a trained ease that Tabitha saw from only a few people.

Skill a young girl like her should not have.

Still, something itched a warning at the back of Tabitha’s mind. The clothing was off. The girl was wearing Brotherhood clothes, yes, but…. the style was different from everyone else she’d seen on her previous march through the Sanctuary. It was more form fitting- with many belts crisscrossing the red body suit which had a knee-length skirt added on for the sheer sake of having a skirt… and as for the chest… the hand was missing. That wasn’t right. It should have had a Brotherhood hand print on it. Where was the hand print?

“I am Thane Tabitha of Whiterun, special advisor to the Imperial Legion stationed in Skyrim,” Tabitha introduced. “And you?”

“I can’t say that name rings a bell,” The girl replied easily, casually, almost as if she weren’t facing certain death. “Babette, Dark Brotherhood… But I suspect you already knew that.”

“Yes, you’re the Vampire,” Tabitha smiled- and the girl smiled back in turn… it was a feral smile. One that promised much spilled blood. Almost… wolfish, Tabitha supposed. “So, you survived the burning by…. being outside, I take it?”

“I was hiding in the pool,” the girl replied, shrugging before beginning to examine her knife. “You’d be surprised what people will miss when it’s hiding right in front of them.”

“I suppose Maro and Janus were to prove a point?” Tabitha asked.

“Was that their names?” The girl answered, sounding wonderfully…. not whelmed at all in either direction.

“That was, yes,” Tabitha answered, starting to feel comfortable in this situation, despite the almost certainty that the other survivor was coming around for a sneak attack sometime soon.

“Ah, well, I suppose I should remember that…” The girl mused, tilting the blade around in her hands until the light seemed to reflect off of its bloodied surface onto her face. “I wonder which was which? Whom did my blade kill?” She then gave a dry, sideways glance up at Siro, the three surviving, cowering Imperials, and then back at Tabitha. “Although, I seem to have done you a disservice, despite how honest you’ve been with me so far. I must admit I lied with one thing so far.”

“And what’s that?” Tabitha asked.

“My name isn’t Babette.” Tabitha blinked- and in that single span of a second, the girl had teleported from the floor and had buried the knife into one of the remaining imperial guards, meanwhile, the damnable Redguard had slipped out of the shadows and delivered a decapitating blow to one of the others.

Tabitha and Siro needed not even share a glance before jumping away from the overlook, free falling into the burnt out kitchen for the few precious moments it took for the girl to take her knife out of the one Imperial man’s back and then throw it straight into the third’s throat.

Siro growled as they landed, and Tabitha narrowed her eyes at the two Assassins. Damn it, she had let herself grow complacent. What kind of spell was that to teleport in the blink of an eye? To cover such distance?? Not one that she’d learned from the College of Winterhold, that was for sure.

“Nice trick,” The Redguard mused as he wiped the blood off his sword. “I take it that’s one from the old home land?”

“Thanks,” The girl needed no such movement, instead the blade dissolved out of the man’s throat entirely. It was simply gone. “It is, yes.”

“Who are you- really?” Tabitha asked, pointing her staff head at them- not quite yet ready to engage them in battle.

“My name is Hildegard-” she answered. “I am an Assassin of the Dark Brotherhood, sent from the Gold Coast on a rescue mission.”

“You’ve obviously failed-” Siro spat out venomously. “Save that Redguard- they’re all dead, and soon, so will you!”

“I’m not here to rescue him,” ‘Hildegard’ said at the same time the Redguard replied, “She’s not here for me.”

“Then. Who?” Tabitha pressed- she had to know for when she survived this encounter.

“Unless one of your names is ‘Silica’, it’s none of your business.” Hildegard replied, and Tabitha frowned.

“‘Glass’?” She translated the term from her native tongue to basic Tamrielic. No, that wasn’t quite right. It had to be the name of a person here in Tamriel who was named ‘Silica’- despite the similarity of the term to her own native tongu-

Too little too late did Tabitha realize that she’d let her guard down once more, and threw her staff out to block as the spry little nordic girl crashed into her with twin blades of glowing red energy– THAT SPELL!!!

With only a hiss of an inhaled breath as a prelude, Tabitha roared, “FUS RO DAH!!”

Hildegard went flying backwards, but somersaulted in mid air and landed on her feet.

“SIRO!” Tabitha roared- “Take care of the Redguard.”

“Of course, Tabi!” And Siro leaped with a set of spread dragon wings towards the upper balcony where the Redguard still stood ready to fight.

“…What are you?” Hildegard glared at Tabitha as they begun to circle the kitchen. “I’ve never seen a spell caster quite like you before.” She summoned the knife again and held it in a ready position.

“I’m afraid I lied a bit too,” Tabitha answered, twirling her staff around in preparation of a spell. “One of omission. They also call me ‘Dovahkiin‘, Dragonborn.”

“I see,” Hildegard held no visible reaction to that, and instead threw the knife at her.

“ZUN!” With a single word, the knife went off course- disappearing into thin air as it went off course. But in the course of that, the girl had vanished into thin air- “What…?”

“NICE TRICK!” And then a boot crashed into Tabitha’s back as Hildegard rolled over her with a flash of green light that was barely visible before Tabitha’s face hit the ground. Once more- her glasses gave a dangerous crunching sound.

“FIEM!” Tabitha roared, and then got to her feet even as a set of crimson blades came flying at her- THAT SPELL TOO!– and passed through harmlessly.

Tabitha and Hildegard circled once more while the ethereal shout temporarily held Tabitha in an immortal, ghostly state.

“You… you have the same powers as those Dark Seducers,” Tabitha’s voice echoed while the effect was in play. “What are you really then? A Daedra? One of Molag Bal’s servants? What is this girl to you?”

“In order, Human, Nord, No… someone’s sister.” Hildegard glared as she drew out the Blade of Woe once more. “You seem surprised that I have these skills that many people have where I come from. Surprised by these skills specifically. Why?”

“Nightblades… ” Tabitha glared as the ghostly appearance of her body faded away. “I don’t know what that term means, but I do know that the ones that have those powers invaded my home. Destroyed everything I knew and loved in the Planemeld.”

“You know of the Planemeld?” And for once- Hildegard was caught off guard.

“YOL TOOR SHUL!” Tabitha roared- and flames once more engulfed the sanctuary. “YES I KNOW OF IT!” She roared as she spied Hildegard jumping out of the massive ring of fire. “I WATCHED! I FOUGHT! Everyone AND EVERYTHING was LOST when Molag Bal came knocking!”

“The Planemeld has been fought to a stand still where I come from!” Hildegard shouted back as she threw out her hand and cast some kind of draining spell. Tabitha felt a bit weakened as a bolt of red magic shot back into the Nord. It only made her madder. “Molag Bal’s plans have been stopped!”


THAT made her madder.

“So YOUR WORLD…” Tabitha growled. “You’re the ones who made him take over MY WORLD INSTEAD!”

“He did What!?” Hildegard faltered and Tabitha fired off the spell that had been gathering in her staff- a giant frigid bolt of ice type magic.

There was an explosion of ice- and the entire room went blinding white in the mean time.


And then Tabitha’s world became burning orange.

“I will kill you… yes…” Tabitha growled as she approached the partially frozen, and very definitely paralyzed. “But not before you tell me how you came here and what this Silica person means to your master’s plans…” She took a breath, then roared, “AND YOU TELL ME WHAT HE DID TO LOUISE!”

She raised her staff up, ready to deliver a finishing blow to Hildegard’s head, when suddenly a rock hit her in the back of her head.

It bounced off of the magical Dragon Soul armor covering her head, but it still was noticeable none the less. Tabitha whirled on her heels- the Redguard was still fighting Siro- so… There was another girl- this time in the proper robes- and much younger looking.

This was Babette, the Vampire, without a doubt.

“And just WHAT do you think that would do!?” Tabitha asked, her voice just barley avoiding rising into a roar.

“Distract you?” Babette gave a fanged smile.

A moment later- there was a massive crunch of ice and the howl of a wolf from right ontop of her as something LARGE crashed into Tabitha from behind and sent her flying across the room into a wall.

Her magic staff went flying from her hand somewhere in the meantime.

Only through the might of Dragon Aspect did Tabitha survive the blow conscious. Standing where Hildegard had been was now a female Werewolf with a flower on the side of her head.

Hildegard was a werewolf, then?

Tabitha blinked as she picked herself up to her feet. “I should have seen that coming, somehow.”

The wolf just gave a massive howl- and then leaped across the room at her.

“FUS RO–! The shout didn’t complete, and even with the boost from Aspect, the two words did little against the enraged Werewolf who slammed her suddenly glowing claws into her magical armor and sending her flying once again- this time down into a large pool of water that presently was home to a massive spider’s corpse.

By the time Tabitha picked herself up and got back into the fight- Siro had been ganged up on by three Assassins, and was suddenly on the back foot as the Werewolf raked her claws across the wings, and the redguard’s scimitar blade came crashing down on one of Siro’s shoulders.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!!!” Tabitha roared- and it was enough to cause the entire place to shake, rumble, and begin to fall apart.

“Well, I think we’ve done enough damage here for one day!” The Redguard observed as he pulled his blade free from the deep wound in Siro’s shoulder- causing the dragon girl to cry out in pain as it came loose.

“Let’s go!!!” Babette agreed- and with that, she and Nazir took off at a run.

The Werewolf only hesitated to turn and issue a bellowing roar at Tabitha as she came running after them.

After taking such a powerful beating, Dragon Aspect failed, and Tabitha was hit with the full force of a howl that knocked her flat onto her back and felt like it nearly liquified most of her internal organs. By the time she got back to her feet, and over to Siro, who was curled up into a ball and crying heavily, the three Assassins were long gone.

As if sensing her anger fueled emotions- the whole sanctuary shook and trembled in time with Tabitha’s growing rage.

A.N.: So… yeah. 0_0; Hildegard gets sent forwards into the future, and meets the Local Dragonborn, who went on the “Burn Down The Brotherhood” path.

…Yeah, in between when we last saw Tabi in her interlude in Vestige of Void, and now, she’s… not had the best of times dealing with things. It’s going to be *fun* getting her from there to here. >_> */massive sarcasm asterisks*

Honestly, Hildegard wasn’t part of this in my original plans. Nor did she exist as a character when I made said plans… But now, she is going down the path that I’d originally had planned for a post-Dovah’s Mind story for Caliborn. Since I haven’t been able to find another proper upload site for Dovah’s Mind (Twitch! Come on! Give me the Uploads already!) And Youtube has just gotten even *Shittier* since I stopped uploading there (Youtube “Heroes”? More like Youtube “Zeroes.”) it seems more and more likely that Caliborn is not going to be going down this path himself… maybe not for a long while, anyways.

So, here we are, with Hildegard being thrown in a bit more for thematic reasons (It takes a Werewolf to Track a Werewolf) and because I don’t want to throw Argo into Skyrim while she still can be the POV character for the many new ESO adventures that are sure to come.

Expect another Vestige of Void somewhat soonish. I’m working on it! I really am! ^^

Also, probably expect this and the last Hildegard post to go up on The Blades of Void soonish as well. Probably with this one split into multiple parts.


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A Guard’s Lament/A Thieves’ Mortification

As far as Kurral believed, for your average Nord, there was no better job than being a town guard. You got the occasional bit of action- such as getting to catch thieves, or killing some axe murderers- and all the respect that came from the title of “Guard.” And, if you got a regular job serving at the local Tavern, well, the drinks were just the tiniest bit cheaper than they were otherwise!

Shor’s Stone was a nice town, he believed, semi-recent troubles with the Reachmen aside. Heroes came, and Heroes went- the Companions even came by for a visit every now and then. But what Kurral liked most about his job was the opportunities to meet new people- often times very pretty ones- and just sort of….

A glint of gold in the corner of his eye cause his thoughts to trail off as the most beautiful vision of thievery entered his line of sight. A dame with blonde hair pulled back in what the barbershop was calling the “Heroic Bard” style, and clothing was that fancy, half-heavy half-light style coming out of the Gold Coast in recent months. Manotaurus or something strangely named like that. It was the one that had the oh so many belts strapping across in various ways and…

Oh how Kurral’s heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of amber eyes sneaking towards someone’s waist-purse.

He didn’t care that she was a common criminal attempting to pickpocket someone of their hard earned valuables. No siree. That he was about to interrupt a crime in progress never even crossed Kurral’s mind.

“Hey! You!” He took  several steps forwards as he spoke, breathless, in the awe of such beauty.

“Oh, crap…” The girl barely muttered as she stood upright, hands going up in surrender. He saw her hands and arms well- black gloves going from the elbow to the gingers, wrapped in white guards with bronze studs- each one shimmering like diamonds to his eyes.

“Where have you been all my life!” Kurral spoke, grinning at her through his open-faced helmet. “Say, would you like to come get a drink with me?” The fear that had only just barely formed in her eyes suddenly shifted into pure confusion and then shock and horror. Her breathing hitched, and he saw her barely exposed stomach muscles tense under her skin. For several moments, she just stood there in confusion before handing him a small stack of coins– That she might have had a bounty didn’t even occur to him– and he laughed saying, “A girl buying me a drink, eh? that’s– …Oh. Oh, right… I’m on duty.” He sighed, and hung his head as he turned to sulk back to his waiting spot. “Can’t drink on duty. Maybe afterwards?” She held no response as he finally hit his wall and slumped against it.

A Khajiiti woman in brown leathers appeared a few moments later, and it was at her side that the girl left, both running away in what was almost certainly an attempt to hold their laughter in at his failed attempt at flirting. Even so- the waist coat flared out as she moved in just such a way that… well…

Kurral sighed. He wondered if maybe it was his cologne? The “Essence of Magicka” stuff did come on pretty strong… And this was the fourth time since he started using it that he’d let a beautiful person out of his grasp because he was still on duty. But then again, it was the fourth time *ever* that he’d seen someone worth pursuing since he started using it…. so maybe…?

The mere idea of the fact that it was him being a guard causing these people to run away from him wouldn’t occur to him until he made the connection that the seventh person he tried this with was one he caught with a knife in the back of a local fisher.

At which point, he’d realize that every single person he’d tried flirting with had been ones he’d caught in the process of committing a crime, and would resoundingly lament, “Damn it, Mara and Dibella! Why are all the Criminals Criminally Beautiful!?”


“I- What- He caught me pick-pocketing- but he was FLIRTING with me instead!??” Argo asked of her Khajiti fence/Thieves Guild contact as they hurriedly escaped Shor’s Stone. “I don’t even know how to respond to something like that!”

“Do not fight it,” Pirharri said, laughing, “This one can see the magic between you!”

“Oh Gods, No…!” Argo hung her head and groaned in dismay. “Please don’t joke about that, Pirharri!”

“Oh, no, everyone in the Guild will hear about this one for sure!”

“Noooo… Please, don’t! I’ll never hear the end of it from Quen if you do!”

Pirharri just laughed more and more- not even bothering to poke fun at the thief trying to do basic pick-pocketing in a dark room while wearing bright, shiny, reflective clothing. Yes, her friend’s mortification at being caught by a flirtatious Guard was enough punishment as it was.

A.N.: This… this was a thing that literally happened. Featuring Pirharri of the Thieves’ Guild DLC- because she is the best fence a thief could have. Bonus conversation is based upon one that happened in Guild chat as I explained the situation to friends. Words tweaked slightly to fit Pirharri better.

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Posted by on October 20, 2016 in Argo The Rat, ESO


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Fooled Around in Minotaur country

No less than three times over the last hour had she passed by this spot to see the same strange sight in the exact same place.

Either there was some kinky role playing going on, or there was an Argonian Slaver trying to hustle a naked, blindfolded and hands bound Bosmeri girl through the planes leading from Anvil past the Dark Brotherhood sanctuary. Crouched, hidden in the rocks above, sat a Breton woman by the name of Argo. Known to many as the Rat, and to a few select others as Silencer, the Nightblade assassin observed the scene.

The Argonian stood close to the Bosmeri girl- too close, by Argo’s standards- and seemed comfortable with the white Senche tiger that was lying down on the ground nearby- A pet? The Girl fidgeted in her bindings, and glanced around to no avail due to her blindfold. Though Argo was too far away to hear any conversation, it didn’t look like they were talking anyways.

Deciding that, if this really was something dangerous, there was too great of a danger of the Argonian killing the girl if Argo were to attack directly. If she were to interrupt this and it was something truly illicit, then the girl might have a chance to escape… if it were just the extremely kinky role play, then, well, they would regroup afterwards and they would probably get a good laugh out of the situation.

And so… Argo looked around, and spotted her opportunity almost too easily.

Minotaurs roamed all over the Gold Coast, and the ones wielding swords tended to charge into battle like, well… like bulls. Unlimbering her staff from her back, Argo glanced down at the Argonian, who seemed unaware of the Minotaur stalking around behind him.

A moment’s consideration, and Argo threw a lightning bolt at the Minotaur.

Her aim had been a bit off, angle wise, she noted as the Minotaur came rushing towards, and then  past the Argonian and the Bosmeri girl.

“What in the-?” The Argonian hissed and drew his bow and some arrows, ready to fight.

While Argo and the Argonian fought the Minotaur, the Bomseri girl stood stock still- or so it seemed. Argo glanced aside at one point and saw her quickly working through the hand restraints. And sure enough, as soon as the Minotaur was falling, and the Argonian’s back was turned, the Bosmeri girl tore free of her restraints, removed her blind fold and ran for a nearby horse that had wandered onto the field, clearly wondering what all the commotion was about. Strangely, the senche tiger went after her without a single moment of hesitation.

The girl commandeered the Horse, and took off, and by the time the Argonian realized what was happening, gave a frustrated yell, and took off after her on foot towards a set of Ayleid ruins.

Argo stood there for a moment, wondering if she should continue to interfere, or just let it be…. But as things stood, Argo suspected the probable percentage of it all being a rather kinky role play scenario was rising steadily, given how easily the girl had gotten out of the bonds….

Either way, maybe it would teach someone a lesson about conducting their private business in a field of Minotaurs.

A.N.: I saw the aforementioned scene of Argonian with naked Bosmeri girl (Both Players) hanging out in the field between the Gold Coast Wayshrine and the DB Sanctuary…

I decided to drop a Minotaur on them, just to see what happened.

The above is an accurate retelling- save the fact that I did follow them and saw that they just went right back to it inside the Aylied ruin where no Minotaurs could reach them. 😛

So yeah… pretty sure it was just a kinky roleplay thing. Hah. Still, they shouldn’t have been doing that out in a field where Minotaurs spawned. WTF are you even thinking to do something like that there?? It’s like they were just begging someone to drop a Minotaur on them! 0_o;

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Posted by on October 12, 2016 in Argo The Rat, ESO


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LEVEL 7:  Intermission: Travel the Worlds

Princess Henrietta was not having a good day.

Today was the day of the Springtime Summoning Ritual at the Academy- and while the Princess wanted to send all her thoughts and prayers towards her childhood playmate’s successful summoning of a familiar, she was forced to do otherwise since last night- when dark storm clouds had rolled in over the floating kingdom of Albion.

The Viscount Wardes had been on assignment there, trying to dig up information on where the Prince Valiant- Her Beloved Wales- was hiding, if he were still alive after all the bloodshed of the civil war brought on by Reconquista. Today was the day he was scheduled to return.

The Viscount was late in reporting back in any shape, way, or form.

The wall of clouds continued to block all sight of Albion from land or from sea. It was thick- dark, malevolent, and evil feeling according to all who saw it. Whatever had happened on Albion in recent days was clearly a result of some magickal ritual, but whatever it was, none of her best Mage Advisors- nor any of the up and coming mages from the Institute- could tell her what was causing it.

It was a worrisome event- given that Albion’s normal meandering path was set to take it near the boarders of her kingdom- normally subject to concern just because of the shadow it cast… but this wall of clouds? It was much larger in radius than the floating isle had normally- and whatever after effects ITS shadow would cast upon the land was too terrifying to think about.

“Mi Lady!” A Servant ran into the room, “The Viscount returns! Wounded!”

“Get the Water Mages,” The Princess called out. “I’ll meet him in the infir-”

“PRINCESS!” The Viscount shoved his way into the room in that instant- bleeding heavily from a wound to the head and a large cut to his arm. “Albion…. Albion has fallen!”

“Fallen?” Princess Henrietta asked as she and several others ran over to meet him, even as he fell to his knees, not out of respect, but out of exhaustion. “What do you mean by fallen? Is it Reconquista?”

“No… they…” The Viscount gulped down a wet sounding breath. “The whole of Albion is simply…  Unrecognizable.  The very landscape changed beneath my feet. The docks were destroyed and the… the Rebels were put on display.”

“What?” The Cardinal- some young faced boy who had come in to replace the previous Cardinal after he had fallen ill several days ago, and so Henrietta had trouble remembering his name. Julian or something?- asked as he too stepped forwards, drawing his wand to perform some rudimentary healing spell. “What do you mean they were put on display? By Who?!”

“Monsters! Demons!” The Viscount breathed out, eyes darting about the room in a harried perimeter check even as he slipped down onto his butt, then further lied down onto his back with the aid of the Princess. “Beasts unlike any I’ve ever seen before. Constructs of flesh… rock and ice…. wind and…. lightning!” With every word he fought to breathe down more air, “…Burning flames that are chilling to the touch…!”

The Cardinal frowned as his healing spell did nothing. “By the Founder…!” A team of dedicated Water Mages came rushing in, and began doing their more complicated spells.

“What’s wrong?” Henrietta asked of the Cardinal.

“It’s like… my magic was being eaten…” He shook his head. “That should be impossible… Unless….?”

After a few critical moments, one of the Water Mages stood, and said, hurriedly, “We can’t explain it, but we’re losing him. If you need to talk to him, do so. Now.”

“Viscount!” Henrietta kneelled down to look the man in the eyes. “You have to tell me- these Demons- do they have a name? Some united front? A Summoner?? What is the most important thing about them that you know of them?”

The Viscount Wardes looked at the Princess with a look bordering on sympathy. “Daedra…. An army…. belongs to….” His eyes closed and his breathing all but slowed to a halt.

“Viscount! Wardes! What are Daedra? Who do they belong to?!” Neither Henrietta or the Cardinal were sure who was asking what- it all blurred together under a swirl of chaos.

And then the Viscount spoke the name that sent shivers of dread down everyone’s backs.

“Molag… Bal.”

And so he breathed his last- his heart did stop, and his soul left his body for parts unknown.

The room fell dark as the sun outside was obscured by dark clouds.

Henrietta stood up and took a few steadying breaths. “Cardinal… who, or what, is Molag Bal?”

“I… I don’t know.” The fear was evident in the young Cardinal’s… James? Julian? Julius? What was his name?… voice as he spoke. “I’ve never heard of ‘Daedra,’ or anyone named Molag Bal before…”

“That…” A deep voice rumbled through the room. “Would be because I’ve yet to introduce myself.”

All eyes turned back towards the fallen corpse of the Viscount, whose mouth was twisted in a grin it had not been in before his death.

“By the founder…” The Princess swore as everyone took a step back from the body. “Necromancy??”

“No. No. Nothing so trivial.” The body of the Viscount said as it rose to its feet, eyes opening. “Think more along the lines of a ghost possessing a painting. Except, I am no ghost, and this is no painting.”

Agnes- Henrietta’s loyal bodyguard- fired off her flintlock at the deceased Wardes. The bullet struck true in the forehead- but did nothing to the one possessing the body… well, nothing except make him make a curious expression as he reached up with one hand and dug out the bullet from the wound to inspect it.

“Hah! I applaud your audacity, Mortal! A fine shot if ever there was one!” The bullet was dropped to the ground with a laugh. “Unfortunately for you, this puppet is already dead! Defiling it further will do you no good.”

“Who are you?!” The Cardinal asked- pointing his wand at the corpse of the Viscount as he took a gallant step in front of the Princess.

“Oh I go by many names,” the thing puppeteering the corpse said as it bowed. “The Daedric Prince of Rape. The Lord of Domination…. But you may call me Molag Bal.”

A shiver of dread filled the room, and distantly, lightning cracked in the distance.

“So… you’re the one whose transformed Albion- or were you puppeteering the Viscount to lie to us?” Henrietta asked.

“Oh no, this one-“ He laughed at some private joke. “-This one was completely honest in his legitimate flee of terror to warn you of what had happened on Albion- especially since his previous masters in Reconquista were brutally slain before his very eyes.” This admission made several gasp in dismay and surprise. “Oh, yes, he knew he was a dead man. I simply… let him live just long enough to deliver the news of my arrival in your world. Yes, it’s quite a lovely neighborhood, I would say. The Stars actually stay in place! How quaint! Sheogorath would throw a fit if he ever saw this world. Too… Mundane and Static for his liking.” The Demon began pacing back and forth as he talked, looking around the throne room with amusement in his eyes. “Oh! Is that a stained glass window? I haven’t seen one that disgustingly vibrant since I raided that church and I made the first Vampires!” He laughed, and it was a laugh that sounded much too… large, and powerful for the body it was coming out of.

“What do you want, Demon?” Henrietta asked.

“Me? Oh, nothing much,” he didn’t even stop to turn away from the stained glass window. “I’m simply here just to… ah, extend the formality of meeting the neighbors. You see, I met someone who gave me the insight that I shouldn’t limit myself to just ONE whole world to rule over! I should have a vacation home! My… contact in this world assures me that the summers are wonderful, and that the Elves are just as pathetically self-centered as they are back home.”

“Your contact?!” The Cardinal asked- surprised. “You mean someone summoned you here!”

“Summoned?” The beast had the audacity to sound offended. “No no no. I was not “summoned.” You see it was all sheer happenstance!” He turned to look at the Cardinal- Oh! Julio! That was it, Henrietta mentally slapped herself for the fact that his name came to her now of all times. “You see, I was testing out one of my little… Prototypes and instead of connecting to the place I wanted it to- it instead connected to a quaint little homestead here on this world!” A menacing tone overcame the room, even as the Daedric Prince of Domination continued to talk in an almost… jovial tone? No, it wasn’t quite that. Amused, perhaps? “There, I heard the prayers of a girl who wish so desperately to heal her younger sister of an incurable disease! Of course- even I could not do such a thing without first researching it.” A demonic grin spread across the face of the Viscount’s mouth. “So I prolonged her life- well beyond the years she would have lived otherwise. And in doing so, the girl told me about the troubles of this world. Such strife! Such… decadence.”

“And why are you telling us this?” Cardinal Julio asked. “A mere formality?”

“YES!” There was a delightful glee in the Daedric Prince’s voice as he clapped his stolen hands. “Exactly! Well, that… and I’m doing something incredibly simple that you should have been able to figure it out if I hadn’t been doing it!”

“….You’re a Distraction!?” Henrietta asked- well, it was less of an asking and more of a squealing, but the point remains.

“As I speak to you, my Beloved Contact in this world has finished the Spell that will interfere with the… ah, what was it called again? Oh, yes,” He held no actual pause to his words as he spoke. “The Spring Time Summoning Ritual.”

“You wouldn’t-!” Henrietta protested.

“As we speak, the target of that spell is just about to start casting… creating what I’ve lovingly named the- oh, and you’ll just love this-“ He stopped as a loud, crescendoing  rumble echoed across the land- and the clouds outside darkened even further. Then, as green flashes of lightning began to occur outside- painting the room in an ominous green wash- Molag Bal spoke six simple words:

“The Gathering of the Void Fragments.”

That was when a crack of lightning occurred outside, and Cardinal Julio suddenly cried out in pain, reaching a hand to his heart even as the hidden Familiar Runes on his body flared into existence, and then shattered away.

Moments later, the Cardinal collapsed to the ground. He was dead- there was no doubt about that.

“W….What did you do to him?” Princess Henrietta asked.

“My agents just assassinated the one you call a ‘Pope’- and stole the fragment of the Void Element within his soul from him. As that man’s Familiar, your Cardinal there suffered a fatal error… a piece of his soul being brutally ripped out as part and parcel of that same assassination.” Molag Bal answered. “As we speak, the remaining Void Mages, hidden away in this world, are being gathered so that their Fragments of the Void can be taken from them.”

“You’re killing them all?!” Henrietta asked- gulping in fear. The Power of the Holy Void in the hands of a beast like this!?

“Oh! No! Don’t be so crass!” He laughed- as if he were enjoying this. “I’m only killing the ones who KNOW what they are and who have summoned their Familiars! The rest? Well…” The evil grin seemed to widen now- not that it had ever left his face, not really. “Let’s just say I’m in need of manual labor and leave it at tha-“

Another gunshot from Agnes’ gun barked out- and another bullet wedged itself into the desecrated Viscount’s body- this time in the heart.

The room went silent as the Daedric Prince turned to look at her and ‘tsk’d in dismay. “Oh, Agnes. I thought you were smarter than to try that again.”

And so the Daedric Prince of Domination made good on his name as a giant mace appeared in his puppet’s hand.

The Gallian mage known to her fellow classmates as “Tabitha” shuddered beneath the cover of her familiar’s wings as a massive surge of dark energy overwhelmed the entire summoning field.

One moment- the pink haired girl who could not cast magic had summoned something for the first time ever- her first successful usage of magic ever.

No explosion had occurred- that should have been the warning sign.

The beast that she’d summoned had looked fairly harmless- some kind of miniature female humanoid with bat wings for arms…

Then, as Louise had bent down to kiss it to complete the summoning, it had teleported behind her- and knocked her to the ground- and everyone else for that matter- with a massive stunning blast of magic.

Only the quick reflexes of her recently summoned dragon familiar had kept Tabitha from falling under its attack- but now she was stuck beneath her stunned familiar’s wings, and had been forced to watch as the creature opened a portal of its own- and out stepped several female warriors in strange armor.

Most had strange, greyish blue skin, and wore helmets to obscure their faces. The leader, however, had the pink skin that was common in humans native to this region- and wore no helmet, letting her long, flowing blonde hair to flow outwards in an unseen wind.

“Good job, Familiar,” the woman had said to the creature, who chirped in acceptance of the praise of her mistress. Then, she turned to look at the stunned, but still conscious Louise, and kicked her to roll her over onto her back. “Well now, Sister. I suppose you must be wondering what all this is about.”

Sister? Tabitha’s brain worked overtime to figure out what was going on. Sister… Yes, there was a familial resemblance to the woman’s face and Louise’s. This must be the eldest- Ela… Elea… Something? Truth be told, Tabitha had never paid much attention to the Zero, or her family. Even Kirchie’s rants through all of last year had barely sunk in just enough to be aware that Louise did have two elder sisters- one who shared her pink hair, but was constantly sick, and an eldest who had blonde hair.

So this was her.

…And she had already begun talking. What had Tabitha missed?? The other women in the strange armor had already encircled Louise and her Sister, and had cast some strange spell circle on the ground- in each corner, the women stood, facing inwards, and thrusting their arms out at timed intervals while chanting some arcane words that Tabitha couldn’t recognize.

“–She almost died that day, you know? The day you were born? You’d never know it, our parents didn’t want you to know! But I knew. I KNEW you’d stolen something from her, just by being BORN. And that left a mark on our dear Catt. She was sick before but now- oh, NOW she was actually in danger of dying!! So…”

The elder sister breathed out as she stroked at her youngest sister’s hair- pushing it out of her face. “I made a deal. His name is Molag Bal, and he’s… well… he’s going to cure her, in exchange for complete and total domination over this world. This world that saddled you with the Void. Oh! Yes. That’s why you can’t cast properly, by the way! Heh… the pity is that you’re not even going to remember me telling you this.”

As she spoke, the eldest took a knife, and cut down the front of Louise’s shirt until her chest was exposed. “Most who regain some form of consciousness after undergoing this ritual tend to suffer from memory loss of the last few hours of their mortal lives.” She took the knife, and pressed it up towards Louise’s right shoulder blade, then drew down at an angle towards the heart- “Something to do with…” She skipped a moment, then dug back down again- “Soul gems!”

Louise managed a whimper as the blade was drawn away.

“Neither me nor my partner found the reasons why interesting enough to investigate. Maybe I will- if you’re one of those unlucky few who regain awareness of themselves.” She pulled out a pitch black crystal from a bag hanging at her side, and held it up. “And… if by some chance that you do remember this moment…”

She whispered something to Louise, something which got a strangled “no!” in response, followed by tears flowing down the girl’s cheeks.

“Oh, Yes! He was a traitor… and now he’s dead. Being paraded around right this moment as a corpse puppet by my Beloved Partner.” A twisted smile formed on the eldest sister’s face, and then she said, “And on that note-” She then stabbed the knife straight down into Louise’s chest- completing an X over the heart and causing some explosive surge of energy to explode out of her body and flow straight into the black gemstone.

That was when the spell circle beneath their feet erupted into a massive torrent of dark energy- swirling upwards and engulfing everything in sight as it hit the sky and began to spread outwards- covering everything as green lightning began to shoot out and just the sound of it made Tabitha shiver–

Ah. Right.

And now she had gotten back to the present moment. Tabitha took a steeling breath as she watched the storm-like energy begin to pull in the stunned bodies of her fellow classmates, along with the varying forms of their familiars.

Any moment now- she would be next.

That was when there was a massive, droning sound from above her- followed by the dark vortex disappearing from sight, revealing that all who had been pulled into it were either destroyed, or taken away to somewhere else. And then with the rattling of metal and chains- giant anchor points fell from above, smashing into the ground where Louise had been killed.

That was when the stunning spell wore off- and her Familiar began to move.

Tabitha rolled out from under her familiar’s wing, and looked upwards.

Hanging over the Academy was a massive, metal ring with a bright blue vortex of energy suspended within it.

Tabitha narrowed her eyes and adjusted her glasses. Whatever this damned thing was… she would have to….

The surface rippled- and something Descended.

Tabitha quickly jumped onto her dragon familiar’s back, and kicked once into the side. Even the Dragon, though it clearly wanted to protest, understood this was not a fight they could win, and so they flew off as the first of many dark forces crashed into the Academy grounds, and began to make the holy place their own desecrated grounds.

As they ascended- Tabitha felt a brief tugging at her clothes from the portal above– a suction effect? Her familiar understood it as well, and adjusted her course to pull away from it.

They flew for several minutes before landing far away, deep in the forest.

That was when Tabitha’s familiar shifted from a dragon into a human girl.

“WHAT…!” The dragon-girl- or more properly, as Tabitha now recognized her, a Rhyme Dragon- cried out as she pointed at the massive ring in the heavens- supported by nothing but its own magic. “JUST WHAT IS THAT!?”

Tabitha huffed as she looked at the affront to all things sane and rational. “No idea.”

She had no idea what it was… but she would find out… and then she would destroy it, and anything else like it, and then….

Then what?

Get revenge on the people who created it?

No, that would not be possible. Clearly something like this was well beyond Tabitha’s hands alone to deal with… Even if her Familiar had a second pair of hands to lend to the cause.

By God, this was all so messed up. Louise’s sister had killed her for… Void magic? Was that really what all of this was about? Certainly it explained a few things about Louise’s “Zero” status and inability to cast magic that wasn’t an explosion, but even so… How cruel was it to perform such an act?

Tabitha turned to her familiar… who she supposed she should ask the name of, rather than give one to her. Wasn’t this a surprise on top of everything else?

Well, regardless, like everything else in her life at this point, Tabitha resolved herself to face it all head on. She had survived this long, after all.


A.N.: Some insight into what exactly happened in that summoning ritual. I will admit that Molag Bal’s stage show was less him and more… that snarky Dunmer from the Dark Brotherhood DLC who you talk to upon completing a contract. Argh, I was trying so hard to make it sound like Molag Bal, but damn it, that smooth talking Dunmer’s voice just gets in your head!!

(I might do more stuff with Tabitha. I made a tag. Let’s see if that ever pans out. Shall we?)


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Vestige of Void – Level 6

LEVEL 6: Who Am I to Disagree?

Find Darien. Get the Key. Open Central and Eastern Gates. Find Alinon. Cure Lycanthropy of citizens.

That was the mantra running through Karlieah’s head as she pushed through Camlorn.

Fresh Blood from the werewolves- that was easy to collect. The damned things kept throwing themselves at her. Keep the bag of goodies safe- also easy. She was a trained thief, after all. Carrying small items in obscure places was a well honed trait. Trying not to worry about Louise and Quen being trapped in this? Not so easy. Not at all.

It had been DAYS. Days since she’d sent them up here- and it had been days since the Werewolves had attacked. Days since refugees were sent to Aldcroft. Days since she’d visited the battlefield and changed time. Days since the Duke of Camlorn was bitten and infected… Days that Louise and Quen had likely been trapped here… trapped… trapped…

Or maybe hiding away?

Camlorn Cathedral was a towering thing in Camorn’s North-eastern corner.  It was also one of the few places that was defensible in the city what with all the werewolves. It could be one of the best places to hide away in during a city raid. And so, not knowing what to expect, Karlieah entered the Cathedral.

The door was unlocked- a worrisome sign.

Much to her surprise, and relief, however, everyone was fine inside- and Louise was waiting near the entrance with Darien Gautier.

“…See, I told you I heard someone fighting outside the- Oh, Karlie!” Louise gave a smile upon recognizing her friend. “You made it!”

“A visitor huh? What brings you to our pleasant little city? The war? The Blood? The Thrice damned werewolves?” Darien asked with a dry smile and a bit of humor.

“Yer father sent me to tell ya the Lion Guard holds the courtyard.” Karlieah answered. “I… was expecting more guards and less civilians, though, from tha way he said the guard were still opperatin’.”

“Well, that’s the first good news I’ve heard today,” Darien glanced at Louise, “as for the more people thing… we haven’t pulled any operations since we locked ourselves in here. I dunno what dad’s heard but we’ve mostly been keeping to ourselves…although we were planning on doing something tonight. Strange that, isn’t it?”

“It is, yeah,” Louise nodded.

“Is there an Alinon here?” Karlieah asked.

“Present!” A man called out from back in the room.

“I’ve got supplies,” Karlieah says, “for the werewolf antidote.”

“Good, good,” Alinon waved her over, and she, Louise, and Darien went over.

“So, if you’re here to take me to my father, you can get right out of here now and tell him I’m not leaving. We’ve got people out there that need rescuing first,” Darien began as Alinon began looking over the supplies.

“That’s not why I’m here. General Gautier sent me to fetch yo’r master key.” Karlieah explained.

“In all seriousness, we’re not doing anything before we get people out of this church and rescue the remaining civilians,” Darien countered. “Louise and I came up with a plan. There’s one Inn nearby that’s defensible and is full of supplies- even access to the Camlorn Undercroft if we need to make a hasty exit underground…. Just one catch.”

“An’ wots that?” Karlieah asked.

That Inn is locked up, and the keeper was killed on the way over here,” Darien answered. “One of our survivors watched it happen, even. The idiot just stopped to stand there, locking the doors before trying to catch up to the rest, and then he got thrown across the courtyard by a werewolf for it!”

“Well damn,” Karlieah shook her head. “Poor guy.”

“Before you showed up, our plan was to have one of us sneak out to get the key from the innkeeper and move everyone over to the inn,” Louise said.

“But since I’m here I might as well do it, right?” Karlieah sighed. “Fine. Fair enough, since I pushed through to get here in the first place.” She nodded. “I’ll go get the key to the inn.”

“And then we can talk about my giant master key after that,” Darien joked- though he was elbowed by Louise for the remark.

“Easier said than done, there’re Bloodthorn Cultists ev’rywhere.” Karlieah said.

“Yeah, they showed up about a day after the wolves took over,” Darien shook his head. “The damned things just let them in, as far as we can tell.” He scoffed. “A marriage made in Oblivion to be sure, but effective nevertheless.”

“So, we’re moving to the inn then?” Alinon asked.

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” Darien nodded.

“Good, because I can’t mix these ingredients without proper equipment.” Alinon nodded. “That’ll teach me not to carry a travelers’ potion kit.”

Half an hour of sneaking, slaying, and corpse searching later, the citizens of Camlorn were safely settled down in the Inn.

“So where’s Quen?” Karlieah asked of Louise once they had a few moments peace to themselves.

“Disappeared last night- was there one second, gone the next. Whole church changed too. It was strange.” Louise shook her head. “Darien and I were the only ones who noticed anything wrong.”

“Well, crap, that might’ve been me,” Karlieah shook her head. “I changed time…. By accident. Had to learn Falchou’s weakness.”

“Great,” Louise sighed. “Now there’s time travel involved as well?”

“Yeah, anyways…” Karlieah turned to Alinon. “Is the cure ready yet?”

“Yes, yes, just another minute or so…” Came the distracted reply.

“Great, now then…” Karlieah turned to Darien. “About that key.”

“Ah, ah ah, not quite yet.” Darien wagged his finger at her. “We need weapons and armor to defend ourselves.” He motioned at Louise. “Your friend there’s spent the last few days in nothing but her nightwear. Least you could do is fetch her some proper clothes first, right?”

Karlieah growled under her throat. “Fine. I’ll find your weapons. Where do I look?”

“Caches are hidden around the city,” Darien’s explanation was interrupted by Alinon’s cheers of excitement.

“I think I’ve got it!”

And indeed, he did have it. The cure worked- and while rescuing citizens from the lycanthropy curse, Karlieah fetched armor and weapons from the caches, then returned to the inn.

“Ah, the lovely clank of armor,” Darien rubbed his hands together, and raised his voice to a cheerful level. “Well done. Everyone! When we all get out of here, the first drink’s on me!” A pause, then he lowered his voice to something a bit more conspiratorial. “Now, I have some good news and bad news.”

“‘Course you do.” Karlieah sighed. “Wot is it?”

“Good news is, I do indeed have the master key to the city gates… the bad news is….”

“RAAAAH! WHO DARES TRESPASS IN MY CITY!? FIND THEM! KILL THEM! BRING ME THEIR BONES!!!” A roar flew over the city just then, falling wonderfully into the pause Darrien put into his sentence.

“Ah, and there’s mister angry claws himself,” Louise said, flatly, as she examined some of the armor Karlieah had found.

“Ooh, I got the timing right that time. Hah, Yeah…. The Bad news is your thrilling exploits have attracted Faolchu’s attention.” Darien gave a sympathetic smile. “You were too successful, and now Faolchu is- pardon the pun- howling mad.”

“Never mind ‘dat! We need to unlock the gates for the Lion Guard,” Karlieah crossed her arms, even as Louise changed into a set of armor between them, mostly by slipping it on over what she already was wearing.

“A bold plan, for my father. If we time it right, it should work, but that doesn’t change the fact that Faolchu is hunting for us.” Darien answered.

“Wot do you suggest, then?” Karlieah asked.

“You take someone to the signal towers and have them light the fires to let my dad know we’re ready. I’ll take the rest of the civilians and guards and unlock the gates.” Darien said.

“So who do you suggest I escort to light the fires?” Karlieah asked.

“Me,” Louise smiled as she readied a Lightning Staff. “Darien told me what colors for the fire salts to use for the signals and what order to light them in while you were out.”

“And once the fires are lit, you two both Confront Faolchu. Keep him busy long enough for our troops to take back the city, and we’ll sent aid as soon as we can.” Darien concluded.

“By ourselves?” Karlieah asked. “Are you BLEEDIN’ MAD?! Just because we know his weakness doesn’t mean we can fight him! I didn’t sign up for this!” Never mind the fact that she had, actually, signed up for this way back in Daggerfall when she’d sent Louise off to Camlorn in the first place, all based off of a hunch that there was more to this than met the eye.

Karlieah hated it when she was right. Because whenever her instincts were right- things usually went to Oblivion in a hand basket… or to Coldharbour on a stone table… or to the Werewolves under a necromantically revived monster from the time of the Wild Elves, as the case currently was.

“Now, don’t be modest!” Darien interrupted. “You’ve more than proven yourself. Destiny beckons and you must answer its call….”

“Hey, that sounded pretty good,” Louise smiled at him.

“I know! I should write this stuff down!” Darien smiled back.

“Gag!” Karlieah said, miming a gagging motion at all the sweet flirtatiousness going around. “Fine. I’ll fight him. Just… stop flirting!”

“No promises,” Darien and Louise said in a synchronized way.

“So, what’s this weakness?” Louise asked.

“Fire,” Karlieah answered. “Ruins his specific invulnerability.”

“Oh, we can get you two fire.” Darien smirked. “Once we get the Lion Guard Archers in, anyways, we can-”

“DO I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING MYSELF!? FIND THEM!!!” Another roar interupted Darien.

“Guess you’d better hurry,” Darien said, pointedly glancing at the door. “And stay safe out there. Can’t get drinks without drinking buddies, after all.”

“OF course,” Louise nodded.

And so, the two girls headed out into the city proper.

“So you two seem to be… friendly.” Karlieah mused as they slipped from the Inn to the first tower, the closest one, and the one that was furthest south.

“He’s nice.” Louise smiled. “Quen introduced us that first night before everything went to hell.”

“‘Fore she disappeared, you mean.”


“So… jus’ me being silly,” Karlieah began as she ran up to the doors of the first tower. “But do you like ‘im?”

Louise didn’t answer, instead, rushing inside to light the signal fire.

Karlieah waited patiently, killing tie by slaying werewolves and Bloodthorn cultists.

Louise had her answer when she returned. “Well, we both remembered what was going on after time slipped up, so… we kind of had that to talk about?”

They began running through the city for the next tower.

“And apparently that lead into plannin’ this insane mission??” Karlieah asked, casually sniping a Bloodthorn Cultist in the back of the head before they realized who was sneaking up on them.

“Well, yeah, we were going to try and retake the city by ourselves today, but then we heard you fighting your way through the city so we decided to change things up a bit.” Louise nodded. “I mean, we weren’t expecting the Lion Guard to show up so it was just going to be me and Darien leading the charge up to the castle and… hold that thought.”

She went into the next tower, and once more Karlieah waited by killing enemies coming at her. She hoped these werewolves weren’t the cursed towns folk, because that would just be sad.

Louise returned a minute later- a spattering of green dust covering her face.

“I tripped coming down the stairs,” was all she offered in explanation before they resumed their march across the street towards the final tower.

“So, you were sayin’, jus’ you and the knight boy?” Karlieah asked.

“Yeah. I think he might be connected in some way towards what brought me here,” Louise answered. “Maybe, specifically, in resolving it.”

And then she disappeared into the final tower.

Another round of slaying later- Louise re-emerged with a determined look on her face- “Let’s go kill an immortal werewolf.”

“Archers! There’s your target. Ignite, draw back, and Release!”

Faolchu died much too easily once that line had been said. So had Louise’s long hair- having been scorched by falling embers from the suddenly collapsing roof.

The General appraised Karlieah’s work with a “You did it!” Karlieah countered with “It was a group effort,” to which the General said, “Yes, but you turned the tide. We had all but lost the war before you came and showed us the way to victory.” While this was happening, Louise slipped away, leaving Karlieah with the only come back that she could think of:

“Why were they so interested in Camlorn?”

“My son may know more than me on that matter. My only guess is that they sought to break the Lion Guard. Divide our forces and destroy us. if not for your intervention, they very well may have succeeded.”

“There’s trouble in other places?”

“Yes, Throughout Glenumbra. The Lion Guard is spread thing, and without King Casimir’s full support I’m not sure if we’ll be able to deal with it all. Of course, if I had a few more like you–”

“No. Just…. Tell me what happens to Camlorn now?”

“We rebuild. Of course we still need to deal with Faolchu’s master. But tomorrow is another day and we should relish this victory.” He laughed. “Well, don’t let me keep you. We both have things to do and you should speak with my son.”

And so Karlieah went off to find the familiar head of hair that was Louise’s hair color- it stood out obviously among the lion guard armor, being blondish with large dark splotches covering nearly the bottom half, and especially next to Darien, who looked as bland as bland could be next to the other soldiers.

‘Seriously? Did he come out of a soldier factory or somethin’?’ Karlieah shook her head as she thought that.

“…shall we find a bottle of wine and drown out our memories of today?” Darien was asking of Louise as Karlieah walked up.

“Save it for yer entourage, Cap’n,” Karlieah interupted. “Yer Father sent me ta speak with ya.”

“Oh? Well, first off, I wanted to thank you for showing up. We might have been able to retake Camlorn eventually, but it wouldn’t have been this quick, and it wouldn’t have been pretty. You helped us save lives, and that’s not something I’ll soon forget.” He paused. “So, what do you want?”

“We need to deal with Angof.” Karlieah said. “I overheard him talkin’ to Faolchu while we sneaked in to fight him. He’s the real culprit in all o’ this, and he wasn’t too pleased to see us entering behind ‘im like that. Basically left Faolchu there ta rot!”

“I agree that dealing with him is the next step.” Darien nodded. “I’ll be retiring from the Camlorn Guard soon, Camlorn needs buildiers, not soldiers. Maybe I’ll go mercenary for a while, or maybe join the Fighters Guild. Maybe we could travel together and hunt him down?”

“That sounds great!” Louise smiled, seeming completely smitten with the guy.

“Wonderful,” Karlieah sighed- nursing a headache with her free hand. “Why don’t… you two go do that? Then?”

“What? You’re not coming with us?” Darien asked.

“It’s…  I’ve got to check in on Quen. See if she’s alright.” Karlieah shook her head. “Louise, meet me up in Wayrest once you’ve had your fun down here.”

“Sounds like a plan!” Louise said. “Tell her I say hi!”

“Hah, sure,” Karlieah nodded as she left. ‘If she even remembers.’
As she walked off, Louise nearly a double take. “Huh.”

“What?” Darien asked.

“When did she tie her pony tail up into a bun? I hadn’t even noticed…” Absently, she glanced at a strand of her own hair, hanging between her eyes. “Say, Darien?”

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Do you think ash burns wash out?”

“Ah…. well…” Darien blinked as he processed the question, then answered,  “Honestly, I don’t know!”

A brick shifted, and then was pulled loose- pouring moon light into the space beyond, and highlighting a crystal’s edge, poking out through the corner of a bag.

‘Oh thank the Founder, it’s still here.’ Louise sighed in relief as she pulled the bag out of the wall and began replacing the bricks. Once she’d finished, she then pushed the bag containing the giant ruby soul gem into a larger backpack bag that could hold it and mostly clothing. ‘I was afraid the werewolves got to it, or that it’d gone missing in that time shift- but it’s still here, so… I’m good.’

Once the priceless gemstone was safely hidden, Louise took a look around the rest of the room. Unfortunately, at some point during the werewolf’s attack on the city- the magical system controlling the water pumps for the special room had been disrupted, and it was no longer functioning. She’d tested it earlier, just to see if she could get some water running to try washing the burn marks off of her hair, but… it hadn’t, and so Darien had offered his skills at giving impromptu haircuts via long sword.

Reaching a hand up towards the back of her head, Louise felt the trimmed edges of her hair- once long and flowing, it was now barely long enough to reach her shoulders. Louise looked towards a mirror, and sighed. She looked a bit like Tabitha now, she supposed, if Tabitha’s hair had Louise’s hair color instead of her own light blue coloring.

This world that she now lived in- Tamriel- didn’t seem to have the many vibrant hair colors that her world, Halkegnia, had. Even her own hair had gone from a subtly pinker shade to its current mostly-blonde hue in the transition from one dimension to another. A part of Louise’s mind wondered if that wasn’t a result of her soul being stolen- or maybe if it was just an actual part of crossing between dimensions. If she found a way into some third, unknown world, would her hair change colors to be something absurdly different as well? Say, dark purple or an eye searing green? Or was it all just a trick of the natural lighting of the sun that hung over the two different worlds? Could it be that her hair really was the same color- just that it looked different here in Tamriel because the sunlight (And thus the reflected moonlight) was just that different from the light brought on by the sun she’d grown up under??

It was a mystery for the ages, she supposed, but one that was worth investigating if she ever found a way back home….

A home that likely was ashen ruins all over- much like Camlorn now stood, except on a massive scale.

Louise had seen what Coldharbour had looked like only briefly, but she didn’t like the idea that her home country of Tristain was now under similar oppression, if anyone was still–

‘That’s enough of that!’ Louise yelled at herself as she slapped her cheeks with her hands. There was no point in speculating what the truth of the matter was while she was here. If she lived the rest of her un-deathly life without ever finding out what had happened to her home land, that would be just as fine. If she found a way back, she’d deal with that in its own time.

For now, she’d continue to face forwards on whatever strange path she’d settled into, and where-ever it lead, she’d face it head on.


A.N.: Took forever to get this post figured out. Life has been chaotic lately.


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Your name is Hildegard, although sometimes it’s hard to remember that.

You’ve spent so long in this forest, so long it’s hard to keep track of the days. One just blurs into the next as you scavenge for food and water. Most days you just work on auto pilot, letting the wolf decide what you do. You’re feral, though the word doesn’t come to mind.

Then, come the days when you’re forced to remember. When the transformation ends and you’re left just a girl in the forest, unarmed, unarmored, unclothed. Those are the days you spend hidden away in your cave, curled up under the few animal hides you’ve managed to carve off of one of your hunts. Those are the days you try to regain some control over your throat, to remember how to write, how to be human. That comes with the regret. The pain that you caused your family- your pack- from your lack of control.

You scratch out stories in the walls- tales of a silver wolf who could do good in the world with her transformation. How she had an amulet that would let her talk no matter the form she had, so that she would always be understood. It is all a wish, a fable, a tale, yes, but they’re what you wish to be one day. What you wish to be versus what you are.

A child who cannot control what power she has.

And then you’re the wolf again, without provocation, and you’re wild and free once more. You forget.

You forget, and you hunt.

You come across a man one day, a man who is not scared of you. He sees you, prowling, and instead of trying to kill you he sees something worth saving.

When you’re the wolf, you’re never sure of what you’re doing. When you come to as a human once more, you’re small in his arms, and he’s bleeding from the face- where you must have clawed him. But he doesn’t mind, he’s smiling and he’s simply THERE, telling you that everything will be alright.

Kor is your brother, you soon decide. He is your protector, your guardian. When you lose control, he’s there to pull you back from the brink- from the edge of losing who you are inside yourself to the pull of the wolf. It’s all still there, and it’s hard to keep control when you don’t have an outlet for those animal urges and instincts anymore.

But that, Somehow, is solved when you’re both recruited into the Dark Brotherhood, and your hunter’s instincts are allowed to flourish on the hunt. When you’re allowed to hunt down those marked for death, and take them to the void without regret.

You trade one cage for another, however. The days when you lose control and turn into the wolf, you lock yourself away into a room in the sanctuary. You cower in a corner and wait for the transformation to wear of so you’re not in danger of hurting anyone. Kor tries his best during those times, but like when you were wild, and you had to protect your human self from others, you hide away and force your mind to keep itself stable.

Somedays, you’re able to force a transformation back. Others, you’re stuck with stories running through your head. Stories that you eagerly write down once you’ve turned back to ‘normal.’

Normal? Is that really the word for a werewolf that can’t control her changes? Is that the word for an assassin of the Dark Brotherhood?

The other members of the Family try to make you feel welcome, but you always feel a sense of… tension? Wariness?? What is the word? You’re not sure. Regardless, you’re never quite sure that you belong. That they’re not just tolerating you for your skills, or Kor’s for that matter.

New people come, and new people go. Assassins have started dying recently. You’re afraid, cautious. Concerned. It’s enough to loose your control, and you lock yourself away. Kor tries to get you to come to the cage door, to meet one of your new brothers or sisters in the family. You don’t, though. You don’t want to meet someone new.

As they start to come into scent range, you retreat to the other end of the cage. You don’t want to learn their scent…. But you catch a whiff anyways, and you smell… something familiar. Something wolfish. You eye the newcomer, a woman, tall, muscular- but wired in a way that’s familiar. You see something in her eyes. The wolf can’t identify it. You aren’t sure if she’s a werewolf or not, either.

Every time she comes by the cage, you hide away. You don’t want to  make friends with her. But she comes by anyways, tries to talk with you some times, says nothing others, just waiting for you to make the first move. She’s a werewolf too, she says. You don’t want to forge a connection because of that.

Kor tells you about the new blade as she completes contracts- she’s making a name for herself, this girl. Then comes the moment when you finally met her face to face as a human. You and Kor are talking with the Matron, and the girl approaches from the side. She stands there, silent, listening as Kor and the Matron talk. You stay silent as well, for the most part. You and the new blade observe each other.

She’s definitely a Lycanthrope. You can smell the blood and the wolf on her. You can SEE the control. Unlike you who holds your arms close and tries to make yourself small, she stands confident, power coiled within her muscles, ready to strike at any moment. She’s more of an assassin than you are, you think. You recognize her face, she’s some champion of the Aldmeri Dominion who lead an assault against Coldharbour. You saw the newspaper in a thieves den once. She’s a trained killer through and through. She belongs here, not you. But the look in her eyes as she regards you is… Pity? Remorse? It’s definitely one of the sadder emotions but you just aren’t sure what it is.

Neither of you directly speak a word. You hide yourself away somewhere high up, and watch as the new blade tries her best to try and find you before she heads out on contract.

A contract where she and Kor save one of your brothers from certain death.

You’re frightened, scared, and you run away after listening to someone you shouldn’t have. You hide in the forests where you once roamed wild and free, and you can’t find your cave. Is it gone now?  Are you even in the right place? You roam as the wolf, but you don’t find anything at all…

Then you hear a wolf howling and the sounds of battle. You RUN… And then Kor finds YOU, gets you to calm down and turn back. The new blade isn’t too far behind, readjusting her clothes as if having just turned back.

She did, of course.  As she and Kor convince you to come back to the Gold Coast via cart, you and her talk. She tells you of how they tracked you down,  how she killed the hunters that had been sent after you- how she went wolf on their leader for a finishing touch of irony. The ride back gives you time to think, time to realize that even someone you avoided, and wanted nothing to do with, still risked her life to help save you.

You are wanted.

The days go on, contracts are filled, and while you still feel like you might lapse in control eventually, you start to think that you might maybe now have a Sister along with your Brother- different from your brothers and sisters in the sanctuary. You are Hildegarde. You have a family. And for the first time, you feel as if you’re getting a firm grasp of control in your life.

And then Mirabelle is killed by the Black Dragon and, and— everything falls apart.

And yet, she is there to pick up the pieces.

Somehow, it is this new blade this new girl this werewolf who saved you, this one person who keeps everything from falling apart.

In the final fight against the enemy who spawned this accursed chain of revenge and death- you’re stopped in time so often that it seems like the girl and the priest are teleporting across the room… She fights as a wolf- and when the damned priest finally goes down… she returns to human form to finish him.


She has had so much control… and yet as she accepts the title of Silencer, you can see her hesitate for the first time.

A resigned look, a sigh, you could particularly equate it with “This, again?” Exasperation- how many ceremonies had she been through to become this desensitized to this kind of thing?

Several Weeks Later, the Silencer announces her departure for Orsinium… And…You want to go with her. You do. You want to see how she operates, how she works. You try to convince the Matron, you try to convince Kor, you try to convince the Silencer…

In the end, you stay at the Sanctuary.

It was probably for the best, given that no less than a month later, you all recieve word of the Silencer slaying King Kurog, thus stopping his insane attempt at killing all of Orsinium’s Clan Chiefs.

The Speaker is annoyed in that subtle way even he cannot quite hide behind his cool demeanor. Such a messy and public execution… He and the Matron speak with the Silencer upon her return, and you can’t help but to sneak up the hallway and listen into their conversation.

“Slaying the KING of Orsinium in full attire??” The Matron asks, enraged. “Have you gone mad!?”

“No, he was the mad one,” The Silencer counters. “Besides that, he and his mother tried to puppet me into killing my allies. Sithis’ will prevented that, however… and I showed them the error of their ways.” She is calm, collected, even despite everything.

She has Control over the situation.

“And you chose to wear the robes of the Silencer, rather than those of a normal assassin?” The Speaker asks.

“To show how grave of a mistake they had made.” The Silencer answers. “And to… normalize our presence, in the eyes of the Orcs.” Silence falls between the three of them, so she explains. “When Trinimac’s worshipers went insane and prepared to slaughter everyone who was not one of them, who saved them? Not Malacath, but Sithis. The Dread Father sent his Child to send the Mad King back to the void where he belongs. Those who faced my blade, and lived? They will forever remember that they live because I let them escape… and will forever be looking behind their backs at the shadows chasing them, fearing that one day, it will be my blade that digs itself into their backside.” She shifts, and places something onto the table in two large chunks. You peer out around the door frame and see the bloodied remains of a sword, broken in twain. “They will forever know that Sithis and the Night Mother repay all of their karmic debts.”

You have no idea what the sword is meant to represent, but you see it, and you see the looks on the Matron and the Speaker’s faces. Shock, awe… fear, and also respect.

“And speaking of debts,” The Speaker coughs. “The Listener has requested that you speak to them in person. The information you seek has been found.”

“Where, and when?” The Silencer asks.

“They said you would understand this riddle,” The Speaker shakes his head, “‘Meet at the Place where Scrolls Fell, and Dragons Ascend to meet the next full moons.”

“I see…. Skuldafn,” The Silencer laughs, just a little. “Of course it would be there.”

And so she turns to leave, and you hide in the shadows as quickly as you can.

The Silencer pauses as she steps out of the room, eyes glancing over at where you’re hiding… She sniffs, and of course she could smell you. She says nothing, then heads down the hallways towards the dining room and kitchen… You follow.

It is once you’re in the room, and you find Kor standing over a cooking pot, sniffing at the stew that Remains-Silent is cooking up, that the Silencer speaks.

“Kor, look who I found sneaking around outside my meeting with the Speaker and Matron.”

“Oh?” He turns, looks and, confused. “Hilde?? What were you doing over there??”

“I…” You admit that you were curious. “I just wanted to find out what happened in Orsinium.”

“Ah…” Kor nodded slightly, glancing at the Silencer. “So what did happen out there, Argo?”

“I’d rather not retell it again right now,” She answers.

“Ah… well… that’s understandable,” Kor then motions to the pot of stew. “Remains-Silent’s making dinner!” A wonderful change of subject, Brother.

“It smells delicious!” you say, smiling.

“Agreed,” The Silencer nods. “It smells wonderful.” She says to the Argonian, who, true to her name, remains silent. “I think I’ll stay, then. It’s been a while since I’ve had a home cooked meal.”

Soon enough, the Argonian woman pours out the stew into four bowls, and you all dig in. You intentionally eat slower than the others, observing them as they eat. Kor is fast, but messy. Remains-Silent is slow, careful, and yet somehow eats more in refills in the same time the rest of you are on your first bowl. The Silencer eats fast- but seems to be forcing herself to slow down.

“So what’s at Skuldafn?” You finally work up the nerve to ask once you’re half-way through your bowl.

If death could be delivered by a sentence, you’re sure you would have almost caused the Silencer to choke on her stew with those words.

“Skuldafn?!” Kor asks, surprised. “You mean that big huge Ancient Nordic Temple up in Eastmarch?”

“That’d… that’d be the one,” The Silencer nods. “The Listener has agreed to meet me there during the rise of the full moons, next week.”

“Wow, that’s…” Kor trails off, looking astonished. Even Remains-Silent seems surprised by that declaration. “The Listener? Really?? That’s quite the accomplishment! I don’t think I’ve ever heard of her stepping out of the Nightmother’s Crypt in the last few years!”

“Why Skuldafn, though?” You ask, and the Silencer gets an uncomfortable look on her face as she sets her spoon down into the last dregs of her stew.

“A dear friend of mine disappeared from there in a mysterious accident. I’ve been hoping that maybe Sithis could tell me somehow that they’re alive or dead.” The Silencer answers.

“That’s a lot to ask of the Dread Father,” Kor muses. “Must be some friend.”

“Like a sister to me, really,” she laughs, bitterly, and you can hear the irony in that statement even as she stands up, and gives a bow to Remains-Silent. “Thanks for the stew. It was wonderful.” Remains-Silent, true to her name, remains silent, but nods just the same.

Kor doesn’t go to stop her as she leaves, nor does he try to stop you as  you follow the Silencer one more.

“What was she like?” You ask.

“Too eager to prove herself grown up,” The Silencer answers, tiredly. “Fast with a blade, though. Put two in her hands and she’d cut through her enemies like they were nothing.”

“What was her name?”

“Glass.” It comes quick, and smells like a lie.

“Glass?? Who names their kid ‘glass’?”

“A Khajiit.” You’re fairly certain she’s making this up now just to get you to back off.

“Can I come with you to Skuldafn?”

“No!” She turns around sharply then- stopping in her stubborn march forwards towards the Sanctuary’s entrance. You look into her eyes, and you see… fear. Loss, pain, but mostly fear.

There is no sign of control on her face at all.

“Don’t…” She says. “Don’t. Just…. Don’t. It’s not safe there.”

“Why?” You ask.

“Because–” Because why? You remind her too much of the friend she lost? “Because I’m not your guardian. Kor is.” And with that, she turned to leave.
You had one trump card, though.

“It’s because I remind you of her, isn’t it?”

She stopped.

“You’re a werewolf too… so was she? Is that why…?” You trail off as she turns around and looks at you, sadness in her eyes, tears brimming and…

“…Ask me again when I find out if she’s alive or not, okay?”

And then she disappears into a cloud of shadow and is gone before you can even formulate a response. After a few moments, you nod, then turn back towards the kitchen, thinking.

She had no control when her friend… her sister?… was lost. You’ll let her have it on this. She may be the Silencer now, but… Argo was someone you considered a sister first and foremost.

You decide for certain now… Regardless of what fate befell Argo’s friend/sibling, you’ll… you’ll try to be the best sister you can be.

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Posted by on August 6, 2016 in Argo The Rat, ESO


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Orsinium’s Silence

DLC Spoilers for Orsinium below.

“Kurog will die this day.”  Argo swore as she changed out of her thieves guild leathers for a larger set of robes in her bag. “I will Silence this Madness once and for all.”

The Orcish woman who had pulled her out into this room looked on in confusion and a slight state of awe at the deep black and shining blue robes- framed with a rib like golden fray.

What was most surprising was the solid round panel with a black hand painted onto it.

Just what kind of person had the King betrayed?

The Shield Wives faltered as the robed woman strolled into the Throne Room. There was the aura of certain death about this woman- the Outsider their King had told them to kill should she appear.

That was when they saw the Black Hand over the heart, mere moments before the Silencer aimed her Restoration staff at them, and the fight begun.

They knew they were doomed, though they fought valiantly. And so their souls were sent to Sithis.

The Priestess gave off her dying breaths in the arms of her fellow Priest- and that was when the Soldier who had given the command saw the SHADOW move like lightning.

“Don’t let the traitor get past you!” She ordered, and ran up the stairs. A Fight broke out moments later, and ended just as quickly. The Soldier came to a dead end on the stairs of the Temple’s roof- and she turned to see the Specter of Death itself approaching with a Mighty Vengeance.

“W-Wait! Don’t kill me!”

“What is Kurog’s plan?” The Specter’s Demand was simple, and her information was freely given in hopes of survival.

Those hopes were dashed with an Ebony Blade of Woe to the heart.

Neither Trinimac or Malacath would ever see the Soldier’s Soul.

The Archer felt chills as she tried to work past the fact that her friend wore the robes of the Dark Brotherhood. Silently, determinedly, they worked through the bookshelves of the Temple Library in hopes of figuring out the puzzle that would let them get to the Moot before it was too late.

The only sign of surprise was when Argo found something on a shelf- a simple sheet of paper that to the Archer’s Eyes was blank- but regardless, it gave the woman enough shock to gasp in surprise.

“What is it?” The Archer asked of her friend.

“Sometimes, I can see things others cannot. Books written by spirits, or letters written by those lost in another world…” Her friend tapped the letter. “I Suppose this appears blank, to you?”

“It does,” The Archer nodded.

“Then I know he’s alive, somehow, somewhere…” She breathed out, “Now I have more hope for my sister.”

The Puzzle was unlocked shortly after that, and then, they charged into the Moot.

The Archer watched as her friend drove through whole hordes of Trinimac Soldiers- like a blade of death emerging in the form of a Restoration Staff. It was ironic- was it not- that death would come from she who held a symbol of life? The large robes seemed to do little to hinder Argo’s Movements, as she flowed like a river- bending and slaying with a determined and scarry look within her eyes.

And then they came to the final gate that bared them away. Bazrag began lifting it, and their friend began to mutter.

“First the Mother, then the Son. So begins a contract bound in blood.”

It was a creepy sentiment, but what else was to be expected from such an assassin?

The gate was barely half way open when Argo dove beneath with an ease that seemed impossible with that skirt that hid the feet themselves.

“KUROG!” Her voice overpowered the King, and all eyes turned to stare at her. The Chiefs that knew of the woman all stared as this person- this force of nature that had aided all of them in the past weeks- was turned on those who had brought her here to Orsinium.

“Y-You!!” The Forge Mother cried out. “You traitor! You dare inter-!?”

“SHUT. UP.” The Silencer’s voice boomed. “Just shut up you damned Hag. I trusted you and Kurog… but you betrayed me. You have no idea what a mistake that was.” She glared at him, and his mother, and for centuries to come, The Orc Chiefs would speak of Sithis born mortal into the world. “You used me for your own gain, and you used the God you claimed to worship as a tool. You killed the Priestess who believed so firmly in you…” She pointed her restoration staff at the glowing shield the Forge Mother cast. “Consider your Lives Forfeit, and the Sacrament Performed in her name.” And then the gate was opened enough by Bazrag’s strength.

“Quickly,” the Archer called to the Chiefs, “through here!”


The Arrows never came, and the Chiefs were spared, even as Soldiers hesitantly came through their own gates. Kurog looked, and he SAW. He saw that they were gone. He saw that they had fled.

“She is a fool!” The Forge Mother said, barely spooked by this. “To worship Sithis! Trinimac’s true believers will END HER!”

The Soldiers clearly held no such faith, for the moment that they drew their weapons, SHE was upon them like Death Incarnate.

An Ebony Blade emerged, and slashed across any exposed skin, though it should not have killed all those it touched, it did.

Within moments, those who had not died *Ran*, and they *CRIED* as they ran.

The Chiefs were evacuated, and soon, all that remained in the Moot Arena was the Silencer herself.

“We will have to kill the traitors, the cowards, after we deal with her.” The Forge Mother declared.

King Kurog held no such faith, even as they descended into the arena.

The Chiefs of Orsinium stared, and watched.

She drew not the Blade, but fought with her staff, and her words. “Mother, Sweet Mother,” She less spoke and more sang as the fight began. “I send unto you a Mother who rules with an Iron Thumb!” The Forge Mother cast fire and flames, but neither dealt damage as the Silencer drained her life with a focus- a dedication and a determination that re-soundly reflected all blows from the King’s Greatsword. “She who bears false witness to Trinimac, and will soon feed the rats with her body’s CRUMBS!”

And then the Forge Mother was Slain.

“MOTHER! NO!” King Kurog mourned, and the Silencer stood, waiting, watching.

Death, it would be said, allowed a son to grieve before he would be slain.

As King Kurog turned on the Silencer with death, and strange magics in his eyes, it was said that the Silencer returned it with a gaze as flat as a mirror.

For every blow King Kurog threw at her- she deflected. For every chain sent to grab and to pull, it was returned with a force of a hurricane.

And so the Silencer intoned, “Mother, Sweet Mother, I send unto you a Son who was twisted by greed and by rage.” She withdrew a blade that Bazrag had seen before- a weapon that Kurog had used against another Clan’s Chief, and then had given to the woman as a ‘reward’ for aiding him. A weapon that Bazrag had seen her reluctantly accept, with the look of someone who planned revenge. “He whose frozen heart shall be shattered by a blade of ice, mourn not for the blood that stains this book’s page.”

And then he was finished with a blow to the chest- an exact mirror of that which he himself had delivered not long ago. The look of horror- of understanding- the retribution he had wrought upon himself.

It would be said that Death then took that foul blade, broke it over her knee,  and threw the pieces aside, never to be used again.

None heard her whisper, “It is done.”


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Posted by on July 9, 2016 in Argo The Rat, ESO


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