Prologue

For as far as I could see, a musty, orange haze hung suspended in the sky as if caught by some errant spell, stretching well beyond where I could make out the road. The day's dying light caused the haze to glow slightly, casting the entire area in a dull orange illumination. I let out a long, exasperated sigh; many of my friends and the others in the small town thought that it was 'pretty' when the sky looked like this. In fact, many of the couples from school came to the very spot I was sitting at, on a slight sloping hill covered with grass at the edge of town, to admire the spectacle, thinking it romantic.

My thoughts on the matter, however, were altogether different.

Every time I looked out from this spot, I was filled with a feeling of...well, not quite nostalgia. Nostalgia was when you were thinking about the past, something you'd already experienced, and were looking back on. This feeling was more like longing: longing for what I hadn't experienced, and what I imagined I was missing, every day I was stuck in this damned hellhole of a town.

By the Nine Divines, did I hate Cropsford: the eyesore on the map of Cyrodiil.

Established near the beginning of the Fourth Era, by Barthel Gernand. This was just one of many lines that had been repeatedly drilled into my head, and that of my fellow classmates, as we had learned about the history of our small town. Using Gernand's example of self-reliance and determination as their guide, the people of Cropsford decided soon after the town's founding to isolate themselves from the rest of the world, hoping to escape the 'tyranny' of corrupt leaders and bureaucrats. Those who held similar beliefs soon came to the town as well, and now, 150 years later, Cropsford was a small, isolated farming town, one that frowned upon the presence of 'outsiders', and was even less enthusiastic about anyone in its already tiny population thinking about leaving.

That, of course, is where I come in.

"Yo, Felicity!" a voice cried out from behind me, the tone excited and impatient. "It's your turn! Come on!"

I forced myself up off the grass, and brushed any loose bits from my black, patchwork pants. I started for Gerard and the others as I casually brushed a long, hanging strand of bright brown hair from my face. "So, who won?" I asked with a nonchalant interest, my gaze shifting between the various members of the group.

There were seven other kids, either 17 or 18, like me, gathered around a small clearing a few dozen feet from the farmhouse furthest from the centre of town. I knew each of them from school, and knew that like me, they hated life here in Cropsford, and that they wanted to get out almost as badly as I did. That's why we came here every day, to do something to keep our minds off the monotony of our lives.

"Me, of course," came a deep, hoarse voice. I turned to look at Magnus the Bold, the hulking Nord of our group. He sported messy, dark red hair, with the patchy and undeveloped beginnings of a beard the same colour. He gave a slight, confident smile which I returned in kind as his steely gray eyes met with my deep blue ones. He hefted a blunted iron longsword, one of the two kindly provided to our group by Gerard's father, the town's blacksmith.

I turned to my left to see Tel Ran, a young Argonian, wincing slightly as he rubbed his right arm. "Here, Felicity," the lizard remarked, handing me the other iron sword with his free hand. "And be careful, he's in his 'zone' today."

I gave a slight nod of acknowledgement as I took the weapon, before facing Magnus, both of us ready for the go signal. As a Nord, I knew that he was a lot stronger and more durable than I was, and at six feet and three inches, he was a good half foot taller than me too. But as an Imperial, I knew that I was a lot faster and more agile than him. If I could just avoid getting hit by one of his blows, and I could get a good position on him, I knew I could take him down.

"Alright, you guys know the rules," Rebecca explained, standing to the side. The young Altmer sported a flowing head of blonde hair, and a bright blue house dress with a number of grass stains on the front, probably from her match with me earlier. I don't know how many times I must have told her that a dress was not something you fought in. "Last one standing is the winner, alright?" the Elf asked, looking between me and Magnus. We both nodded, and she took a step back, signalling the start of the fight.

Magnus and I both began circling each other, trying to find a good position. I wouldn't have minded directing the setting sun in the Nord's eyes, except that would mean I was charging up the hill to him.

The man grinned confidently, as the others of the group cheered for their selected champion of the day around us. "I'm not gonna lose to you today, Felicity," the Nord boasted, keeping his blade ready in his right hand.

I gave a playful smile in response, gripping the hilt of my own weapon with both hands. "False hope doesn't suit you, Magnus," I taunted back, lowering my gaze slightly. The Nord chuckled in reply before launching himself in my direction, sword outstretched before him.

I quickly managed to dodge his clumsy attack, clearly meant to simply initiate the fight. With his arm still outstretched, I managed to manoeuvre my slender form behind the brutish Nord, and deliver a solid kick into his side. I wasn't overly worried about wounding my friend; I knew that the attack would act more as an annoyance than an actual detriment.

Seeming to agree with my evaluation of the situation, Magnus quickly spun around, his blunted sword geared towards chest level. I managed to block the strike with my own weapon, but the sheer force behind the Nord's attack sent me stumbling back, temporarily off balance. A number of the other kids behind me cheered, hoping for Magnus to quickly pull off a decisive victory.

And indeed, the Nord did make another charge at me, his blade braced closer to his chest this time. I managed to dodge the man's attack, which swiped downwards and to my left. I successfully got in a few good hits on Magnus while he was exposed, hitting the side of his chest with my weapon, albeit with relatively little force; just enough to knock the wind out of him. The Nord gave an amused grunt as he braced his longsword against mine, and we each opposed the other's strength.

My vision was focused on Magnus' calm but determined face as I strained against his superior strength, gritting my teeth. I could have tried to pull away, but that would have left me open so I had decided to try and hold my ground instead. The cheers of the others hooted behind me as I kept Magnus' blade from advancing further, which seemed quite odd in my mind. I looked over to Magnus' grip to try and figure out what was going on, and I quickly began to snicker.

The reason why my strength seemed so uncharacteristically equal to Magnus' was because unlike me, he was still using one arm. He stood with his free arm casually at his side, easily keeping me at bay with just the one. I imagined how ridiculous the scene must have looked like to the others, with me struggling with both hands to keep at bay the much larger and stronger Nord, who idly used his solitary sword arm. Despite my best efforts to the contrary, the corners of my mouth tugged into a large smile as I began to giggle, and soon after began to outright laugh. I felt my sword being pushed back as my strength faltered, and knew that I had probably lost.

It was then that Magnus' push too lost power, and I heard my laughter accompanied by a much deeper, heartier one. As my eyes welled with tears of joy I managed to look up at Magnus, who also began to laugh at the spectacle. It didn't take long before a half dozen more laughs rang out behind me, having spread to the rest of the group.

With a huge smile still on my face, I decided to go for broke and rush the Nord, releasing my blade and slamming into him with my full body weight. Taken off guard, he and I both collapsed onto the ground and tumbled down the hill, laughing all the way down. The others were quick to rush to our position, leaving the swords where they had fallen.

"You two alright?" Gerard asked us as he neared our resting place, a massive smirk on his face. Where we'd come to rest, I was laying on top of Magnus, both of us out of breath.

"Yeah, we're alright," I replied, smoothing back my flurry of long brown hair that had gone wild during the roll the Nord and I had shared. I felt at the back of my hair, and ensured that the long white ribbon that held my ponytail in place was still there. "But, I don't know who won that one..." I admitted, not knowing who had hit the ground first.

"What do you say we call it a draw?" Magnus suggested as both he and I got to our feet, brushing off loose strands of grass and dirt. He showed a massive, satisfied grin and held out an equally massive palm, eagerly waiting to be shaken.

I gave a nod, and grasped his hand eagerly. "A draw," I replied, smiling happily. "For today, at least."

It was moments like that, with my friends, playing and laughing, that made Cropsford a more tolerable place to live. What I had there, at that instant, made me forget what I was missing everywhere else. That serene mood, though, that feeling of tranquility, was soon shattered as an angry, gruff voice called out from the nearby farmhouse.

"Felicity!" the voice barked, angry and annoyed. I looked up the hill to see a man in a dirty white shirt and a pair of blue suspenders standing at the top of the hill, staring down at me and the others. "Get up here, this instant!" he demanded.

"Hell," I muttered, my good mood spoiled by this interloper. I looked between the others and gave an apologetic shrug. "Sorry, guys...I gotta go."

The others nodded grimly in reply, understanding the depth of my disappointment. "It's just as well," Rebecca pointed out, looking at the horizon as the sun sank beyond our view. "It's getting late anyways."

I knew that the others were trying to make me feel better, but my heart was still low in my chest. Why did he always have to do that? Couldn't he see I was enjoying myself? I resisted the urge to give out another sigh, and instead just shrugged. "I'll see you guys in school tomorrow, alright?" I said to them.

"Alright, then. Tomorrow," Gerard confirmed as he and the others began to slowly disperse. As usual, we left the weapons where they were; we came here practically every single day, and the others in the town didn't mind them being left there. Well, most of them, anyway.

"Felicity!" the man at the top of the hill barked again violently. "Get up here, now!"

"Yeah, yeah," I yelled back, my tone intentionally disrespectful as I dragged my feet. "Coming, father."

I finally reached the top of the hill, and my father glared at me the same way he always did, with anger and irritation that, once again, I'd disobeyed his high and mighty orders. "How many times have I told you that I don't want you around that group?" he growled, a gentle wind playing at his thinning crown of short, black hair.

"Too many," I replied, rolling my eyes. The reason he didn't want me around the others is because he didn't want me around other people who wanted out of Cropsford. He knew that every time a visitor from the outside world came to town for any reason, the eight of us were there, asking about the fabled Imperial City Arena, or the latest rumours, or, hell, anything they were willing to divulge. I knew he would have preferred that I take up an interest in farming, and becoming a bride and mother, than anything happening outside. He glared down angrily at me as we moved through the small streets of the town, finally arriving back at our house.

The moment I stepped through the door, the smell of roasting venison hit my nostrils, and I already knew that mom had almost finished supper. I quickly slipped off my shoes next to the door and made my way into the kitchen, not bothering to wait for my father.

Steam filled the small, white walled kitchen, billowing from pots filled with cooking vegetables and mixing with the aroma wafting from the venison on the dining table in the corner. Clearly recognizing that somebody was there, mom turned around and looked at me, as usual adorned in her long white apron. "Felicity!" she exclaimed, heading towards me with her arms outstretched. Despite her years, mom had managed to keep a rather slender figure, and was roughly my height. "Hello, dear," she said as we embraced each other in a loving hug. "Did you have a good day?"

"More or less," I replied, the scent of mom's floral perfume overpowering the smell of the food this close. I glanced back at the kitchen doorway as father stepped in, who glanced at the two of us hugging. "He did it again," I explained sourly.

Mom's eyes widened slightly, and she gave father a disappointed stare. "Jason, dear, why must you always embarrass her like that?" she asked, her tone reflecting her disapproval.

"I don't want our daughter mingling with vagabonds, Margaret," he replied, moving for the table. "Maybe if I 'embarrass' her enough, she'll stop going to see them every day, and begin acting like a woman." Without a hint of guilt or remorse, he seated himself at the head of the table, tucking the tip of a napkin in the collar of his shirt.

Mom's mouth went wide as she prepared to give father another of her famous speeches, but I shook my head, stopping her. "Don't waste your breath, mom," I cautioned. "He never listens anyway."

Mom hesitated for a moment, before giving me a weak smile that I knew meant sorry. I waved it off, knowing it wasn't her fault, before she gently coaxed me to the table, where I sat opposite from father. Mom returned to the vegetables, which she then promptly brought back to the table. She sat down to my right, between me and father, and with a silent acknowledgement between the three of us, we began to eat.

For several minutes, there was a calm, almost bearable silence at the table, as my father cut at his thick piece of meat and mom took small mouthfuls of potato. My mind elsewhere, I errantly played with the food on my plate, dragging a few pieces of corn with my fork.

"So, Felicity," my father began, looking up from his food at me. Great, I thought to myself, knowing that he was about to start another conversation, the last thing I wanted. "Have you thought at all about what you're going to do this year? You are 18, after all."

I grumbled silently to myself, my eyes darting back and forth across the room. I really didn't want to speak with my father about any of this. "I don't know," I lied, forcing a slight shrug. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, not that he'd approve of it. "I haven't really thought about it too much."

"Well," my mom piped in, looking at me. "I understand from William Macdonald's mother that he's looking for a wife," she explained; I knew that my mom wanted me to stay in Cropsford, settle down and have a family. In that regard, she was like my father. But, despite being equally determined, at least she wasn't as thoroughly unpleasant about the whole thing. "He's a handsome young man, Felicity, and you're quite a beautiful young woman. Between the two of you, I'm sure that your children would be-"

"Mother!" I cried out, letting my hands slam against the table in disbelief. In a closely knit community like this one, it was inevitable that people would simply 'arrange' to get married, rather than having an actual interest in the prospect, especially when you considered that said community was willingly isolated, and full of farmers with limited land to move around in. But the very notion of marriage didn't appeal to me in the least.

"Well you must do something, Felicity," father pointed out, leaning forward in his chair. "A farmer's life is not well suited for solitude; it's too much work for one person to handle alone."

Yet another reason why I want out of this hole, I thought bitterly to myself. My gaze fell to the floor as I mumbled my response. "I...I'm not planning to become a farmer."

Mom and father both looked shocked; they had often spoken of my future career as if it had been set by the Nine themselves. "What, then?" mom asked, still in disbelief from my bold statement. "A blacksmith? A carpenter?"

I looked up, and my gaze shifted between my parents for a moment as they awaited my response. I took in a shaky, nervous breath; I knew I'd have to tell them eventually, and it seemed as though now was the time. I shot up from my seat, and looked at them with excited eyes. "I...I want to be a mercenary!" I exclaimed.

My father looked at me as though I'd shoved a blade through his heart, slack jawed and his eyes confused. Mom looked blankly into space, as if not understanding, before giving me a hurt look. "You mean leaving Cropsford, don't you?" she asked, trying to cope with what I'd said. Although I had always told them I wanted to leave the town, I don't think they ever believed I'd actually do it. After all, there had been countless people who had said that growing up here over the years, and almost none of them ever did. I nodded my head to my mom.

"Absolutely not!" father roared angrily, shooting up from his seat. "I won't have my daughter as some scum-for-hire, and I certainly won't have you leaving the town!" He took a few menacing steps forward, and pointed a single, shaking finger in my face as rage boiled in his eyes. "I don't care what you think, you're not leaving Cropsford! You're my daughter, and I forbid it!"

The rage in my father's words sparked a similar feeling in me, and I slapped his hand out of my face. "You can't tell me what to do!" I roared back. "I'm not your property! You can't control me!"

Father raised his finger to its previous position, and took another step forward. "And you're never seeing those hoodlums from school again!" he threatened, narrowing his eyes. "I just know that they're the ones putting all these ideas in your head! I don't care if I have to talk to the Sheriff himself, you're not going anywhere near them again!"

At that moment, something inside me snapped; it was like all the hurt and pent up hostility towards my father from over the years all gushed up at once. "Shut the hell up!" I roared, so loud and forcefully that it made my throat sting. "I won't let you keep me here! I won't become a bitter old farmer like you!"

My father's patience seemed to have reached its breaking point, as he swept out his outstretched hand, catching me in the face with a backhanded slap. I let out a gasp of surprise as I staggered backwards, grasping at the point where he'd struck me. I couldn't believe that he'd actually hit me...

"Jason!" mom cried out, horrified by what she'd seen. She shot up from her seat and rushed towards me as I kept my hand on my face.

My father panted heavily as he glared at me. "You will do as I say, Felicity," he growled, his tone hard and cold. "Do you underst-"

My father was cut off as, with as much speed as I could muster, I lunged towards him, striking him hard in the jaw with a brutal uppercut. My fist throbbed with pain as it made contact with my father's bone, but I'd say he got the worse part of the exchange, as he stumbled back, landing on his rear.

I pulled away from my mother and took a few steps towards father, as he looked up at me, dazed and confused. I spit on his dirty white shirt, and glared at him with disgust. "I'm gone," I growled, before turning around and walking slowly to the door, and out into the town.

By now the sky had turned from a musty orange to a deep, undisturbed black, dotted with hundreds of stars overhead. I paid them little mind, however, as I headed for the road that led out of Cropsford...that led away from all of that.

"Felicity, wait!" my mother cried out from behind me, rushing out of the house. I turned and looked to her, and as she quickly approached I could tell from her watery eyes she was on the brink of crying. "Your father..."

"Is a bastard," I growled, completing her sentence. An orchestra of insects buzzed around us, but other than that the streets were empty and quiet; the others in the town were probably inside with their families.

"He loves you, Felicity," my mom pleaded, tears beginning to roll down her face. "I know that's hard to believe now, but he really does-"

"It's too late, mom," I replied sombrely, shaking my head. "I can't stay here anymore," I explained, before gesturing to the west with my hand. "Out there...that's where I belong. I have to leave."

My mother began to sob now, and embraced me in her arms. I too wrapped mine around her; I felt bad about leaving her, especially now, but it was something I had to do. "Mom...I love you," I told her softly, kissing her gently on top of her head.

My mom sobbed into my shoulder for another moment, before looking up at me with a pair of swollen, puffy eyes. "I...love you too, Felicity," she replied, her voice full of sorrow. She leaned over and kissed me lovingly on the cheek, before releasing me from her grasp. I gave a weak smile, and headed down the road again.

"Wait!" mom cried out again, heading towards me. She pulled a small leather pouch out of the pocket of her dress, beneath her apron, and handed it to me. "It's all I have, Felicity," she explained, before nodding slightly. "Please, take care of yourself. And, if you can, visit us from time to time," she requested.

I took the small pouch of gold, and placed it in my pocket. "Thanks, mom." My gaze fell to the ground, and I clenched my fists slightly. "And, please tell Gerard and the others...I'm sorry." I looked up to meet her sorrowful gaze with one of my own, before giving a final wave of departure. "Goodbye."

And with that, I headed out onto the road, leaving behind my friends, my family, and everything I thought I'd known about the world I lived in, intent on finally seeing what I'd been sheltered from for so long.

It's about time you posted this work of art. I just hope it gets the recognition it deserves.

The emotion at the end....oh man, it is awesome! I know I've said this before, but I love this story! (Which means a lot because unfortunately I don't get around to many fanfics because of my own writing...)

Keep it up, Nova. Pretty soon I'm going to start calling you 'Pro'.

That was a really good read. I always enjoy reading your stories.

Well, it's a good 'serious' fanfic. Strike that, it's possibly one of the best of those I've seen here.
But with the humorous 'Nathan' stuff you had virtually no competition. So, despite the qualities of this fanfic, I hope you return to 'Nathan and [whatever]' as soon as the wellsprings of inspiration flow freely again.
Yes, I'm selfish, always focused on my entertainment...

Wow, thanks everybody. I'm really glad that you like the story. And ?ber, I do plan on returning to the Nathan story once the old funny bone kicks in again. Until then, though, I hope you enjoy this story.

Speaking of which, here's Chapter 1. (I know the Prologue was pretty long, so I'm going to keep the chapter lengths to a manageable, Human size)

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Chapter 1

Four years later

It was an early, autumn afternoon, the sound of my horse's hooves against the ancient, cobbled stone of the Talos Bridge the only noticeable noise besides the dull rumble of thunder above me. I looked up at the sky as Clover slowly made her way across the currently deserted walkway, and paid special notice to the dark, roiling rainclouds that loomed overhead. I always found an afternoon thunderstorm relaxed me, and gave a slight smile at the prospect as I turned my attention back to the path ahead of me.

I slowly neared the stables just outside the gate to the Imperial City's Talos Plaza, and carefully guided Clover through the weathered wooden gate, and guided her near what seemed to be the only stable hand currently outside. The young, brown-haired Breton tore her gaze from her pitchfork and the pile of hay she had been attending, and looked up at me as I brought my mount to a stop.

The woman narrowed her eyes ever so slightly as she looked at me, perhaps remembering my face; I travelled to the Imperial City on a somewhat regular basis. After a brief moment, her expression changed to indicate that she had abandoned her effort, and she looked up at me with curious eyes. "Can I help you?" she asked, her tone neutral.

I carefully dismounted from Clover's back, and readjusted my black leather jacket as I gave the woman a slight nod. "Yeah," I replied simply. "I'm heading into the city for a bit. You mind watching my horse while I'm gone?"

The Breton worked her way onto the tips of her toes as she looked over my shoulder at Clover, as if evaluating the mare with an inquisitive look on her face. Her expression returned to normal, and she returned to the soles of her feet, giving a slight nonchalant shrug. "Sure," she replied casually. "I'll keep an eye on her. But if you want food or anything like that, it'll cost you."

I held up a single hand and shook my head. "I don't think I'll be that long. Just make sure she doesn't run off or something." I turned back to Clover, and ran my bare hand along the side of her neck. "You be good, alright? I'll be back before you know it," I explained to her. She turned her head around, and looked at me with a set of concerned blue eyes. "Don't worry, girl. I won't be long," I assured her, before patting her reassuringly on the neck. I turned around and gave one last glance to the stable hand, who had returned to her chores, before heading for the gates to the city.

The first thing I noticed upon entering the city was how empty the streets looked; normally, there were dozens of people mulling about, shopping, mingling, or just going about their day. But at that moment there were only a small handful of people wandering about the streets, and their pace unusually brisk; if I had to guess, people were staying inside because of the potential rainstorm that was quickly approaching.

I set off to the northern door in the district, remembering that the bridge to the Imperial City Prison, and also the Legion offices, was located near the Market District. Unlike the others who quickly rushed through the streets, however, I took my time as I walked, making a point to admire the antique architecture of the city's buildings. There was a deep, resounding snap that echoed through the air, like a massive whip slapping the ground, and the awaited rain began to aggressively pummel the streets, driving the majority of those still outside to some indoor refuge. I maintained my leisurely pace, however, all the way through the Elven Gardens District, until I finally made my way into the Market District, the economic centre of the currently dormant metropolis.

"Man, can you believe we're the ones who get stuck with these [censored] shifts!?" a Legionnaire roared to his comrade over the sound of the rain violently striking the ground, drowning out all but the loudest speech. He and his fellow stood alongside one of the market's large stone structures, presumably hoping, in futility, that it would shelter them from the onslaught of water.

"I know what you mean! I'm freezin' my ass off out here!" the other hollered back, apparently just as displeased with the weather as his friend. I simply shrugged, dismissing the duo as a pair who couldn't appreciate a good rainstorm. I made my way further down the street before turning into a weapon shop, The Paragon, hoping that my order had finally been completed.

The inside of the shop was depressingly dark; besides the lack of proper lighting, the walls and floor seemed to be a solid black, probably from a combination of soot, dust and dirt. I cautiously made my way down a short hallway with an exit off to the side, stepping into the main room of the shop. "Hello?" I asked, not immediately seeing anybody near the counter, or anywhere else in the room. "Beltran? Are you here?"

"What? Who is it?" came a disgruntled voice from immediately behind the counter. A second later the irritated face of a middle-aged Bosmer, his face dark as a Redguard's with filth, popped out from behind the fixture. "What do you...oh, it's you Felicity," he observed, his expression softening considerably. "I haven't seen you in, damn, how long was it?"

I gave the short Elf a slight half-smile, arching a solitary eyebrow. "It's only been a week, Beltran," I countered, before stepping up to the counter. I could tell that it was noticeably warmer here than where I had just been standing; the blacksmithing furnace in the back must have been going. "I came to see if it was ready yet."

The Bosmer smith's face lit up as he recalled what I was talking about, and he bit down on his lower lip slightly. "Oh right, that..." he replied nervously, tapping his foot on the floor. He turned around to the room behind him, his facial expression hidden from my view. "Um, I think it's gonna be a bit longer. Maybe a week."

"A week?" I asked in disbelief, grasping the edge of the counter with my hands. Immediately my palms felt gritty and greasy, and I quickly removed them, before wiping them on my coarse, black fabric pants. "But it's been almost a month!"

"What can I tell you?" the Elf replied before shuffling into the back room, aglow with the red hot fire inside the furnace. "I'm not exactly used to working with adamantium. And that weird blade design you asked for isn't helping matters much either."

"I guess," I admitted, rubbing my right leather boot sheepishly against the back of my left leg as I looked to the side. He wasn't exactly wrong; most people weren't familiar with adamantium ore. I'd saved up money for a number of months to be able to afford to have the stuff shipped here all the way from a small time supplier in Mournhold. And as for the blade itself... "Just I have a job coming up, and I was hoping it'd be ready is all."

"Oh?" Beltran asked from the other room, followed by a rattling of metal on metal. I leaned my head out to the side to try and see what he was doing in there, but to no avail. "Well, in that case." After another round of rattling, the Bosmer walked out of the back room, a long, thin blade encased in a sheath in his hands. My face must have lit up like a schoolgirl's, because Beltran broke out with a massive, satisfied grin. "I actually finished it yesterday," he revealed, presenting the weapon to me; he loved to mess around with his customers like this. Well, with me, anyways.

I hastily reached out my hands and grabbed the sheathed weapon, drawing it in close. I grabbed the handle with my right hand, and excitedly withdrew the adamantium dai-katana that Beltran had crafted. I took care not to draw it completely from its sheath; the blade's length was such that I wouldn't have been able to handle it with one hand, and the sheath was still in my left. Still, I could tell from the feel that the blade was strong and sharp, and even in the dark confines of the shop, the metal seemed to flare with a white brilliance.

"I'm quite proud of it myself," Beltran pointed out with a grin, crossing his arms over his chest. "I think it turned out pretty damn good."

I gave a nod of keen approval, before reaching behind my back to grab my old steel dai-katana. The ponytail that extended to my shoulder blades brushed past my old weapon as I removed it, and eagerly replaced it with the new one I'd been provided. "Thanks, Beltran. I've been looking forward to this," I explained, placing the old weapon on the counter in front of me; I didn't really have any need for it now, plus I didn't have the room.

"You're welcome, Felicity," the Elf replied happily with a nod. He leaned forward against the counter with his forearm, and gave me an intently curious look. "So what's this job you have lined up, anyway?"

I crossed my arms smugly over my chest, and flashed the Elf a slight grin. "Well," I began, "some General from the Legion, McGregor, I think it was, contacted me." I gave a casual shrug as I continued my explanation. "Something about bandits out in Anvil, or something like that."

"The Legion, huh?" Beltran countered, his expression a unique combination of concern and intrigue. "That's all right, I guess. I didn't think that they normally needed outside help, though."

"Well, apparently there's been a number of raids around the province, and they just don't have enough people to spare at the moment," I replied calmly. "So they're getting a few mercs to help them out. Usually when they hire out like this, they pay pretty damn well, too."

"Whatever works for ya, I suppose," Beltran replied with a shrug, grabbing the old steel blade on his counter before slowly heading back for his furnace. "Just try not to get killed on some half-cocked assignment, alright?"

I suppressed a slight chuckle, and gave a wave as I headed back towards the door. "I'll do my best," I replied enthusiastically. "And I'll let you know how the blade turns out, okay?" With those last words of parting, I headed for the door, and once more into the streets of the Market.

It was raining just as hard as it had been when I'd gone inside Beltran's shop, only now the frequent roaring of thunder had added itself to the constant chorus of the rain. The two guards from before had apparently moved on, their former spot now vacant. In fact, there weren't any other people visible in the streets outside; I figured they had all taken shelter by now.

I headed further down the street, towards where I knew the bridge to the Imperial City Prison was located. On a whim, I looked up at the sky as I walked, letting the rain fall into my open mouth and wash across my face. I really loved days like this; something about them made me feel contented, and at peace. With a smile of satisfaction I shook the excess water from my hair, and continued towards the doors to the prison.

Chapter 2

I slowly worked my way across the massive stone walkway that connected the Market District to the prison, the rain that pummelled the thick, lush green foliage around me creating a misty veil that seemed to engulf the world. I felt the cold water run down the length of my neck and soak through my leather boots, and grinned happily to myself as it did so. Once I was about halfway across the bridge, I looked off to my left, where I could see Lake Rumare.

The sky overhead was still a dark, heavy grey, looming over the forested hillside that served as a backdrop for the pristine lake at its base. The water churned and thrashed as waves of rain crashed into its surface, causing a slight mist to arise from the lake, blurring the scene and giving it a dreamlike quality. I stood there, transfixed by the beauty of the scene for several minutes, simply listening to the sound of the rain interrupted only by the sound of my own breathing. I finally decided that I had indulged myself enough, and continued on my way to the prison.

As I stepped inside the prison, through the massive, intricately detailed wooden doors, I could see clearly that the dormancy within the Imperial City was not reflected here. Even as the weather heavily bore down on them, small squads of Legionnaires marched proudly through the compound, in defiance of their invincible adversary, as solitary officers sprinted professionally between the buildings lining the circular inner wall of the area. I carefully manoeuvred my way through their paths, not feeling particularly eager to interrupt a military exercise. I made my way up a small, narrow staircase that led up to a tall, central building that easily dwarfed the others in the compound, and made my way to the heavy, metal gate that adorned its right side, barring my way to the rear offices.

A single Legionnaire, slightly taller than me, stood idly at the gate, seemingly lost in his own thoughts amidst the rain. He seemed to snap out of it as I approached, though, and looked at me curiously with a pair of light brown eyes, tilting his head slightly to the side. His face was youthful, and was completely devoid of the look of experience I'd come to expect from those employed in the Empire's military. I figured he was probably just a simple city guard, spending most of his time on duty here, never exposed to any real combat. I couldn't understand how anybody could possibly put up with such a post.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the man began, his tone just marginally quieter than a yell to be heard over the sound of the rain slapping relentlessly against the ground. He took a single step towards me, his hand outstretched before him in a symbolic gesture of authority. "No unauthorized people beyond this gate. You'll have to head back." The flawless, practiced way in which the man delivered his line told me that he must have repeated it dozens, if not hundreds of times throughout his career. It was probably as much excitement as the poor guy saw with this job.

I quickly but calmly stuffed my hands into the pockets of my jacket, and began rummaging through their contents with a specific purpose in mind. The Legionnaire lowered his hand and furrowed his brow slightly, keeping his gaze fixed on my pockets as I sifted through them. After a brief moment of searching, I found what I was looking for, and produced a small, folded piece of parchment from my left pocket, slightly dampened by the weather.

"Here," I replied with a loud voice, handing over the small piece of parchment. "General McGregor contacted me. I'm supposed to go meet with him." The young soldier gently took the small note and quickly began unfolded it, attempting to use his body as a shield to protect it from the rain as he did so. I watched his eyes dart from side to side as he scanned the note, before they widened slightly, and he looked back up at me.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't realize," he replied apologetically, although his tone was anything but surprised. He gave a slight nod as he handed the note back to me, which I casually stuffed back in my pocket. "I'll take you to see the General right away," he offered, turning around and heading for the gate, brandishing a small iron key.

"There been many mercs showing up around here lately?" I asked the Legionnaire, trailing closely behind him as he worked his key into the lock on the gate. "I've been hearing rumours that the Legion's been hiring, trying to get some bandit situation under control." I leaned forward slightly, trying to get a decent look at the man's expression. "You heard anything about it?"

The guard calmly finished with the gate, before turning to face me with a practiced neutral expression. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm really not at liberty to say," he explained, before gesturing at the now unlocked gate. "If you'll follow me, though, I'll take you to see the General, and he'll be able to answer your questions." Not really a surprising response, I supposed; a low ranking grunt like him probably knew about as much about the situation as me, maybe even less. And with that, he began through the gate, another guard from the other side taking up position to replace his comrade. I followed behind the first Legionnaire, along the cobbled stone pathway towards the rear buildings, avoiding the grassy, waterlogged earth to the side.

The Imperial City Prison wasn't an overly large space; more or less a large, circular wall with buildings placed at the edges, and a single tower dominating its centre. As such, it didn't take the Legionnaire long to lead me to one of the rearmost buildings, one large cube shaped structure in a lineage of many. He took the liberty of opening the heavy wooden door for me, its metal hinges squeaking as it swung inwards. I stepped inside, and listened to the guard follow me in.

The General's office was cozy, if you could use that word. Most of the ancient stone architecture one expected to see in a building such as this had been covered up with dark, polished wood panelling. The massive office before me was well furbished, with two massive wooden bookshelves on the left side of the room, separated in the middle of the wall to allow room for the only window to the outside compound. A small fireplace decorated the right wall, projecting what little illumination there was in the dark room. I could barely make out a single man hunched over at a large, wooden desk at the back of the room, not bothering to look up from his paperwork as we entered.

"General?" the Legionnaire began as we ventured closer. "There's a Miss Felicity Carhart here to see you, sir," he explained. I glanced over my shoulder at the young soldier, and noted that his eyes were slightly wider than before, his entire face displaying a hint of nervousness.

The man at the desk looked up from his documents, and placed his quill to the side of his desk. "Yes, thank you, Trooper," he replied, his voice deep and gruff, but not unkind. He waved a single hand at the man, as if brushing away a bit of unwanted lint. "You're dismissed."

"Thank you, sir," the Trooper said, snapping a crisp salute at the General. He promptly turned on one heel and marched briskly out of the office, shutting the door behind him. The sound of the weather outside was noticeably dampened now, the heavy stone of the walls and ceiling effectively muffling the majority of the sound. I kept my gaze fixed on the General as he seemed to look me up and down, scrutinizing me; as I couldn't see him that well, I wasn't afforded the same luxury.

"Well, sit down, Miss Carhart," the man finally offered, gesturing at a single chair on the opposite side of his desk. "We should get down to business, don't you think?"

I gave a slight shrug as I strode across the room, the heat from the fireplace causing my wet clothes to feel sticky against my skin underneath. "Yeah, I guess so," I replied, my tone casual and unassuming. After all, I wasn't part of the Legion, and so the man's rank of General didn't really apply to me. Not to say that I was going to go out of my way to disrespect the man, but I certainly didn't feel the need to stand on formality for him. As I neared the desk, I glanced at my jacket, moisture still dripping from the sleeve. "Sorry about the water," I explained, before taking a seat opposite the General.

"Can't be helped," was the aging Imperial's only response, along with a slight shrug. It was only from this close that I really got a good look at the man; he sported a large, chiselled jaw, with a head of dark brown hair, a few streaks of grey betraying his true age. From underneath his black cotton uniform, I could make out his wide, muscular shoulders, and the fact that he had managed to keep himself in a state of considerable fitness. He glanced at the window at the left side of the room with his dark green eyes. "Damned weather. Makes my joints ache."

I simply pursed my lips as I leaned back in my seat, feeling my damp clothing adhering to every square centimetre of my skin it could touch. "So what's this about, General?" I asked, folding my arms over my chest. "The Captain you sent with your note wasn't exactly forthcoming with the details."

General McGregor glanced to the side as he reached into his desk, and quickly retrieved a bottle of whiskey, a thin layer of dust covering the bottle. "I believe that we have a situation on our hands, Miss Carhart," the elderly officer explained, before grabbing a pair of small stone cups from the edge of his desk. "I'm not sure what you've been told, but there have been a number of...incidents, across the province."

"Incidents?" I asked, tilting my head slightly to the side. The General gestured at me with one of the stone cups, offering me a drink, and I gave a barely distinguishable nod as I leaned forward in my seat. "Care to be a little less vague?"

"Alright, then," McGregor replied as he filled the two cups with several centimetres of liquor each. "There have been reports of robberies, kidnappings and murders in several different cities the past few months," he explained simply as he handed me one of the small cups. "Even Supreme Chancellor Ocato's daughter has gone missing. And it has only gotten worse the last few weeks."

I paused briefly, before reaching out and grabbing the whiskey off the desk. "I'll give you credit," I began, before taking a slight swig from the cup. A noticeable burning sensation made its way from my throat and into my chest as the alcohol worked its way down. "You've managed to keep the whole thing pretty tightly under wrap. Normally can't keep news like that a secret very long," I said, before quickly slamming back the rest of the whiskey and placing the cup on the desk. "But why do I get the feeling it's even worse than all that?"

The General gave a brief chuckle, before quickly downing his own drink. "All the raids seem to have focused on specific items, and specific people. There's some kind of pattern behind the whole thing," he explained sourly. "We believe that there's some kind of organizing element at work here." McGregor glared at me with a look of steel, his gaze deadly serious. "And bandit scum just isn't that smart."

"So just what did you have in mind, exactly?" I asked, trying to determine just what it was I was being hired to do.

"I'm glad you asked," McGregor replied, nodding. "We've been hiring mercenaries to help us and the county guards with fighting off these bastards. I want you to head to Anvil, help the local boys clean house, and if possible, find out just what the hell is going on."

"Fair enough," I replied, before placing my hands against the desk in front of me, making direct eye contact with the Legion officer as I leaned forward. "Now, about my money..."

"Very well, then," McGregor responded smugly, grinning as he leaned back in his seat, clasping his hands together. "How does fifteen hundred Septims sound?"

I had to admit, that much gold sounded pretty good. From what I'd heard from other mercenaries I'd worked with, it was a fair deal more than what the Fighter's Guild typically paid their members, and I'd be getting help from the Anvil City Guard to boot. Still, though, I had a feeling that McGregor could go higher than that. "Like about a thousand Septims too little," I replied, smiling slightly.

"Alright, two thousand Septims," McGregor offered, leaning forward again. "I think you'll find that is a most generous offer."

I gave a short huff of amusemant, before offering a single hand to the General, which he took in his own larger one and shook briskly. "Deal," I replied, nodding. I released the General's hand, and got up from my seat. "I'll get headed for Anvil right away, General."

McGregor nodded in approval, standing up from his seat. "I've heard some good things about you, Miss Carhart," he pointed out, before crossing his arms over his chest. "I'll be expecting results."

I turned around, and casually made my way towards the door, a satisfied grin playing across my face. "Just make sure you've got my money when I get back, alright?" I replied, before opening the thick wooden door, leaving the stifling confines of the office and gladly returning to the relaxing rainstorm outside.

Hey, don't worry about the small amount of feedback, Nova. This is story is awesome, my personal favorite.

You know when you were doing your Nathan story I was usually to busy laughing to notice how well you write. Yet this story really shows how adept you actually are at it.

I call him 'The Pro' for a reason.

Wow, thanks guys. I really appreciate such great feedback, and I'm also quite pleased to hear that people are enjoying reading the story.

Anyways, here's Chapter 3.

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Chapter 3

By the time I'd worked my way through the Imperial City a second time, leisurely making my way back to the stables outside the Talos Plaza, the rain had finally stopped, much to the relief of several citizens who had promptly returned outside afterwards. I'd retrieved Clover and thanked the stable hand, who'd taken refuge from the rain inside a small shack, without incident, before setting off on my way towards Anvil, on a road that would take me past Skingrad and Kvatch.

By the time the early evening made its presence known, I was well underway on my long trip along the Gold Road, my plan to rest up in Skingrad for the night before making my way to Anvil in the morning. Although the rainclouds from earlier had yet to dissipate fully, magnificent lances of crimson light filtered through empty patches of darkening sky, bathing parts of the land before me in an elegant red aura.

I hummed contently to myself as I felt Clover bob up and down briskly beneath me, maintaining a good pace as we neared County Skingrad. The dense foliage that had surrounded me for some time along my trip began to give way, only to be replaced by fields of thickly packed shrubs that marked either side of the road. In the distance, I could make out the fortified walls of Skingrad, and spurred Clover on faster towards the city.

Within minutes I found myself just outside the city gates, with five of the local guards standing at the base of the massive doors. I could only assume that this city too had been plagued by the attacks I'd heard about, and they had decided to fortify their defences. I guided Clover into the local stable, her bright white hair easily distinguishing her from the muddy brown creatures that seemed to otherwise dominate the small holding area. She and the other horses seemed to ignore one another as I headed to the enormous doors of the city.

As I approached, I noticed one of the guards staring at me, before turning to his fellows and nodding. The others returned the gesture, and he slowly strode towards me, his arms swinging freely at his sides. "Evening, ma'am," he greeted, his tone noticeably warm and hospitable. He gave me a slight smile, his darkly tanned features slightly hard to make out in the failing daylight. "May I ask what your business is in Skingrad this evening?"

"I'm making my way to Anvil," I replied, keeping my hands purposely at my sides; if they were looking for bandits and the like, the last thing I wanted to do was give them a reason to be uneasy. "I was hoping to get a room for the night, before getting back on the road," I explained calmly, shifting my stance slightly as I spoke.

The guard cocked his head to the side for a moment and furrowed his brow, as if deciding whether or not he believed my story. Finally, he gave me a curt nod, before turning to the other guards. "Alright, let her in," he told them, before escorting me to the gate. "You'll have to forgive the scrutiny, ma'am," he apologized as the gates slowly cracked open. "But we've been having some trouble with raiders lately, and the last thing we need is to let them just walk right into the city."

"It's alright," I mumbled back, waving my hand dismissively as I neared the now open doors. "After all, it's your job, right?" The guard stopped just before the gaping hole in the city's defences, and I in turn stopped just before him as he turned to face me. I felt the eyes of the other guards fix in on the two of us as we faced each other.

"It's weird, though," the guard explained, idly scratching at the back of his neck, where the gap between his helmet and cuirass formed. "Just last week, somebody broke into the Mage's Guild, and killed one of their members while they were asleep. Poor bastard never got a chance to defend himself." The man crossed his arms firmly over his chest. "But what gets me is that they only stole one specific item from the whole building." He glanced at one of his fellow guards, his expression forgetful. "What was that thing again?"

"A welkynd stone, sir," another of the guards piped in, leaning easily against the stone wall behind him, arms crossed. "One of them Elf stones. You know, the ones in those ruins you find all over the place?"

"Right," the first guard replied gratefully, before turning his attention back to me. "A welkynd stone. That's all whoever it was stole, before taking off outta the city. Staves, soulgems, everything else just got left there." He gave a slight shrug, not understanding. "Like the guy never even saw 'em."

"Huh, that is weird," I replied, stuffing my hands into my pockets. I was no expert on the subject, but from what I understood, welkynd stones weren't terribly valuable. At least, not so much so that somebody broke into a Mage's Guild branch just to steal one, and leaving everything else behind. Surely, whoever it was that had taken it could have gotten more for the staves and soulgems, or found gold equalling at least as much as the stone was worth inside. Why bother? "Maybe whoever it was thought they were gonna get caught," I suggested with a slight shrug.

"Maybe," the guard replied, unconvinced. "But, I figure I've kept you long enough, ma'am. It's getting late, after all." The man gave me a respectful nod, which I returned in kind. "Sleep well."

"Thanks," I replied simply before heading through the gates and into the city. The beams of light forcing their way through the clouds above were getting dimmer by the second, and the people of Skingrad were quick in their reply. People began lighting lanterns outside their houses and shops on the narrow streets to either side of me, and at the end of the long, low street ahead, I could make out a faint light errantly drifting across a small bridge. I turned to my left and made my way towards what seemed to be an inn, as the sound of the city gate being shut behind me made its way to my ears.

As I neared the West Weald Inn, the muffled laughter of the establishment's patrons made its way through the door, and I sighed slightly, shaking my head. I felt like having a quiet drink at the counter, and I wasn't sure if I was in the mood to endure the inane banter and hollering of the plastered locals inside. I played with the thought of looking for another inn somewhere in the city, but I figured any other place would probably be just as bad, and so I opened the door and headed inside.

A considerable smattering of different races filled the inn, sitting around small wooden tables, banging their glasses together as they shouted and cheered merrily. Candles and a fireplace near the back gave the place a warm, friendly atmosphere, and I supposed I could understand why the locals gathered here. I noticed thankfully that the counter at the end of the room was vacant, and made my way over, nodding slightly at the young female Khajiit that stood behind it as I sat down.

"Greetings, Imperial," the cat-woman greeted warmly, a smile spreading easily across her furry face. It always amazed me how despite being referred to as 'cats', Khajiit eyes had always seemed more Human than anything. The woman's bright-tan fur was given a slight red hue as the firelight played across her features, and she placed her hands on the counter before her. "Perhaps we can get you something?" she asked curiously, her ears perking up slightly.

I couldn't help but smile at the woman's odd, third-person speech and animalistic gestures, before casually folding my arms on the counter, leaning forward. "I'll have a brandy, if you have it," I replied, the smile still on my face. The Khajiit nodded happily, before retrieving a single bottle from underneath the counter and placing it in front of me. I gave a grateful nod as I unfolded my arms, grasping the bottle with one hand and placing my payment on the counter.

Within seconds of the interaction, as I began to work open the bottle of brandy, I heard the door at the back of the inn open up, and a series of slow, heavy footsteps gradually make their way to the counter, right behind me. I could tell that there were people right next to me, and I swivelled around on my barstool to see what the problem was.

A large Nord, with greasy looking blonde hair and a massive smirk on his face, towered over me, his arms crossed over his large, muscular chest. He gave a slight nod to his two fellows, a slightly smaller Redguard man with short, blue-black hair that shone in the firelight, and a surprisingly large Breton, his dark brown hair dangling loosely at his ears. The three of them looked down at me, amused looks on their faces.

I arched a single eyebrow at the three men, irritated by their presence. "Can I help you?" I asked sourly, the sounds of the other patrons not having changed since these newcomers came in. I could only imagine that they too were regulars here.

The Nord simply chuckled to himself, before leaning down, closer to my face, smiling so that many of his front teeth were showing; the man's breath smelt like a gutted Goblin. "Can't say I remember seeing you here before," he explained smugly. "What's your name, sweetcheeks?"

Sweetcheeks? I'd barely known this idiot for half a minute, and already he was getting on my nerves. "Don't think it really matters, does it?" I asked back in reply, taking a swig of my brandy as I kept eye contact with the repulsive Nord. His grin simply widened in reply.

"Bernard!" the Khajiit bartender exclaimed behind me with an agitated voice. "We want no trouble here tonight! This one-"

The Nord simply shrugged, putting on a mock-innocent face. "Hey, I'm just talking to her," he replied calmly. "No harm in that, is there?" I heard an angry huff come from behind the counter, before the Nord turned his attention back to me. "So, what brings you to Skingrad anyway, sweetheart?" he asked.

"A job," I replied simply, before taking another swig from my drink, the alcohol's burning sensation only adding to that created by my frustration over these pigs. The bastards looked greasy to me, and I wasn't about to turn my back to them, public place or no, so I kept my back to the counter, and remained facing them.

"Oh yeah?" the Redguard asked, barely managing to keep himself from laughing as he looked over at the Breton. "And just what kind of job we talking about here?" he asked, a massive smile on his face. The Breton simply snickered to himself.

"The violent kind," I snapped back angrily without thinking, growing ever more irritated with these lowlifes and their comments. Out of all the women in the bar, why did they have to start talking to me?

"That's too bad," the Nord pointed out, standing up to his full height and running his eyes up and down my form. "With a body like that, I can think of plenty of ways you could make some damn good money, without even having to lift one of those pretty little fingers of yours," he remarked, a lustful sneer growing on his face. I could feel the anger welling up in my chest as I released my grip on the bottle of brandy, before crossing my arms over my chest, glaring angrily at the trio.

"In fact, I've got a great idea," the Nord bragged quietly, leaning in even closer to me this time. "Why don't the four of us grab a room upstairs, and my buddies and I will show you just how easy it is." As my glare stayed focused on the Nord's smiling face just inches from mine, I felt his hand brace against my hip, and he slowly began working his fingers up and into my pants. "Don't worry, we'll have a great time..."

That's when I lost it, the anger that had been building up inside me bursting forth. I angrily brought my head back before thrusting it forward, slamming my forehead into the Nord's nose and breaking it, sending the man recoiling backwards, grasping at his face. With the Redguard and Breton surprised, I quickly caught the Redguard in the groin with my heavy leather boot, causing him to cry out in pain, before slamming my other foot into the Breton's stomach, forcing him back. I jumped off my seat and quickly unsheathed my dai-katana, holding the long, curved blade in both hands.

All the noise in the bar had abruptly stopped, all eyes on me.

"I've got a better idea," I growled to the Nord, who was spilling blood from his broken nose onto the wooden floor beneath him. "Why don't the three of you get the hell out of here, before I show you what happens when I really get pissed off." I tightly gripped the weapon's handle as the three men grouped together, each of them clearly in pain. "Because you morons are either leaving here now, or later and with a few missing fingers to boot." I narrowed my eyes slightly. "Your choice."

"Crazy [censored]!" the Nord hollered frantically, still clutching at his nose. He gestured at the other two men, and together the three of them shuffled out of the inn, their proverbial tails between their legs. Even as they left, the eyes of the other patrons remained fixed on me, none of them moving.

I replaced my weapon to its rightful place on my back, before turning around and facing the Khajiit behind the counter. She too looked at me with a look of surprise, and all I could manage in response was a slight shrug. "Sorry about that," I told her. "Didn't mean to cause a scene."

After a moment of simply staring at me, the Khajiit regained her composure, and shook her head. "Don't be," she replied simply. "Those three, constantly coming in here, making trouble for this one, pestering the women who come here to drink and relax." She grinned slightly, showing off her sharpened teeth. "Perhaps next time, those three will think twice?"

"Maybe," I said back, the usual banter of the inn beginning to regain its momentum already. "By the way, I hate to ask, but is there any chance I could rent a room here?" I asked, unsure. After the little spectacle, I wasn't sure if the woman would want me staying in her establishment, despite her earlier assurances. I absently shoved my hands into my pockets as I awaited her reply.

"Yes, of course!" the Khajiit replied happily, nodding her head. "Eighty, no, fifty Septims for the night. A special discount for our new friend, the Imperial, for ridding this one of the bad men."

I nodded in approval before fishing out the money, and placing it into the furry, outstretched hand of the woman. She in turn retrieved the key for the vacant room, and handed it to me. "Up the stairs, first one on the right," she explained. "This one wishes you pleasant dreams."

I headed up the hardwood stairs, the sound of the people laughing below dying out as I made my way to the room. I elected that as soon as I got up in the morning, I'd head straight for Anvil, not wanting to waste any time getting this job done. I unlocked the door to the room and made my way inside, being sure to lock the thing behind me, and headed straight for the bed in the corner, its crimson sheets gleaming in the moonlight that shone through the window next to it.

The room was fairly well furnished, with a large rug and wooden furniture decorating the space. I didn't pay it much mind, however, as I removed my blade from my back, carefully placed it on the nightstand, and collapsed forward onto the bed. The sheets were remarkably plush, I noticed, as I shut my eyes, and let the tension of what had just happened downstairs disappear from my thoughts.

Your writing is amazing Nova. The storylines addictive and very entriuging(did i spell that right?) Its a real inspiration to other fanfic writers!!

Thanks for the compliment, Dust.

Here's Chpater 4, by the way.

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Chapter 4

When I awoke the next morning, I wasted no time getting ready for my trek to Anvil. With the soft morning sunlight streaming through the window into the room, I quickly replaced my weapon on my back, ensuring it was firmly in place. I also ensured that my hair was at the very least presentable, checking that the long white ribbon that ever held my ponytail in place was properly adjusted. After a few moments, I was ready to go, but took a brief moment to admire the early day's light that played through the room, before heading out of the inn.

I quickly made my through the small section of Skingrad between the inn and the massive city gates, noting that the men outside were a new group than those who'd greeted me the night before. With my view of it now unobstructed by the daunting city walls, I could see the early morning sky was a beautiful hue of violet, just a few shades away from being a bright, lively pink. I recovered Clover, who seemed elated to see me, from the stables near the entrance, and without any further hesitation, made my way back onto the Gold Road, beginning anew my journey West to Anvil.

The scenery between the two counties was always breathtaking, and that alone made the voyage worthwhile in my eyes. Vast expanses of thick, green foliage marked the landscape, and long abandoned ruins along the road, overrun with moss and lichen, lent itself to a feeling of antiquity in the region. It seemed as though in no time at all, I was looking at the proud, high standing city of Kvatch, one of the province's most prosperous counties since its reconstruction. It was then a matter of only a few hours until I arrived at Anvil.

I neared the city's massive, wooden doors, outlined with an elegant stone frame. The vegetation around me took on a golden colouring as I neared the passage, noting before me two Anvil city guards. As Clover and I slowly approached the men, one of them, apparently the more alert of the two, prodded at his comrade, rousing his attention. The second man looked up at me, and his hand slowly moved to the hilt of his silver longsword as he approached me. I stopped my own advance on the man as I carefully dismounted from Clover's back, but didn't yet reach for my own blade.

"Whad'ya want, stranger?" the man, a middle aged Imperial with short, untidy stubble and a dark tan asked me with a gravelly voice, still approaching, hand still hovering next to his blade. Staying at his post next to the gate, his partner simply eyed me up, and I was quite aware of the fact that he had a longbow at his disposal.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" was all I asked the guard with a calm, sceptical tone, crossing my arms defiantly over my chest as I nodded at his longsword. "You start pulling out your weapons for everybody who passes by? Or are you giving me special treatment?"

"What I'm doin' is my job, missy," the guard growled back in reply, his hand never moving more than a centimetre from its fixed position near his weapon. "The Captain told us to stop any funny lookin' characters that happened to be jus' wanderin' around." He narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked me up and down. "And honey, you may got a pretty face on ya, but you look plenty funny to me."

By the Divines, was I going to have to put up with this from everybody I met on this assignment? "Listen up, [censored]," I growled in reply, pointing an accusative finger in the guard's direction. "I've been hired by the Legion to help you slobs clean up around here. So tell me where to find your Captain, and then get the hell outta my way."

The Imperial simply sneered in reply, revealing just how grotesque and bestial his features were. "I dunno, you don't look like no mercenary to me," he replied, before gesturing back to his partner. "Whad'ya say, Orland? Maybe we should search her, and make sure she ain't stealin' nothin'." The other guard near the gate simply chuckled in response.

Damn, I cursed in my mind, readying myself to reach for my dai-katana. It seemed to me like these guards were intent on causing me trouble, and while I didn't want to start a fight with the people I was supposedly here to help, it didn't seem like they were leaving me much of a choice. The guard closest to me slowly stepped forward, and my hand moved towards the handle of my blade.

"Maybe you boys should just let the young lady through?" came a new voice from behind me, a hint of amusemant in its distinctly youthful tone. I looked behind me as another Imperial, roughly my age and perhaps a bit older, quickly rode up to us atop a black haired horse. The man's bright blue eyes lit up as he dismounted from his steed, a large smile of amusemant playing across his youthful face. "Looks like she might mess you guys up, if you keep pushing her." The young man wore a short sleeved, dark crimson shirt, as well as a pair of black fabric pants. His boots were steel, matching the pauldrons he wore on his shoulders, and he wore his straight, jet black hair down to the swell in his back, a few loose strands dangling in his face.

"And just who the hell are you supposed to be, sonny?" the guard asked angrily, glaring at both me and the newcomer with intent scepticism as his hand found its way to his blade, although he didn't yet draw it.

"Somebody you don't want to mess with, friend," the newcomer replied, still smiling. He fished into the pocket of his pants, and pulled out a few loose Septims, before tossing them idly at the guard. "Here, why don't you and Rumsy back there grab a drink?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

The guard seemed like he was about to counter with some off-hand remark, before looking between the two of us, side-by-side, and gave a huff of defeat. "Captain's at the barracks, near the castle," he finally grumbled, turning back for his position at the gate. "Do whatever the hell ya want."

I gave a sigh of relief as I let my hand fall from my blade, and turned to the black-haired Imperial, who grinned mischievously at me. "Guards. They aren't so tough when they don't outnumber you, huh?" he commented, humour in his voice. He turned to his mount, who seemed to be trading bouts of smelling with Clover, and retrieved a long, metallic claymore, although the material wasn't immediately obvious; it bore a bright metallic sheen like silver, yet it seemed different somehow.

"Thanks for the help," I replied appreciatively, before guiding Clover to the nearby stables, the Imperial doing the same with his mount behind me. "People just seem to be picking fights with me lately. I was worried it might get ugly."

"I'll bet," the man replied casually, guiding his mount to the end of the stable opposite the gate. "But, I think you could've taken them, if they'd tried anything," he pointed out, before approaching me and extending a single hand. "By the way, I don't think we've been introduced yet. The name's Fenix Aquila."

I gave Fenix a slight smile in return, before taking his hand in mine. "Felicity Carhart," I replied, shaking his hand briskly. "So tell me, Fenix, what brings you here to Anvil?"

Fenix released my hand, and the two of us headed out of the stables. "From what I can tell, I'm here for the same reason as you, Felicity," he explained, closing the wooden gate behind him. "Got hired to come down here and take out some bandits, which suits me just fine."

"Oh," I began, slightly surprised. "I mean, I didn't know the Legion was sending more than one mercenary down here." I purposely kept my gaze away from Fenix as we walked, circling around the massive stone wall of Anvil, heading for the castle near the city's docks. Was the situation really so bad that the Legion was sending more than one mercenary to each town? Did the local guards really need that much help? Or maybe McGregor thought I couldn't do it by myself?

"Yeah, I didn't know about that myself until I heard you talking to our charming friends back there," Fenix explained, although he was still out of my line of vision. "Ah, well. The way that I see it, we all still get paid, and we get to mingle with our peers. So it's a win-win, as far as I'm concerned." There was a slight pause after this last statement. "You feeling okay?" he asked me, and suddenly I looked over at him. He was watching me with a curious look on his face, a single eyebrow arched in uncertainty.

"What?" I asked, somewhat surprised as Fenix's question ripped me from my own thoughts, and back into reality. "Oh, sorry. Yeah, I'm fine," I explained, waving my hand dismissively. "I was just thinking, that's all." My gaze quickly found its way back to the ground, to the amber hued shrubs that the two of us proceeded to trample with our boots as we walked.

"Well alright, then," he replied, and he sounded relieved. "For a minute there, I was worried that you were purposely trying to avoid looking at me," he went on, his tone slightly dejected.

"What?" I asked a second time, my head darting back up to look at him. He seemed like a nice enough guy, and I certainly didn't want to alienate somebody I was going to working with if I could avoid it. "No, I-" But I cut my explanation short when I saw his amused, toothy grin; the stupid guy had been toying with me. I simply gave a slight chuckle, which he returned in kind, as the two of us made our way into the Anvil castle courtyard.

Assembled before the castle were a considerable number of city guards, each of them checking their chainmail cuirass and their silver longswords. One in particular, a rather well-toned Redguard without a helmet stood with his back to us, addressing a large Nord, which towered over the guard.

"Like I've been trying to tell you, Hukral," the Redguard began, his tone lined with irritation. "We can't go until the other mercenaries show up. The Legion said that they were sending three altogether-"

"And I keep telling you that I don't need them," the huge Nord growled back, narrowing his eyes as his greasy blonde hair fell from his head in clumped strands. The man's armour was Orcish, and the handle of a massive warhammer jutted from behind his back. "I'll finish this job myself, and take their pay while I'm at it."

"I don't think that will be necessary," Fenix piped in confidently, causing the attention of the guards and the Nord to suddenly shift over to the two of us. "Sorry we're late," he added to the Redguard, presumably the Captain, with a shrug. "Two of your men were giving us a hard time, and they held us up a bit."

The Redguard shook his head miserably, immediately recognizing who it was we spoke of. "I'm gonna wring both those morons' necks," he growled to himself, before giving the two of us a slight nod. "I'm guessing you're Felicity Carhart and Fenix Aquila? I'm Ezekiel Ross, Captain of the Anvil city guard," he introduced, before turning to the Nord. "And this-"

The hulking behemoth of a Nord stormed up to the two of us, stopping about half a foot away from us. At six feet, Fenix was about three inches taller than I was. But this Nord must've been close to seven feet tall. Both Fenix and I craned our necks up to see eye to eye with the man, as he growled disapprovingly at us. "You've got alot of gall, making Hukral Bone-Crusher wait," the Nord snarled.

Although I went out of my way not to show it on my face, the name Hukral Bone-Crusher was already familiar to me. The Ice-Man. I was just glad that Fenix and the Anvil guards were nearby.

"Like I said, we were a little held up," Fenix explained to the huge Nord, who's brown eyes seemed to shrink to mere dots, giving the man a horrific appearance as he glared at us with the whites of his eyes dominating his features. "No need to get upset, though, we're here now," Fenix went on, his tone casual and relaxed, despite the Nord's stature. The beast's eyes simply darted between the two of us, probably mere ants from his perspective, before heading back towards the group of guards.

"Right," Captain Ross muttered as Hukral moved away from the two of us. "Like I already told him, we think we've tracked down the raider group in the local area," he explained. "They're holed up in some old ruin called Crowhaven. Apparently it was the home of some vampire, whose son was the Arena Grand Champion back during the Crisis."

"How far is it from here?" I asked curiously, crossing my arms over my chest. I'd spent enough time travelling, and appreciating the scenery; it was time to get to work.

"It's not far from here," Ross explained, gesturing to the north-west with his hand. "But we did some initial recon work, and my men tell me they've got lookouts crawling all over the outside. So that rules out going in on horses." The Captain shook his head. "They'd spot us in a second."

"Great," Fenix mumbled to himself, looking out into space as he thought hard on the issue. "Maybe if we wait until dark, then-"

"No!" Hukral roared angrily, storming back towards me, Fenix and Captain Ross. The manner in which the creature moved towards us was such that I had to fight off the urge to pull out my blade and cut him down right there. "No more stalling! No more delays!" the Nord hollered, lowering his face towards Fenix's. "If you're going to do this job, leave your cowardice behind you, weakling," he taunted, his eyes bulging abnormally wide.

"Enough, Hukral," the Captain growled before either I or Fenix had a chance to reply. The Redguard seemed genuinely out of patience with the psychotic Nord. "This is my job, so you'd better listen the hell up, and stand down." The Nord glared at the Captain for a moment, before mumbling something under his breath and walking off.

"If we go by foot, it shouldn't take us more than an hour and a half," Ross explained to the two of us, disregarding the Nord. "And the plant cover should keep us from being spotted. Besides, I don't want to risk anymore attacks before tonight." Eager to get the mission started, and feeling that we were more than a match for whatever was in those old ruins, I nodded curtly in approval. Fenix seemed reasonably swayed by Ross' argument as well, as he gave an apathetic shrug as his acknowledgement.

Ross nodded, before turning to his men. "Alright, guys, let's head on out!" he cried out, before heading through the gates leading out of the courtyard, followed closely by his men. Hukral too was quick to head out, glaring at Fenix and I as he left.

"You know, I think I'm gonna be glad when this job is over," Fenix told me, starting through the gates. "Already I never want to have to see that psycho again."

"Yeah," I replied, my sentiments towards the Nord in line with Fenix's. I made my way through the gate, following the others eagerly to Crowhaven.

And little did I realize that Fenix would have his wish. After this mission...he really would never see Hukral again.

Wow another great chapter! I'm looking forward to the next one as that last line was one of those really gripping cliffhangers! LOL!

Oh no! Kerrigan will kill Fenix! :ahhh:


:facepalm:



Great chapter. I liked the part with the guards at the gate. Though they could have been a little more menacing.

Thanks for the support guys. And as for the guards, ?ber, I played with the idea of making them a bit more menacing, but decided after the bar brawl in Chapter 3 that it might get a bit tedious, you know?

Speaking of Chapters, here's number five.

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Chapter 5

It was only a few hours after our departure from Anvil, and the group was making good progress towards Crowhaven to the northwest. We purposefully made our way through the shrubbery of the region, with Hukral near the head of the group with Captain Ross, while Fenix and I took up the rear. About seven Anvil guards filled the gap between front and back, and I was grateful; I didn't want Hukral hearing Fenix and I discussing him.

"So, you've met this guy before, Felicity?" Fenix asked curiously, walking casually by my side with his gaze focused on the man. "What'd you call him? Ice-Man?" He turned back towards me, one of his eyebrows arched in curiosity as he spoke. "What the hell's that all about?"

I held up a single hand as I shook my head. "No, I've never met him, but I know him by reputation," I replied quietly, still secretly fearing that Hukral would overhear us. "Hukral the Ice-Man Bone-Crusher. He's known for using a warhammer with a particularly nasty frost enchantment on it." I gave a slight shrug. "That, and for being a remorseless son of a [censored]."

"Charming," Fenix mumbled back, crossing his arms over his chest. "And it's just our luck that we get stuck with him, huh?"

"I figure as long as we stay out of his way, we shouldn't run into any problems," I told Fenix. "We let him go off and play berserker, and get the job done."

"Works for me," Fenix chuckled, a grin playing over his face. "It's been awhile since I've been on a good old fashioned bandit hunt."

I nodded in approval as the group ahead of us began to take up position behind a large rock, and in the distance I could make out the crumbling remains of an old ruin. Assuming it was Crowhaven, I took up position with the others, crouching behind the rock with Fenix keeping place beside me, as the entire group faced Captain Ross.

"Alright, boys and girls, this is it," Ross explained, gesturing in the general direction of the fort with his thumb. "Crowhaven. From what we know, there's a fair number of the bastards holed up in there, but I figure if we take them by surprise, we should be able to-" Ross was cut off by a disapproving huff from Hukral, as he readied his enormous steel hammer. "Hukral, what are you doing?"

"I'm done sneaking around like some pitiful Elf," the massive Nord growled, gripping his weapon tightly with both hands. "I'm going in there, and you idiots had better not try and stop me." He slowly stood up and began to make his way from behind the large rock.

"Hold it, Hukral," Ross growled, jumping up from his stance and positioning himself in front of Hukral. "I don't know how you're used to doing things, but I'm not going to let you endanger my men with your stupidity. Understand?" The Redguard stood defiantly before the Nord, who was in reality much larger than he.

But Hukral seemed unimpressed, as he quickly threw his head forward, slamming his forehead into Ross'. The other guards began to get up as the Captain stumbled backwards, before Hukral caught him across the face with the back of his left hand, sending him sprawling onto the ground. "You and your rodents can hide all you want," was the Nord's only reply, before charging towards the ruins with his weapon in hand, the midday sun playing over his body as he ran.

"Hukral!" Ross roared, glaring angrily after the Nord after he ran. "Hukral!" But the Nord either didn't hear the man, or didn't care, as he kept up his charge towards the ruins.

"Let him go, Ross," Fenix explained, grasping the Captain's shoulder with a determined look on his face. "I'd just as soon have the lumbering idiot charge in and draw their fire anyways."

"Yeah," remarked a young Anvil guard, nodding in approval. The young man, an Imperial, removed his helmet and ran a hand backwards through his dark red hair. "Better him than us, if you ask me."

Ross shook his head dismally, cursing under his breath. "I don't much like the idea of somebody dying on this mission," the Captain muttered bitterly. "Ideally, I was hoping that we could get this done with zero casualties."

"I'd say it's about time to throw idealism out the window, Captain," I countered, looking at the Redguard intently. "There's no point in not using the opportunity now. The best chance for the rest of us to get this done is to attack now, while the bandits are focused on Hukral."

Ross was silent a moment, considering the recommendation, before finally giving a slight nod of approval. "Alright, then," he growled, unsheathing his silver longsword. The other guards in the group followed suit, and then Fenix and I drew our respective weapons. "Amandus and Alasdair, I want you moving up the right with Aquila and Carhart. Everybody else, with me up the left. Let's move!"

With that, Fenix and I, along with the red haired guard and a Breton, quickly began moving towards the right side of the ruins, while Ross and the others dashed up the left. I could feel my heart begin to pound violently in my chest as we neared the ruins, Ross and the other guards growing more distant the more we ran. I soon found myself at the top of a slight incline that led to a crumbling stone wall, with two bandits standing on the other side of the breach, on a platform overlooking the main entrance.

"Aw [censored] man, that Nord just killed Brennus!" shouted the first bandit, a Human, his back turned to us as he watched Hukral run amok below. He turned to his fellow, an Altmer from the looks of it, as the Elf clumsily tried to load his crossbow. "[censored] sakes man, just shoot him!"

"Shut up!" roared the Elf as Fenix, the two guards and I slowly worked our way through the breach, taking up positions behind them. "I'm trying, damn it!" With our own group ready, I turned to Fenix and gave a slight nod, one which he returned in kind. We turned to our respective targets, and struck.

I ran up to the Altmer's back, and quickly plunged my long dai-katana through his chest, roughly the area where his heart should be. The Elf dropped his crossbow, and his hands quickly raced to the length of my blade that protruded from the front of his chest. He let out a horrid, pained scream as he cut his hands in his desperate attempt to get a hold of the blade, before turning his head to look at me. "You gods damned [censored]!" he hollered, eyes wide with both anger and fear.

I gave an unimpressed huff as I brought up my foot and braced it against the Elf's back. Without any rebuttal to the Altmer's insult, I kicked the Elf forward, off the end of my blade and over the edge of the platform, to the ground below. The only confirmation I needed was the dull thud of the Altmer's body hitting the ground below me, before looking to my right and seeing Fenix strike down his opponent with his claymore, blood spraying across the platform and onto my leather boots as the bandit fell defeated to the ground.

I glanced down at my previously black boots, now coated in bandit blood. Somehow, I felt as though I'd been sullied by the vile liquid, considering its source. "Thanks alot," I grumbled to Fenix, although my tone was really more annoyed than angry.

"Couldn't be helped, I'm afraid," Fenix replied, his eyes fixed on the dead bandit before him. I looked up as I heard shouts and cries from the other bandits stationed outside, along with the battle cries of Hukral somewhere within the foliage on the ground of the fort. Within a few moments, though, a single voice could be made out much louder than the others.

"Fall back!" the voice screamed, somewhere below us, although I couldn't pinpoint where. "Fall back! Into the base!"

"[censored]," Fenix grumbled, walking up next to me and looking at the foliage below, bandits hollering and shouting to one another. "They're probably going to try and regroup in there. It's gonna make this job alot harder if they manage to get themselves fortified."

"Right," I replied, nodding as I looked for a way down to ground level. "We should try and hit them now, while they're still disorganized. Hopefully Ross and the others will find another way in, and force them to split up their forces."

"Say, where'd the Nord end up?" the Breton guard asked to Fenix's right, curious. "Did he get inside the ruins too?"

"Who cares?" asked the red haired guard, standing to the Breton's right. "Frankly, I wouldn't mind it if he was dead. I don't much like the idea of running into that lunatic inside the fort."

"Alright you two, just shut up," I told the two guards, spotting a nearby tree that we could use to climb down to ground level. "Just keep your minds on taking care of the bandits, will you? We'll worry about Hukral when and if the problem comes up." I made my way to the large tree, and nimbly scaled my way down, Fenix and the two guards following quickly behind me. It didn't take long after that for us to find a nearby chink in the fort's heavy stone walls, which the four of us used to gain entry into the ruins.

The dark, vacant halls of the old ruins stunk of dust and antiquity, the only noticeable remnants of whatever horrid creatures may have called the fort home in centuries past. The faint echoes of screaming bandits and yelling guards made their way through the stone corridors as the three men and I made our way through the halls of Crowhaven.

The sound of several men speaking to one another gradually grew louder in volume as the others and I moved down a narrow hallway, towards a well lit room at the end. I could make out a number of silhouettes moving about in the chamber, against the light of the fire within, and as we crept closer I could make out their dialogue.

"I think Jerald and the others have most of 'em held up in one of the other passages, but there might be more of them around!" shouted one of the men, his arms jutting out to the sides. "We should get the hell outta here before we're all killed!"

"Shut yer trap!" barked another of the men, drawing a longsword. I cursed myself for not being able to make out the species of the speakers, nor their equipment. "Take Ellis and go help Jerald and the others! Grogath, Shazar, you two come with me!"

Fenix gave me and the others a slight nod, and the four of us formed up on the opposite side of the door, hoping to bottleneck the bandits and cut off their exit. "Hold it!" the Imperial barked to the men, gripping his claymore tightly in his hands. "That's far enough! Drop your weapons!"

The room was small, with the bandits, five in total, standing on a ledge that overlooked a sub floor beneath it. The surprised bandits turned around, two Imperials, a Khajiit, an Orc and a Redguard facing our small group.

"Gods dammit!" one of the Imperials barked, glaring at us. His hand slowly moved towards his hip, and a small steel shortsword, but I levelled my dai-katana, and narrowed my eyes.

"Don't even think about it," I growled, wrapping my hands tightly around the hilt of my blade. The frantic cries of other combatants throughout the fort could still be faintly heard echoing through the halls. "Just drop it."

The Khajiit looked anxiously between his fellows, before he jerkily levelled his steel crossbow, getting ready to fire. The Breton guard off to Fenix's right managed to lash out and catch the cat in chest before he could fire, but the Redguard on the opposing side quickly countered by thrusting his longsword deep into the guard's chest.

And that's when all hell broke loose.

The man I'd threatened reached for his weapon in desperation, but I proved the quicker of the two of us and quickly cut the man down. The other Imperial, however, took this chance to rush at me, and grab the base of my blade with his own hands. The two of us fought for control of the weapon as the red haired guard knocked the Redguard to the floor, and the Orc readied a large battle axe to confront Fenix.

"Aw, hell," Fenix grumbled, before quickly sidestepping a feral swipe from the Orc's massive weapon. He lashed out with his claymore, catching the Orc in the side, but it didn't prove as effective as either of us would have hoped. The Orc simply let out a long, angry roar as it caught Fenix in the side of the head with an angry punch, sending the black haired Imperial stumbling to the side, and closer to the edge of the ledge overlooking the floor below.

"Sir!" the red haired guard cried out frantically, his longsword and that of the Redguard locked in a lethal embrace. "Just hang on, sir!" He continued to struggle with the bandit, but his every move was quickly countered.

I myself was also unable to aid Fenix, the bandit who had hold of my weapon proving at least as strong as I. "Fenix!" I cried out as he tried to regain his composure, the Orc readying his axe for an attack. "Look out!"

But, it was too late.

The Orc gave a beastial roar as he swung his enormous weapon with full strength, and caught Fenix square in the side with the bladed weapon. The Imperial gave out a cry of agony before the Orc straight legged him in the chest, sending him off the edge of the upper floor.

"Fenix!" I called out, hoping that the man would answer me. But I got no such response. As the Imperial and I struggled over who would retain control over my weapon, the Orc turned his attention to my last remaining comrade, who still fought feverishly with the Redguard. I already knew that there was no way he could match the two of them alone, and once they'd dispatched him, I was...

Yet another great chapter! I miss Felix already I thought there was a relationship developing between him and Felicity! LOL!

Chapter 6

The bandit's grasp on my weapon never relaxing for a moment, I was unable to break away from the struggle as the now unoccupied Orc turned his attention over to the red haired guard, who still fought tooth and nail with his Redguard foe. He feverishly tried to break away from the Redguard, to reposition himself so that he might defend himself from the duo more effectively. But before the opportunity was able to present itself, the massive beast of an Orc pulled back his axe, and with a wide, sweeping blow, caught the man dead centre in the chest. The guard let out a howl of agony as the axe wedged deep into his torso, before the Redguard ran his longsword through the guard's neck, silencing him forever.

As the bandit duo freed their weapons from the guard's fallen corpse, I felt a surge of adrenaline pump through my veins. My odds against those two by myself were bad, but if they caught me like this, when I didn't even have access to my weapon, I didn't have a prayer. As my heart began to race nervously in my chest, I brought my knee angrily into the groin of the Imperial who had hold of my sword, causing him to cry out in pain, and his grip on the weapon weakened. I delivered another quick strike into the man's genitals, and managed to force my blade from his grasp. As he recoiled back, I slashed wide across his stomach, causing him to scream out horribly as blood gushed from the wound in his gut.

The Orc and Redguard, now having recovered their weapons from my fallen ally's corpse, turned in my direction as the Imperial I'd wounded fell backwards onto the ground, his wails of agony gradually growing more silent. As the two warriors slowly advanced towards me, I found myself backing up towards one of the room's stone walls, my palms growing sweaty as I tightly held the hilt of my blade; making sure that they couldn't attack me from behind would probably better my chances against them, but not by much. The feral looking Orc grinned evilly at me, eyes narrowing as my gaze met with his; I could only imagine what he was thinking.

My concentration was abruptly broken, however, when I heard a long, beast like roar roil from the entrance to the room. Both the Orc and the Redguard turned to face the entrance as Hukral stormed in, pulling back his hammer as he rushed at them. The Orc began to raise his axe to counter the Nord's charge, but Hukral's hammer easily found its way to the beast's head before he could react. The Orc's entire upper body flared a bright blue as frost magic worked its way through his tissues, and his head jerked to an odd angle with a sickening crack. The beast's body seemed to go limp as it careened several feet, before hitting the floor with a dull thud.

By now, though, the Redguard had managed to turn about, and face his attacker, longsword raised before him. I could only assume that with Hukral's rather loud and surprising entrance, the man had forgotten about me, because at this point he was positioned with his side to me, readying his blade to strike out at Hukral. With an easy avenue of attack, I thrust my long, curved blade into the Redguard's side, just beneath the ribcage, and felt it slide through the stunned man's chest, only pausing briefly as it grazed against his ribs on the opposite side. The Redguard promptly dropped his longsword as the tip of my blade erupted from his armpit on the other side, and clutched uselessly at his chest as blood surged forth from his mouth. I quickly withdrew the blade, and let the Redguard drop to the floor, before I brought my blade back before me, turning to face Hukral; without Fenix and the others around me, I was unsure of what the Nord would do.

The Nord simply stood still for a moment, looking down at the Redguard, and then at the Imperial I'd attacked earlier, who'd already bled out on the stone floor of the ruins. The man gave a slight chuckle as he looked back up at me. "Looks like you aren't completely useless after all," the Nord commented, letting his hammer's head rest on the floor in front of him.

I eased the end of my blade down, letting it point towards the floor, but continued to grip it tightly with both hands. "What's your angle, Hukral?" I asked, narrowing my eyes slightly. After the man's unexpected attack on Captain Ross earlier, coupled with his odd behaviour, I wasn't sure what to make of his intentions.

Hukral stood still for a moment, eyeing me up, before giving a brief huff. "I'm looking for the leader of these idiots. One of the weaklings I killed back there said he was some kind of Dark Elf, if you can believe that." He quickly scanned the various corpses in the room, before giving me a confused look. "Say, where's that other Imperial? Don't tell me he up and died like some amateur."

The image of Fenix being hit in the side by the Orc's axe immediately flashed back into my mind, and my skin burned as though acid was coursing beneath it. After everything he'd done, where did he get the nerve!? "Shut up!" I roared at the Nord, lifting my blade back up, and glaring angrily at him. "Just shut the hell up! We wouldn't even be in this [censored] mess if it wasn't for y-"

I was quickly cut off as Hukral's face flared with anger, and he brought up an armoured fist, swatting the end of my blade to the side like an irritating fly, before quickly kicking me straight in the stomach. I doubled over in pain, wincing, as I felt the Nord wrench my weapon from my hands, before grabbing me by the throat and lifting me up off the ground.

"Don't blame me for your stinking incompetence, girl," he growled as my hands wrapped around his arm, trying to force him to let go. My feet uselessly struck his heavy Orcish armour, which he seemed to ignore. "I wasn't hired for this little mission to babysit you morons. If you all end up getting killed, you've got nobody to blame but yourselves." With relative ease, the massive mercenary tossed me across the room, and I landed on my back next to the corpse of the red haired guard, my spine smarting from the impact.

"I don't really much care what you do from this point," Hukral explained, hefting his warhammer as I looked up at him. "But if you get in my way, I'll kill you myself." With that, the Nord calmly turned around, and left the room through another doorway, without bothering to look back at me.

I cursed under my breath as my gaze fell to the floor. How had the job gotten this messed up? Were Captain Ross and his men having as much trouble as I'd been having? The enemies we'd been fighting seemed too well trained to be simple bandits. I cursed miserably under my breath again as I got to my feet, my stomach agitated with a queasy pain from Hukral's attack, before moving over to my blade on the floor and replacing it on my back.

I moved over to the edge of the platform where the Orc had attacked Fenix, and looked to the floor below. There, Fenix lay on his back, his arms and legs outstretched to his sides, his claymore off to the side. I looked at him for a moment before looking off to the side and letting out a long, exasperated sigh; I'd only known the man for a few hours, and yet somehow I felt a personal sense of failure at his death. Why? I couldn't understand why I felt this way.

"F-Felicity? You up there?" came a strained, quiet voice.

I gasped in surprise, my eyes bulging wide. The voice...it had sounded like Fenix's voice. But, he couldn't be alive, could he? I quickly looked back down to the black haired Imperial, and, sure enough, he was moving, albeit only slightly, looking up at me.

"Fenix!" I exclaimed, before easing my way down to the lower floor. The fall wasn't overly long, but the muscles in my legs still burned slightly as I hit the floor. I quickly rushed over to the fallen man, and gave him a look that mixed relief, concern and confusion. "But, how? I saw you get hit by that Orc!" I cried out.

Fenix gave me a slight grin, one that was equal parts amusemant and pain, before lifting up his crimson coloured shirt, tattered where the Orc had hit him. Beneath his shirt was a simple chainmail cuirass, warped and mangled where the axe had hit it, but still intact, and beneath that, a simple white undershirt. "This stuff looks like [censored] on the outside, don't you think?" he asked, still sporting the same grin.

Looks like [censored]? That's all he had to say to me!? "You stupid jerk! Why didn't you say something before!?" I roared, my hands balling tightly into fists as I glared at the man. "You had me worried sick about you!"

Fenix's grin seemed to grow wider at this comment. "Well, I don't normally make a point of telling people what I'm wearing underneath my clothes," he replied. "But, if it'll keep you from worrying about me, then I'll see what I can do."

My hands clenched more tightly, and could feel a number of my muscles tensing with irritation. Was all he was good for was making jokes? I was about to give him a piece of my mind when I noticed that his grin was still lined with pain, and I pushed my anger aside for the moment. "Are you going to be okay?" I asked, my tone considerably softer than it had been a moment ago.

Fenix looked down at the side where the Orc had hit him, and lifted his cuirass and undershirt to reveal a rather large, brownish purple bruise. "Well, that's gonna hurt like hell in the morning," he grumbled, shaking his head. "But, I reckon I'll live."

I gave an affirmative nod as I placed an arm around his back, and helped him up off the ground. "Alright, let's get you up and moving," I suggested as I felt his arm wrap securely around the back of my neck. I glanced to my left, at his face just inches from mine, and noticed that he seemed to be in more pain now that ever. "You sure you're okay?" I asked, concerned.

He used his free hand to wave dismissively as we moved towards his claymore, and I knelt down to retrieve it. "I'll be fine," he replied, though his tone was strained. Silently, I hoped he wasn't about to bleed out internally on me. I grasped the claymore in my right hand as the two of us gradually made our way out of the small room, and tried to find a way back to the upper level.

"I don't suppose either of the guards made it?" Fenix asked me as we shuffled slowly down a narrow hallway. "I know the first one got it pretty bad, but what about the other one?"

I shook my head, pursing my lips slightly. "No, neither one of them made it," I replied, slightly confused and disturbed at the fact I was so much more comfortable with their deaths then when I'd thought Fenix had died. But I pushed this thought aside. "In fact, I was almost a goner too, until Hukral showed up."

"Hukral?" Fenix asked as we found a narrow staircase leading back up, carved out of the wall to our right. "How'd that go?"

I was silent a moment as we made our way up the stairs. "Better than some bandit fights, worse than some bar brawls," I replied, somewhat at a loss for words on how to better describe the encounter.

"Well, at least you're still in one piece, right?" Fenix asked rhetorically. "That's gotta count for something, I figure."

We kept up our gradual pace through the halls of Crowhaven for another few minutes, blindly trying to work our way to an exit, to Ross and the others, something, when we heard a long, pained scream from further in the ruins. Both Fenix and I stopped dead in our tracks, and the same scream cried out again.

"What the hell was that?" Fenix asked, looking up ahead at the wide, hauntingly empty hallway before us.

"I don't know," was my only response, simple and unembellished. The scream had been too distant for me to properly make out who'd made it, or even where exactly it was coming from. "But it might be one of the others. We have to go check," I explained.

"Swell," Fenix grumbled as we continued down the hallway, in search of the scream's source. "I sure as hell hope that McGregor gives us some kind of bonus for all this."

Excellent stuff, as always. No lie, Fenix is probably my favorite character out of any fanfic I've ever read.

Wow, really? I'm really glad to hear that, Red; it's always nice when people form a connection with characters you've created.

Then, of course, it's the job of a writer to exploit that connection mercilessly...

Oh yes, of course.

Chapter 7

Still in search of the source of the scream we'd heard just moments earlier, Fenix and I continued to press further into the dark, musty passages of Crowhaven. The air seemed to grow thick and close in around us the further we ventured, and I noticed the only audible noise was that of our boots shuffling along the worn stone floor beneath us.

"Damn, this place gives me the creeps," Fenix commented, still wincing in pain. "Where the hell are the others? You'd think that we'd have run into them by now."

I simply shook my head, as oblivious to the whereabouts of Ross and his men as Fenix. "I dunno. Maybe they-" I cut my response short as I noticed the distinct glow of firelight emanating from a room up ahead, at the end of the long hallway. I didn't want to risk alerting any bandits that might be inside to our presence, especially with Fenix in his wounded state, so I gave a barely audible "shush" to the man. He looked to the room, then back to me, nodding in confirmation, before we slowly advanced on the well lit room.

As we made our way inside the rather large, two tier chamber, I had to keep myself from gasping. Fenix and I stood silently on the upper floor of the room, with two staircases side by side leading down to the lower section, where a number of bodies lay on the floor, both bandit and guard alike. Their weapons lay strewn about amongst the bodies, pools of blood forming beneath the corpses; it looked as though this had been the final site of their battle. In the centre of the room, however, stood Hukral, his back to us and his massive hammer held limply at his side.

"By the gods..." Fenix muttered softly, looking between the various bodies, a look of horror on his face. "What the hell..."

As I scanned the room in shock, the body of Captain Ross stood out amongst the dead, and I felt a mixture of confusion and anger. Hukral couldn't have done this, could he? I knew that he had a reputation for being brutal on missions...but this was too much. I stepped towards the left staircase, and glared down at the Nord. "Hukral!" I shouted, no longer caring who heard me. "What the hell is going on here!? Did you do this?" But the damned Nord didn't even have the guts to turn and face me. "Hukral!"

After a moment of hesitation, the Nord slowly began to turn about, his entire body moving in a sluggish manner. The right side of his face came into view, but it was...wrong. His skin was pale, an unhealthy grey, and his gaze seemed to look out at nothing. But that was nothing, I realized, as his left side came into view. Bits of charred muscle and bone were all that remained of the left side of Hukral's face, the flesh around the wound burnt and blackened. The man's glossy, empty eyes locked onto Fenix and I, and Nord slowly advanced towards the stairs.

Fenix and I quickly backed away from the edge of the staircase, and I gently eased the wounded man to the ground, before dropping his claymore next to him and quickly readying my own weapon. "Hukral, stop!" I ordered, my heart beating wildly within my chest as I hoped whatever the man had become could hear me. "I said stop!" But the creature simply continued forward, now ascending the staircase before me.

"Felicity!" Fenix exclaimed just behind me, desperation in his voice. "He's gone! I don't know what the hell is going on, but you've gotta take him down!" he insisted.

I muttered under my breath, realizing that Fenix was right; if he'd killed those other men, then I didn't have a choice. I held my blade before me as Hukral grew near, and once he was within range of my weapon I thrust forward with it, catching him in one of the joints of his Orcish armour, just beneath his shoulder. The Nord's torso twitched back slightly as the tip of the blade punched through his flesh, but he showed no sign of pain from the injury as he swung clumsily with his hammer, an attack that I easily managed to duck beneath. The massive weapon crashed into the stone wall to my left, shattering the musty surface.

I quickly backed away and to the right from Hukral, still with my blade held defensively between him and myself. As I backpedalled, I noticed Fenix off to my left, trying to get to his feet while clutching his claymore in one hand. "Dammit Fenix, stay down!" I roared at him, shifting my grasp on my blade slightly. "I don't need you getting yourself killed!"

But the dark haired Imperial seemed to ignore my request, and despite his injury he managed to level his claymore as Hukral passed ignorantly by him, still lumbering slowly towards me. "Hey, you son of a [censored]!" Fenix taunted, before uselessly striking at the Nord's backside with his claymore. The metal blade merely pinged against the heavy Orcish armour, not possibly leaving anything more than a scratch. What the hell was Fenix thinking? With his injury he could barely lift his weapon, and he had just attacked Hukral's armour outright. What could he possibly accomplish?

But as Hukral slowly turned around, now shifting his attention to Fenix, the answer became clear. "Yeah, that's right," I heard Fenix taunt, before looking out from the other side of Hukral's massive frame at me. With the Nord's focus now on Fenix, the muscles in my arms tensed, and I rushed towards Hukral's backside, raising my blade high. With the best possible angle I could manage given our height difference, I struck Hukral's neck with my sword, a simple feat with him moving so slowly. My sharpened blade made easy work of both his flesh and spine, and his head came off cleanly, before dropping to the floor with a dull thud. Thick, coagulated blood oozed gradually from the severed head as the Nord's body slowed, until finally collapsing forward.

With the Nord dead, Fenix slumped back to the ground, clutching at his side. "What the hell was that?" Fenix asked, staring in disbelief at the fallen giant. I made my way past the corpse, and knelt down next to the dark haired man. "Damn bastard didn't so much as flinch when you stabbed him with your sword."

I glanced over at Hukral's felled body, and shook my head slightly. "Yeah, I know," I replied simply, before helping Fenix get back to his feet. "In fact, he was acting more like a zombie than anything else," I pointed out.

"A zombie?" Fenix asked, standing back up before glancing down at the bodies of the bandits and guards on the floor beneath us. "Hold on a sec, you don't think that there's a necro-"

"It would certainly explain Huk here," I pointed out quickly, cutting Fenix off. I pursed my lips together tightly as I tried to make sense of everything that was happening; the raiding, the organization across the province. None of it added up. "But a necromancer, with bandits? It doesn't make any sense," I added, thinking out loud.

"Well, I say we find whoever the hell this necro-[censored] is, and figure out just what the hell is going on," Fenix suggested, before glancing down at the room of corpses. "And hope to hell that Hukral's the only one he pulled out the stops on."

I gave a curt nod of agreement as I helped Fenix down the stairs, before navigating through the corpse pile, giving as wide a birth to each body as I could. We cleared the site of the slaughter, and moved into another hallway leading away from the room's bottom floor.

As with the other halls we'd already traversed, this one was fairly bare, the only furnishings the dusty cobwebs that hung from the stone ceiling overhead. Yet, as we closed in on the only room the hall led into, the stench of decaying flesh abruptly assaulted my senses, and I wrinkled my face in disgust.

"I hate these [censored]s," Fenix growled quietly to my right as we approached the entrance to the room, and glanced inside.

A single figure, a male Dunmer in rather expensive looking red robes, occupied the room, feverishly packing what looked like Welkynd stones from one of many tables into a large wooden crate, his back to us as he worked. Fenix attempted to pull away from me, a silent gesture that he felt he could stand on his own for this. I let him go, and the two of us diligently crept towards the occupied Elf, working our way around the empty tables in the rather dark little room, each of us with weapon in hand.

We each paused a few feet back from the Dark Elf, and I silently committed to myself that I wouldn't let this turn into another disaster. I quickly jumped the Elf, forcing my blade through his right shoulder; I knew that the wound wouldn't kill him, but unless he was undead as well, it should hurt him well enough. As predicted, the Elf dropped his Ayleid stones to the ground and clutched at the blade erupting from his chest.

"Listen up, Dunmer," I growled angrily, keeping a tight grasp on my blade as the Dunmer wrapped his hands around the end of the weapon. "I wanna know what the hell is going on around here, and I want to know, now."

The Elf craned his neck around to look at both me and Fenix, scanning us for a moment, before scowling bitterly. "Blow me, [censored]," was the Dunmer's only response.

Fenix quickly let his right hand drop from his claymore's hilt, and slugged the Dunmer across the jaw, causing the Elf's entire torso to jerk to the left, and subsequently my blade cut deeper into the Mer's chest. "Watch your language, Dark Elf," Fenix grumbled, shaking his fist as the Elf whimpered angrily in pain. "Didn't your filthy ass mother ever teach you to talk nice to a lady?"

I leaned in closer to the Dunmer as I forced my blade to odd angles within his shoulder, watching him clench his teeth in pain. "Now, we want to know what it is you [censored]s have been doing around here, and why," I explained with a purposefully calm voice, although it was lined with anger. "So start talking."

"Why should I!?" the Dunmer yelled, glaring at the two of us."If I tell you you'll just kill me anyway!"

"True," Fenix replied casually, shrugging. "But a necrotic [censored] like you? You're going to die here either way, whether it be relatively quick and painless, or otherwise."

I jerked my weapon up within the Elf's shoulder, just to emphasize his situation, and he spat with anger and defeat. "Damn..." he growled.

"Now," I began, confident he would start talking. "I'm assuming you're the necromancer who worked that Nord over back there. What are you doing here, with all these bandits?" I asked, my tone slightly less angry than a moment before. "Don't recall your type playing well with others."

The Dark Elf let out a miserable sigh. "We were all hired by the same guy," he growled, shaking his head. "Some pompous rich guy in Cheydinhal. A Brenus...something."

"Hired?" Fenix asked, furrowing his brow. "To do what?"

"To steal Welkynd stones and Varla stones," the Dunmer replied, his breathing growing more deep and laboured. "Said he needed them for whoever it was that was employing him."

I glanced over at Fenix, furrowing my brow as I struggled to understand. Who in the hell would bother hiring people to steal Welkynd and Varla stones? Assuming that the other groups around the province were doing the same thing, who would go to all that trouble? I turned back to the Elf. "Were you supposed to steal anything else? Other Ayleid artefacts? And who hired this Brenus?" I forced my blade further into his shoulder. "Talk!"

"Nothing else, I swear!" the Dunmer exclaimed, clutching frantically at the blade protruding from his shoulder. "We were only hired to get the stones! He said that he was hired by some group called 'Blackwood', whatever the hell that is!" He looked back at me pleadingly. "That's all I know!"

I looked at the Dunmer for a moment, and felt a slight pang of pity as he looked up at me, his face lined with pain. I gave a slight nod to Fenix, and he quickly ran his own blade through the Elf's heart. The Dunmer sputtered for a brief moment, before his body went limp. Fenix and I both recovered our blades, letting the dead necromancer fall to the floor, and I looked at him intently as he leaned on the nearby table for support.

"Blackwood, huh?" I asked out loud, before giving a slight shrug. "Well, sounds like McGregor's got his mastermind behind all of this. He should be pleased about that, at least," I commented dryly, thinking about how he would react to the massive casualties incurred during this little expedition. I gave my comrade a slightly puzzled look as he shook his head, however. "What's wrong?"

"Something about that name, 'Blackwood'," Fenix replied, bracing his hands against the table behind him and shaking his head. "Something about this seems off. Why only go for Ayleid stones? If you're gonna bother getting so many different groups together, why not go for something bigger?" He glanced down at the fallen Dunmer. "I think there's more going on here than even this [censored] knew."

Another 'cliffhangery' ending to a chapter. Man i want to know who hired the guy who was hired by some guy who was hired by some other randomer who i hope will be revealed in the next few chapters. Nevertheless Nova another flipping great chapter! Tally ho off to do something TES related!!

Thanks, Dust.

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Chapter 8

A pale blue light, the shade of an early spring morning, shrouded the aging Altmer's hands as he worked them rhythmically across Fenix's wound, deep in concentration as though the motion itself held some unknown significance. I watched with a casual, intermittent interest from across the cosily lit Mage's Guild room, as Fenix, stripped to the waist and laying on his side atop a wooden table, squirmed uncomfortably while the Altmer worked his ancient magic.

In rhythm with one of Fenix's awkward squirms, the elderly mage let his hands drop to his sides, faint tendrils of blue magic following their paths downward. "Young man, will you kindly hold still?" The Elf shifted his position in his wooden seat before the table, shaking his head slightly. "Honestly, the way you're wriggling, you'd think you had a Scrib in your pants."

"Well can you blame me?" Fenix asked, looking up at the Altmer from his position atop the table. "I've been stuck here for a good half hour. How much longer is this gonna take, pops?"

The healer pressed his hand firmly against Fenix's side, forcing his defiant patient back onto the table proper. With the Altmer applying even a minute amount of pressure to the still wounded area, Fenix let out a surprised yelp, tinged with genuine pain, and obediently kept his place on the tabletop. "It will take as long as it takes," the Elf explained matter-of-factly, bringing his glowing, rhythmic hands to bear once more. "If I don't heal this properly, then a little pain will be the least of your worries."

I felt the corners of my mouth tug into a slight, amused smile at the juvenile intercourse between the two men, and leaned back in my chair on the opposite side of the room. Fenix glanced over at me, and I can only assume he was referring to the look on my face when he asked: "You look awfully pleased. See anything you like?" He grinned obnoxiously, but remained still, probably remembering his healer's previous rebuttal.

I waved my hand dismissively, unable to keep the smile on my face from widening as I looked away. "Oh, it's nothing," I replied, my tone sounding slightly playful before I had a chance to do anything about it. "Just funny, watching you wiggle around like a little kid."

Fenix suppressed a slight chuckle. "Well, you know what they say. 'A youthful spirit is essential to a youthful body,'" he explained with all the confidence and self assuredness of an established scholar.

The healer let out an exasperated sigh, no doubt wishing he wasn't trapped here with a pair of youthful Imperials. Other than that single outburst, however, he remained silent for the next few minutes, working his hands from side to side in a hypnotic pattern, and the wound from Fenix's encounter soon faded, all traces of the battle removed from his skin.

"There," the Elf grumbled, his tone poorly masking his relief that the ordeal was finally over. He sat up from his seat, straightening out the wrinkles in his expensive looking scarlet robe. "And please, young man, do be more careful in the future." The elderly mage shook his head distastefully, before heading into a different room nearby. "Or at least see a different healer the next time..." he muttered.

Fenix sat up from his position on the table, his gaze following the Altmer as he strode into the next room. "Yeah, it's been real swell," he mumbled quietly, before grabbing his nearby garments and began replacing them.

With my head still facing off to the side, I found myself peeking from the corner of my eye at Fenix as he replaced his undershirt. Despite being rather well toned, I was surprised by how fair, how smooth and pale, his skin was; I suppose that somehow, I'd imagined him as being somewhat more rugged underneath his armour. Not that it was a bad thing, mind you; I thought he looked rather attractive, his skin youthful and untarnished.

This, of course, is when my mind snapped back into focus, as if for the last few moments it'd been caught in a dense fog. I never thought about men in the past, at least not in a that way. I'd always told my parents that I didn't want any part of it, that I simply wasn't interested. That was the truth, wasn't it? I'll admit, he's certainly not bad looking, I though hastily to myself, averting my glance. But, I'm sure as hell not...I mean... With difficulty, I blocked out the world around me as I forcibly directed my thoughts. He's better looking than some guys, but, that doesn't mean anything, I told myself, forcing an excuse for my little peep show.

"Felicity!" I heard off to the side, and my gaze quickly jolted back towards Fenix, who had finished replacing his various layers of clothing and pauldrons during my little flurry of thoughts. "You alright?" he asked, gazing at me curiously as he slid off the surface of the table, and walked towards me.

"What?" I asked, initially taken aback by the question. My brain felt like it was covered with fuzz after my personal monologue, and it took me a moment to respond to his question. "Oh, yeah," I replied, shaking my head and forcing a slight smile. "I was just thinking about the mission, and what McGregor's gonna say about all this." It wasn't really a lie, because I had been thinking about it earlier; out of the guards sent to Crowhaven, only three had made it back alive. Add to that the fact that Hukral was dead, and I wasn't really looking forward to the General's response.

Fenix replied with a slight, casual shrug. "Not much that you can do, I suppose," he explained, sticking his hands deep into his pockets. "This kinda stuff happens. I'm sure he'll understand."

"Maybe," I said quietly, unsure whether he'd picked up on my unconvinced tone. I stood up from my seat, and, purposely keeping my eyes averted from Fenix, now that he'd be able to see if I did look, headed towards the thick wooden door leading to the streets of Anvil. The door hesitantly creaked open with all the finesse of an old iron gate, and the two of us ventured outside.

By now, it was early evening, and the clouds overhead were painted darkening colours of crimson and amber, the first of the night's stars beginning to twinkle overhead. Off in the distance, I could make out the sounds of a few ships in the city's docks, bells cutting through the quieting evening air with virtually no difficulty.

"So, you know any good places to set up camp for the night?" I heard Fenix ask me, and I turned around to face him, a subtly inquisitive look on his face. "I figure it's getting pretty late, so we may as well stay here for the night." He gestured towards the large city gate, close by. "Unless you'd prefer to get going now."

I slowly shook my head. "Nah, we'll get going in the morning," I insisted, before glancing around the vicinity of the Mage's Guild. "But I don't come here very often. I'm not really sure where the inns are."

Fenix started making for one of the rear gates, the ones leading to the Anvil docks. "No problem," he insisted, as I kept pace beside him. "Harbour towns like this one always keep their inns near the ships, where they can attract the sailors." He glanced over at me, a wry grin on his face. "Trust me."

"Sounds like you know this from experience," I guessed with a genuine interest. "Are you from around here?"

He shook his hand dismissively, wordlessly informing me that I was mistaken. "No, but I grew up in Ebonheart, back in Vvardenfell," he explained with a hint of nostalgia. "The local taverns were usually ripe with sailors who were just itching to spend all their hard earned gold on booze and women."

"Sounds classy," I remarked dryly, rolling my eyes. "So, this place must feel like home to you then, huh?" I asked.

"Yeah, I suppose so," he replied, stretching his arms out and folding them back behind his head. "It's actually kinda funny. When I was a kid I was desperate as hell to get outta that hole. I was so sick of the water, the drunks, the whole atmosphere." Fenix paused for a moment as we walked, and gave a thoughtful glance around the docks. "Never thought I'd miss it."

I was slightly stunned by Fenix's statement, mostly because of how it made me think about Cropsford. Not once since I'd left four years ago had I been back, never even bothered to send a letter. I thought about it sometimes, though. I figured that mom was probably worried sick about me, and I missed her and my friends. Sometimes I'd ask myself how many of the others had left the town as well, and managed to make real lives for themselves. Maybe, once this job was over, I'd go back, see how things were there.

For now, though, my focus was on finding somewhere that I could rest. I nudged Fenix slightly in the side, and pointed towards the sign for a nearby inn. "What do you make of that one? The 'Iron Maiden'?" I asked, glancing back at the Imperial. "After all, you're our resident expert on low class dives like this, right?" I joked, rather pleased with the remark.

Fenix quickly scanned the rather small and run down looking wooden building, before chuckling. "Well, as long as you don't mind the cockroaches, I think it'll be alright," he teased with a grin on his face, his teeth peeking through his lips. With that said and done, the two of us made our way to the establishment, and through the rickety wooden door in front.

The outward appearance had certainly been telling of the building's interior. Cheap, crappy looking wooden tables and chairs filled the small tavern, populated with grubby looking sailors, a fair number of Nords and Redguards among them, as well as equally cheap looking women, sitting at the tables, drinking and laughing. I felt a slight sense of pity for the women, and disgust at the entire scene, before trailing Fenix to the counter, a scruffy but not unclean looking Dunmer behind it.

"Welcome to the 'Iron Maiden,' you two," he greeted warmly, a happy smile breaking out across his lips. "Can I get either of you something to drink? We've got a special on brandy tonight, brewed right here in Cyrodiil!" he exclaimed, with the practiced fluency of a true entrepreneur.

Fenix shook his head in response. "No thanks. We'd just like a couple of rooms for the night," he requested politely.

The Dunmer furrowed his brow, his light red eyes narrowing awkwardly. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, shifting his stance uncomfortably as he avoided eye contact with either of us.

"Something wrong?" I asked, puzzled.

"I'm really sorry, but I've only got one room available," he explained, looking between the two of us with an apologetic look on his face. "It's been a real busy week, lots of ships coming and going, and all the inns around here have been booked every night." He let out a disappointed sigh, and from what I could tell he was genuinely distraught about the whole thing.

"It's alright," I replied, forcing a meek smile. I figured that it wasn't too far from Kvatch, but I still didn't feel like riding all the way there. After all, following the mission I was tired and just wanted to get some sleep, but what could you do?

Fenix, however, had a look on his face as if he was trying to point out how ridiculous we were being. "That shouldn't be a problem. She and I'll just share the room," he proposed casually, as if there were nothing to it. He glanced back at me, arching a single eyebrow in curiosity. "I mean, assuming you're okay with that, Felicity."

I paused for a moment, thinking about the idea. After all, it seemed odd to be sharing a room with a man I'd basically just met, didn't it? But, it did seem kind of stupid to travel all the way to Kvatch over one night, and Fenix hardly struck me as the type to try anything underhanded. "I...guess so," I replied hesitantly, still not entirely convinced.

The Dunmer looked between the two of us, before giving a sharp exhale, his eyes opening wide as he grabbed the key from behind the counter. "Uh, here ya go," he said, handing the key over to Fenix as the Imperial placed a handful of gold on the countertop. "It's just up the stairs, and the first door on your left."

"Thanks, bud," Fenix replied, tossing the key up in the air and grabbing it, before heading up the uneven, rickety stairs. I followed up behind him, head low, feeling slightly nervous, as if I'd just become some kind of unwitting working girl, and I could distinctly feel the Dunmer's eyes on me as I made my way up the stairs.

"G'night, you two," the Elf called up the stairs as I turned the corner, walking into the already opened room.

Although some people might've used the word cozy, I knew that the room was cramped as hell, a tiny wooden box with a single nightstand next to a small, unspectacular bed. Fenix had already removed his claymore from his back, placing it on the nightstand.

"So, how're we gonna do this?" I asked, looking at the narrow bed, with its grey, drab sheets. Had Fenix realized how small this room would be when he proposed his stupid plan?

"You can take the bed," Fenix replied, easing himself down onto the floor, and laying down, his head supported only by his hands. "I'll sleep on the floor, okay?"

"Fenix..." I replied, touched by the man's chivalrous gesture while also feeling a distinct pang of guilt. "There's no way you're going to be comfortable down there. Why don't we just pack up and head to Kvatch? Or one of the other inns along the road? I don't want you to have to sleep on the floor," I explained, and I already knew I had a concerned look on my face.

Fenix simply laughed it off, waving his hand. "Don't worry about it. I've slept on the ground plenty of times. Besides, we're already here, right?" My shoulders drooped as I continued to wear a guilt ridden expression, and Fenix sat upright. "Really, Felicity, I'm okay."

I hesitated for a moment, then grabbed the pillow from the bed, and handed it to Fenix. "Here," I told him, insisting adamantly. "If you're going to sleep on the floor, at least take this." The pillow was flat, having lost its body long ago, probably, but it was still better than nothing.

Fenix grinned, and gratefully took the pillow. "Thanks," he said, placing it on the ground, and then his head on it. "Now let's try to get some sleep, alright? Tomorrow we can head to the Imperial City."

"Right," I replied, removing my dai katana and placing it alongside Fenix's blade. I laid back on the stiff mattress, folding my hands over my chest with my gaze resting on the ceiling. "Hey, Fenix? Thanks," I said quietly, my eyes fixed on a water stain above me.

"No problem. After all, a woman needs her personal space, right?"

"Right," I replied, a slight smile on my face as I closed my eyes. "Good night, Fenix.'

"Good night, Felicity."

Chapter 9

It was fairly slow going the next morning, when Fenix and I had made ready to get back on the road, intent on making it to the Imperial City before the end of the day. By the time each of us had an opportunity to eat and make use of Anvil's crowded and rather rundown bathhouse, it was already nearing midday. Once those chores were done and out of the way, then, we wasted no time gathering our horses and setting back towards the city.

The first leg of our journey was rather quiet, the majority of the conversation between the two of us either idle chit chat or comments on the pleasant weather. Personally, I wasn't really in the mood for a drawn out conversation anyway, though; after the chaos of the previous day, I welcomed the relative silence, a gentle breeze playing through the trees and the rhythmic clapping of hooves the only noise worth mentioning. Despite the fact that neither of us were talking that much, though, it was a welcome change of pace to have a travelling companion. While I normally didn't mind the solitude that came with being on the road so much, I had to admit that sometimes I got lonely.

The sun had already reached its peak in the sky by the time the two of us found ourselves between Kvatch and Skingrad counties, a single orb of light on a spotless blue canvas. I noticed a few deer grazing off to the side of the road, which quickly bounded into the thickly forested area nearby as the two horses approached. I chuckled quietly to myself as we continued our trek eastward at a casual pace.

The silence was abruptly broken, however, by the sound of Fenix's voice. "Hey, Felicity," he began, a slight hint of curiosity in his voice. I glanced over at him as he met my gaze with one of his own, genuine interest in his expression. "Mind if I ask why you decided to become a merc? I mean, instead of signing up with the Fighter's Guild or some other outfit?" he asked.

I paused a moment, considering the question. "Well, I actually thought about signing up with them when I first started out," I explained, shrugging slightly as I spoke. "But, I dunno. Seems to me that when you're in business for yourself, that you've got more options open to you. Besides, I like being able to pick and choose which jobs I take, assuming I'm not starving to death."

Suddenly, Fenix's bright blue eyes were alive with interest. "Options?" he asked me, scepticism lining his voice. "What do you mean?"

I waved my hand dismissively. "I don't do anything illegal, if that's what you're thinking," I replied calmly. "I'm no cold blooded killer, and I'm not about to be somebody's lackey, either. I've just noticed that some people would rather deal with an individual freelancer, rather than with a group like the Fighter's Guild. After all, when the Legion needed help, they didn't go to them, did they?"

Fenix nodded in agreement, seemingly satisfied with my explanation. "Yeah, I suppose so," he admitted easily, before shrugging slightly. "You can't really blame a guy for being curious, though. Seems most people who wind up in this business would do damn near anything for gold."

I remained silent a moment, unable to think of anything else to add to the comment; he certainly wasn't wrong, that was for sure. But I suddenly found myself asking the same question of Fenix, and I kept my look fixed on him as I spoke. "What about you, Fenix? I know Vvardenfell isn't exactly along the beaten path, but you've got a Fighter's Guild out there. What made you go freelancer?"

Fenix looked slightly surprised by my query, his eyebrows shooting up slightly. "Me?" he asked rhetorically, before letting out a light chuckle. "Same as you, I suppose; I like to pick which jobs I take. Vvardenfell's chock full of crazies who like to set up camp out in the middle of nowhere, and there's Daedra and people who worship them all over the place. And I mean the vicious kind, too." He paused for a moment, shaking his head. "Trust me, lots of people end up dead out there, including hired guns from the Fighter's Guild who get sent on missions they can't handle."

"Yeah, I know," I replied sombrely, casting my glance off to the side for a moment. "I've been to Vvardenfell a few times myself. I know that it's pretty nasty up there." I remembered a mission that I'd gone on once there, when one of the great houses, Redoran, I think it was, needed some extra help dealing with a vampire that had set up shop outside one of their rural cities. Apparently, it'd been abducting people, taking them back to its lair so it could feed on them at its leisure.

I didn't sleep well for a week after that job.

"Not like Cyrodiil's a picnic either, though," Fenix added, and I looked back in his direction. "You people have got a real goblin problem around these parts, you know that?"

I merely rolled my eyes in response. "Well, I think I'd rather deal with a goblin than a cliffracer any day," I shot back playfully.

Fenix gave out a weak chuckle as he smiled in agreement, before turning his attention back to the road. I followed suit, and we again resumed the silence that we'd previously maintained up to that point. Silently, though, I was rethinking our conversation, repeating what had been said on both sides in my mind. Despite the calmness with which I'd answered his question about why I'd gone freelancer, I had been secretly afraid that he'd disapprove of my reasons; that he'd think them unworthy of whatever standards he had for himself. Once again, I found myself confused about the influence this man held over me. Although he seemed like a personable enough guy, I'd only met him one day before. Why did I care what he thought?

The two of us continued on awhile, once again in silence, Fenix riding his horse Ranger while I sat atop Clover beside him. I took in the details of the surrounding area with detached interest, still thinking a fair amount on the conversation the two of us had just shared. I took me a moment to realize, then, that Fenix had suddenly slowed down, and had actually fallen behind me. I quickly pushed my thoughts on the conversation aside as I turned around to face Fenix, who was glancing off to the side, his eye caught by something.

"What's the matter?" I asked him, slowly moving my way back towards his position. I scanned the area he seemed to be looking at, but besides the crumbling white remains of an Ayleid ruin, didn't see anything out of the ordinary. "Anything wrong?"

"I was just thinking..." Fenix began, trailing off as his gaze seemed to wander. His look suddenly snapped back towards me, before he gestured towards the ruin. "You mind if we take a bit of a break?" he asked, as though it were a personal favour.

"Uh...I guess not," I replied, still unsure of what had initially caught Fenix's gaze. Nevertheless, we slowly rode our horses deeper into the exterior of the ruin, weaving around discarded pieces of stone and the occasional tree, although I kept my eyes open for anything unusual.

Finally, Fenix came to a stop near a small clearing, the tall, undisturbed grass growing around a large piece of ancient white stone. He dismounted from his horse, grabbing a small pack as he did so, and made his way to the crumbled bit of architecture.

"Hey Fenix, what's going on?" I asked him, dismounting from my own horse and walking over as he set himself down atop the piece of stone. "What are we doing here, anyway?"

Fenix looked up at me and smiled gently, before gesturing at the spot next to him. With a slight huff of impatience I sat down next to him as he shuffled through his pack. "Sorry if I'm acting a bit off," he began, pulling out a small piece of parchment, a quill and a sealed bottle of ink. "It's just that when I saw this place...I felt inspired. You know what it's like when you see something, and it just, I dunno, fits?"

At this point, I was completely lost on whatever it was Fenix was trying to say. I glanced at the piece of parchment he held in his hands, hoping it might help me understand, and quickly recognized what was scrawled onto it. "That's...music," I pointed out blatantly, before looking back at his face, his features lined in concentration as he began to write on the parchment.

"Yeah, I've been trying to get this piece going for awhile now," he explained, glancing from his parchment to the surrounding Ayleid ruin. His expression had a serious, thoughtful look to it as he nodded slightly, before returning to his parchment. "It's just so hard to find the right inspiration sometimes, and I don't always have alot of free time on my hands. You know how it is."

I glanced inside the pack at Fenix's feet, and found a number of additional sheets of paper. Somewhat timidly I pulled them out and glanced at them, and each of them was like the first, a parchment covered in musical scrawling. "You're a musician?" I asked, my gaze fixed on the papers as I leafed through them.

I heard Fenix chuckle softly next to me. "Well, I'm not, really. I mean, I'm an amateur, at best. But it's a hobby," he explained, and I was glad he was comfortable with me handling his music. "I mean, even us mercs are real people too, right?"

I stayed silent as I examined Fenix's work: at least a dozen different sheets of music, although each seemed to be incomplete. I found it interesting, the way people like him could create something out of nothing like that; to make something out of nothing but thin air and your imagination. I always imagined it took a phenomenal amount of effort to do something like that. I glanced back in the pack, to see if there were any other sheets of music, and something caught my eye at the bottom. I reached inside and pulled out a small, black wooden object, shaped like a long oval with what looked like a mouthpiece on the side, and small finger holes dotting its surface.

Fenix looked over at me as I held up the small object, and I shot him a curious glance. "What is this thing?" I asked him. "Is this what you play your music on?"

Fenix smiled warmly, nodding. "Yeah, it's called an ocarina. I learned how to play it years ago," he explained, his smile widening slightly. "Originally I had a flute, but the damn thing kept breaking in my pack. So, I managed to find one of those little beauties."

I set the other sheets of music back into the pack, carefully examining the instrument. "Wow, Fenix, seems like you're more than just a wise cracker after all," I pointed out, a slight hint of awe in my voice. "I've gotta say I'm impressed."

He simply shrugged modestly, and turned back to his parchment. After a slight moment of holding the ocarina in my hands, I looked up and held it towards him. "Do you think maybe...maybe you could play something?" I asked timidly, intrigued to hear his music.

Fenix looked somewhat shocked, and leaned back in the opposite direction, a sudden hint of anxiety in his expression. "I'm really not very good," he replied nervously. "It's really more of a personal hobby. I...I don't think anybody's ever actually heard me play before."

I extended my arm, forcing the instrument on him. "Come on, it's not like I'm going to laugh or anything. I just want to hear you play," I assured him kindly.

After hesitating a moment, Fenix finally gave in and took the ocarina from my hands. "Well, alright then. Anything specific you want me to try out?"

I glanced at the parchment he'd pulled out initially, some of the ink still wet from his scribbling. "Well, how about that one?" I asked him. "You said it was hard to find the right inspiration. What do you mean?"

Fenix glanced at the sheet, before laying it down on his lap, taking up his instrument in both hands. "Well, I know you've heard of the Ayleid, and I'm guessing you've heard of the Dwemer, too," he began. "But, have you ever just looked at one of those old ruins, and just, well, thought about it?"

I shook my head slightly. "I don't get it. Think about what?"

"About what those ruins actually mean," he replied, his words deliberately spoken and thoughtful. "That thousands of years ago, those names weren't just titles that got stuck to a piece of armour or a sword. They were real species, just like Orcs or Bosmer. And now, those ruins are all that's left of them." Fenix took a long pause, slowly looking up to the sky overhead. "Those ruins...are their legacy."

I thought for a moment about what Fenix had said, and it made sense. When somebody mentioned 'Ayleid', probably the first thing that came to mind was one of their ruins, instead of the race itself. "Well, you can't really blame them," I shot back, shrugging. "I'd say it's safe to assume most people have never met any Ayleid or a Dwemer. And I can't say for sure about the Dwemer, but I'd say those Ayleid bastards got what was coming to them."

Fenix chuckled as he brought his gaze back down to earth. "True enough. My point is, though, it doesn't matter how strong their empires once were, how advanced they were. For all their strength, a handful of buildings scattered across Tamriel is all that's left of them."

I kept silent for a moment, a sign that I was considering the meaning that Fenix was trying to convey to me. Finally, I looked back to him. "So, are you going to play it?"

Fenix gave a slight nod of confirmation, and brought the small instrument up to his lips. At first, I couldn't tell whether or not he was actually playing, but soon the sound of the breeze in the background was overshadowed by long, drawn out notes with a melodic quality to them.

It's difficult to describe what music sounds like, I think. Knowing what Fenix had meant to say with this piece, and sitting amongst the ruins of what had once been an Ayleid stronghold, every slow, methodical note seemed to carry a certain tragedy to it. It was as if the music itself was trying to say that this was the fate that had been chosen for the two races, Ayleid and Dwemer; that ultimately, they had no choice but to pursue a destiny of destruction, one chosen for them before their empires were ever created. I closed my eyes and listened closely, every melancholy note lulling me further into the spell, and I could almost imagine seeing the history of the two races play out in my mind, beginning to end.

Before I knew it, the music gave way to the sound of the breeze, and I opened my eyes to reality once again. I looked over to Fenix, who brought his instrument down from his lips, and his face morphed into a half grin. "So, what did you think?" he asked earnestly.

"Fenix...that was beautiful," I told him, smiling sombrely. "I'm still not sure that I understand, completely, but..." I trailed off, unsure of what else to say, and merely clasped his shoulder with my hand.

He responded with a curt nod of his head, a satisfied smile of pleasure on his face. He then looked skywards, and with a sudden sense of surprise and urgency, quickly began putting his music and ocarina back into his pack. "Oh boy, it's getting late," he explained. "We better get going if we're gonna make it back to the city today."

"Right," I replied, getting up and making my way towards the horses, which seemed unmoved by Fenix's performance, standing casually where we'd left them nearby. As I neared Clover, however, I noticed something over the trees, protruding into the skyline; the White Gold Tower, entrenched within the Imperial City. With Fenix's heartfelt performance and what it had meant still fresh in my mind, I couldn't help but wonder something.

In a thousand years, would somebody look on that city as the legacy of another lost empire?

So much! So good! So quickly!

Awesome...

Don't you wish to wait for some feedback before bombarding us into silent awe with your writing?

Anyway, I can't wait to see Fenix show his true colors. (Given how sappy he seems now, there has to be some dark secret about him. I mean, otherwise he'd already be married, have a dozen kids and his own county.)