Oh my! I’m not sure which I like more, Lilitu’s dialog with the boys, or her mental side-trips. Subdued by a handsome guard!

haute ecole rider~ Thank you Its not too difficult to pull off the raciness when you're used to having to be somewhat discreet And I imagined the flare and healing law somewhat like how you have to wear your seatbelt or not ride in the bed of a pick up truck (at least here in California). It was really the only explanation as to why literally everyone in Cyrodiil can do it

King Coin~ This won't die until the grand finale I'm too stubborn for that.

SubRosa~ Actually yes, the Rudgrumphs are the nearest neighbors I'll fix the cenoreds soon. I just wanted to display that Relemus is at the age where every sentence must be a swear

mALX~ Yay! Thanks mALX ♥♥

Grits~ Would you believe some of that dialogue was based off actual, constant fighting?




They stood in the backyard. Lilitu set an iron bucket at the target. Lilitu and Relemus stood in front of it, while Vardas and Saint sat on the sidelines.

Lilitu clapped her hands together. "Alright, now show me."

Relemus sighed heavily, slumping her shoulders. She flung her arm forward only to be rewarded with the dry hiss of a failed spell.

"See?" She said, her voice going up several octaves. "I can't do it!"

"Calm down and lower your voice!" Lilitu sighed. She tapped her lip. "Let's see, you were born under the Lord... Vardas, is there any negative effects on magicka under the Lord?"

Vardas shrugged.

"N'chow!" She swore. "Okay, watch me." She flung her arm out and a fireball zoomed onto the target. "Just a simple fling."

Relemus groaned. "Even you can do it and you're just a thief!"

"A little louder please, I don't think they heard you down in Leyawiin."

Relemus giggled a little.

"Alright, when you cast your fire, what do you feel?"

"Like I'm wasting my fetching time."

Lilitu pinched the bridge of her nose. "Alright, let's start this way. What is fire?"

"Hot."

"So how does it feel?"

Relemus looked at her flatly. "Hot."

Lilitu sighed deeply. "No, I mean... fire is anger, strength, passion..." She looked at Vardas. "Help me out here."

Vardas stood in place for a moment before silently walking over to Relemus and he slapped her over the head.

"Hey!" She cried, rubbing where she had been hit. "What in oblivion was that for, you dumb s'wit?!"

"What are you doing?" Lilitu hissed.

"There's a method to my madness," Vardas said softly. He hit Relemus again.

"Stop it, you cow!"

Vardas hit her harder, then pushed her in the snow.

"You fat son of a guar!"

"You angry?" Vardas asked, shouting in her face.

"Yes!"

"You want to beat me up?"

Relemus stomped her feet, gritting her teeth. "Yes!"

"Then throw your fire! Do it now!"

Relemus swung her fist, but instead of hitting Vardas, she was rewarded with a large flaming blossom headed straight for the target. She gaped at it before hugging her brother tightly. "I did it! I fetching did it!"

"Good," Lilitu said, clapping her hands. "Remember how you felt when you cast it? You need to feel it every time until you're used to it. Now for healing. Can you do that?"

She nodded.

"Good." Lilitu looked over the Jerral mountains, disappointed to see the sun setting. "I've been here this long? Damn!"

"Why don't you stay the night?" Relemus asked.

"Because, I have to hurry. I've already taken too long. Remember, Dolce is waiting for me."

"How long do you think it will take to get the stone?" Vardas asked.

Lilitu pointed up. "The monastery is a few miles up and depending on how well hidden it is, it could take several hours."

"So, steal the stone and I'll watch for you and when I see you I'll unlock your window. You get some rest and then sneak out in the morning. Sounds good?"

She nodded, smiling. If Vardas was the affectionate type, she would have hugged him.



She was thankful for the warmth of her leather armor, but as she walked to the monastery she longed for the Grey Cowl, if only to keep her bare face warm. The mountain was steeper than she thought and the higher in altitude, the colder it got. About a mile up, snow began to fall. First in light flakes then quickly into fluffy flurries.

The cold wind stung her nose into numbness and penetrated her warmth until it sat in her bones. Her lips were freezing and she kept licking them, knowing full well it would only make it worse and chap them. By the gods it was obscenely cold! She looked up north, wondering how on Nirn the Nords put up with it, especially the so-called bare-sarks, who supposedly ran around in nothing but furry boots. It was insane.

As her teeth chattered uncontrollably, she cursed Savilla's Stone for being in such a barren place. Why couldn't it have been stashed away in Leyawiin or Anvil? Because that would have been too easy that's why. And maybe, she thought. The Grey Fox is testing my loyalty... Unlikely as it was, Lilitu repeated that thought in her mind. It was the only thing that kept her going until she finally reached the small settlement. She fell to her knees happily.

"You alright, miss?"

Lilitu looked up to see a Nord dressed in a white robe, staring down at her with kind blue eyes. He didn't shiver. Lilitu could nearly feel the warmth from his hand as he lifted her out of the snow. "What's a girl like you doing so far up here in the middle of nowhere?"

Lilitu bit her chapped lip. "I'm a student."

"Oh..." He said, raising his snow-flecked eyebrows. "What's a student doing way up here, so far from civilization?"

"Well, I'm doing a report."

"Ah, I see," he said. "Here, let's get you inside where it's warm and you can tell me more."

He led her to a small house where a few other monks were. The blazing fire warmed her up so much that she almost curled up in front of it and napped. She resisted the urge and followed the monk to a small table. She took the seat across from him.

"Oh, goodness me, we haven't been properly introduced! I am Brother Holger."

"Sadisa Nerethi," she said. She had a roster of false names prepared for times like these.

"So, what's this report you're doing?"

"It's on sacred artifacts."

One look in his eyes told Lilitu that he knew what she was getting at. Holger leaned back in his chair. "Alright, well..." He shifted in his seat slightly. "What do you need to know?"

"Well...." She began twirling her ponytail. "All I really need is confirmation that Savilla's Stone is hidden away here."

Holger looked her up and down for a moment. Lilitu forced herself to remain calm and cool. "You walked all this way just for someone to tell you that?"

"It was the only way to find out... other than breaking in and stealing it!" She added with a laugh.

He laughed a little. "Oh, you don't want to do that. The monks may be blind, but they're still a force to be reckoned with." He paused, lowering his voice. "The blind monks in the catacombs guard it. They say it might have special powers."

"Really?" Lilitu said breathily. "Could you just show me where they live? Please?"

He pursed his lips. "I really shouldn't... but I suppose I can just show you the door. I mean, you came all this way. I would hate for it to have been for nothing. Just don't tell anyone. I could get banished for this."

Lilitu jumped up, clasping her hands and smiling. "Thank you so much! Don't worry, my lips are sealed if yours are."

He nodded and led her out to a large chapel. Once inside, she followed him downstairs to a large ornate door. Moths and robed people worshiping them were carved into the wood. "They live down here, in the catacombs. It’s dark as night down there. but since they're blind, it doesn't bother them."

"I see," she said, placing her hand on the door. "It's so beautiful... I'll show myself out. Thanks again."

Holger nodded and after placing a finger to his lips, he went back to the house.

After she was sure that she was alone, she pulled out her lock pick and went to work.


This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Dec 23 2019, 07:46 AM

"A little louder please, I don't think they heard you down in Leyawiin."

Relemus giggled a little.

Grits giggled a lot. And then some more at the rest of Relemus’ and Vardas’ antics!

Oh, Lilitu’s journey made me cold. I’m looking forward to seeing her at work in the catacombs!

Ahh, that ponytail twirl! Never fails! It's like the Korean OPW!

And I loved the siblingness between Relemus and Vardas. And yes, that's what it takes to get the kid to fling a flare!

"A little louder please, I don't think they heard you down in Leyawiin."


I liked how you used hot emotions to unlock Relemus' learning to cast fire spells. I guess it is a good thing it was anger that Vardas decided to elicit in him, instead of lust! Or course now the next time the kid gets ticked off, he will burn the house down...

I loved Liltu's frustration over her cold, mountain climb. It makes sense that Dunmer, who are resistant to fire and probably very happy in hot climates, would be even more uncomfortable in the snow than other people. Her thoughts that the stone had to be in the mountains just to make it harder for her were just priceless!

Very quick thinking on Liltu's part, not only throwing off the suspicions of the monk who found her with her story of being a student, but even using him to help her find where the stone was!


nits:
Moths and robed people worshiping them was carved into the wood
That should be were, as the subject - moths and robed people - is plural. Was is for singular subjects.

Its dark as night down there.
The Grey Fox heisted the apostrophe in It's. Remember this word is an weird case, not having the apostrophe for a possessive, but always having it when a contraction for "it is".

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Apr 21 2011, 04:16 PM

The interaction with the brothers is just wonderful!

Lilitu was fortunate to run into such a trusting Brother. That was easy!

However, if you rewrite it as An image of moths, and robed people worshiping them, was carved into the wood then the image is singular, so it would be valid. Was that what you intended? It works just as well either way.

I'm a little surprised that Vardas wasn't ducking the fireball when it (finally) happened. All's well that ends well.

Indeed. In that case the subject would be the image, not moths and robed people.

It was the strangest feeling. Her eyes were open but all she could see was blackness. She could hear soft footsteps and voices from another room. She reached out in front of her, afraid to take a step forward for fear of falling and making a ruckus. She reached in her bag and felt around her her ring of nighteye. Once she slipped it on her finger, the room seemed to be illuminated with blue light. She carefully went down the stairs.

The empty room she was in seemed to be a sanctuary of sorts. Benches sat in rows in front of a pulpit. Behind the pulpit stood a large, headless statue holding a book. Cobwebs draped over the hard, stone walls. Faded drapery decorated the walls. Even from a distance, Lilitu could tell it was made of silk.

There was a door to her left. It was sturdy and heavy. When swung open, it probably makes a lot of noise, Lilitu thought. Since there was no other way in, she had no choice but to go through it. Indeed it creaked loudly after it was unlocked. She whispered thanks to Nocturnal that no one was around to hear it.

She headed straight down the first hallway and entered the first room on the right. There were people inside. All of them robed, like Holger, though instead of tonsures, their heads were shaven except for a small ponytail on the top of their heads and they wore blindfolds over their eyes. They were mostly seated at a table filled with fruit and bread. This must be the kitchen. Lilitu took a step back when someone turned toward her.

"Who's there?" The monk demanded. The other monks turned as well, silencing themselves.

Lilitu pressed her lips together, her eyes focused on the long sword on his back. Its slim, curved blade was about as long as she was tall. All of them were armed with the same sword. She backed up slowly and silently and stood behind the wall.

"Damn rats..." He muttered turning away. With that, the other monks returned to their conversations.

Lilitu wanted to sigh in relief but she didn't want to get caught again. Her legs had just stopped shaking when another monk headed in her direction. Lilitu pressed herself against the wall, taking in shallow breaths when she saw a rat coming toward her. Don't come near me, don't come near me!

The rat looked straight at her, and then ran across Lilitu's feet, settling on her toe for a moment while it cleaned its face. She bit down on her lip to keep from screaming. The urge to fling it from her foot was overwhelming. She squeezed her eyes shut until it continued on its way into a hole on the wall. Lilitu sighed a little and then remembered the monk. He turned midway and went back to where he had come from. She continued down until she wound up back in the kitchen.

Damn it! I went in a circle! She looked around until she saw a door. It wasn't as heavy as the first one had been. With her eyes trained on the one who had nearly caught her, she slipped past the priests and went out the door.



The next room seemed to be for storage. Boxes were piled high with barrels littered around them. Three monks stood around talking amongst themselves. Lilitu walked silently around them, not even daring to breathe until she was down the hall.

The hall led her to what must have been their sleeping quarters. Beds were lined up in rows. A blond monk sat inside. Though she wore a blindfold, Lilitu could tell her face was delicate and gentle. She sat on the bed, her legs crossed, humming softly. Lilitu stood up and watched her as the humming graduated to soft singing.

She had the voice of a siren. Lilitu walked toward her, her heart beating fast and her cheeks reddening. One word escaped her lips in barely a whisper.

"Vivica?"

In that moment she forgot all about Savilla's Stone and imagined herself saving Vivica from the remote monastery, where she was undoubtedly being held against her will. They would run out together and once they were safe, they would celebrate their reunion in a nice little inn, sipping wine in front of a blazing fireplace.

Then she noticed a lack of freckles and fine lines around the monk’s lips. Don't be silly, she thought, backing away silently. Of all places, here? Get a grip and focus for Vivec's sake!

With a final look at the singing monk, she turned toward a rickety looking door and went through.

Lilitu descended into a cavern. It was even colder than the catacombs and something about it felt strange. Glowing mushrooms sprouted around the tall stalactites. She looked back at the door, almost wanting to turn back, but she knew it was too late. She came too far for that. She looked back ahead and almost tripped a thin rope tied from one end of the tunnel to the other. Looking up, she could see three heavy maces poised to come tumbling into the poor soul who would have set the trap. Another rope was just a few feet ahead of the first, probably to get someone who got careless after eluding the original.

Quite an odd trap on a place where everyone is blind. As she went on, it dawned on Lilitu that the trap wasn’t for the monks, but for someone like her. The thought gave her goosebumps.

She turned the corner, happy to see no more traps. No monks roamed the caverns, either. In fact, it was completely empty. It should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. A strange creaking sound only furthered the eerie feeling. The sound wasn’t from a door or just natural cave noises. It was something else.

When she found her answer, her legs trembled. She clapped her hand in front of her mouth to silence the scream building up inside her. A skeleton stood less than ten feet away. Its back was turned from her and in its bony hands it clutched a battle axe.

Lilitu was frozen in place. It had no eyes and no ears, but somehow she knew she wouldn't be able to sneak past it. Her eyes began to well up as she drew out her dagger. She blinked them away before they could blind her. She needed to be able to see if she was going to get through.

Nocturnal, please guide me. Please keep me hidden... She bit her lip and tip-toed toward it. Though she swore she made no sound, the skeleton turned anyway. It opened its mouth, making a horrible hissing noise.

Lilitu didn't bother to try and be quiet. As it brought down its axe, she screamed, rolling out of the way. Its eyeless sockets followed her as she crawled backward. With every movement, its bones creaked, echoing throughout the cave. It came toward her, its axe raised high above its head. She looked at the dagger, knowing it wouldn't do much damage from afar. The creaking began to sound like mocking laughter. The skeleton stood directly in front of her, its mouth hanging open.

"Get away!" She screamed, kicking its kneecap. It shattered under the force of her kicks. The skeleton screamed, falling over. Lilitu got up quickly and began stomping on its head until it cracked open.

She sank to her knees, her entire body trembling. She choked back sobs, her eyes refusing to leave the skeleton. It rose from the dead once, what would stop it from rising again, with or without a head? It’s not like the lack of a brain, or eyes and ears had stopped it in the first place. She nudged it with her foot a few times before picking up the axe and sticking it in her bag. That way if it did rise again, heaven forbid, it had no weapon.

She continued down the cave, though she kept looking back to be sure nothing followed. When she saw another skeleton she nearly screamed. It was only until she saw it was just a corpse that had been caught in a trap that she calmed down.

Before her, a narrow path went through several sharp spikes. A large chest sat in the middle of a group of them. The poor soul embedded in the spikes seemed to be reaching for the chest. The path was too narrow for her or anyone bigger than a Bosmeri toddler to get through easily and far too long to jump over. There was no other choice but to plow through.

First she threw her bag across the spikes, so she wouldn’t be weighed down. Then she set one foot in front of the other, holding her arms out to balance her. She looked at the chest, wondering what could be inside, but she figured it was probably an empty lure for greedy people looking for loot.

“Alright,” she said, once past the spikes. “A skeleton, spikes, what else could be lurking in here?”

A ghost.

She knew what it was the moment it swooped down the tunnel. She breathed in short gasps, unable to believe it. What in Oblivion did the Gray Fox get her into? She clenched her fists, at that moment wanting nothing more than to throttle him for sending her out into the cold, isolated, and haunted dump for a stupid stone!

She waited for the ghost to come her way, but after it drifted down another tunnel it didn’t come back. A part of her wanted to fall to her knees and thank the gods, but she didn’t for fear of wasting any more time. She went ahead to another door, so rickety she could have easily broken it down if she wanted to.

The door led to her an open cavern. An altar was below her with a floating black stone above a solitary man, kneeling before what appeared to be a crystal ball. It matched the Gray Fox’s drawing of Savilla’s Stone. No ghosts, no skeletons, and no rats stood between them. This is it, she thought with a sigh.

She circled the area, looking for any other doors rather than going back the way she came. Sure enough on the opposite side there was a path with a trap door on the ceiling. She descended silently, watching the monk carefully.

The black floating stone started to glow. Lilitu stared at it and when it was at its brightest, it hit her with a frost spell. It was so cold that it burned, even through the leather armor. She ducked down under the wall, clenching her teeth. Once the pain lessened, she stood back up, this time watching the stone as well as the monk.

The monk was armed with the same sword as the others, but given the fact that he was the sole guardian of Savilla’s Stone, Lilitu figured that he would be much stronger than the others. There was no telling what spells he knew, so it wasn’t enough to stay farther than his sword could reach.

How could she get the Stone with him and the frost stone guarding? One more hit from that thing and she was sure to cry out. She bit her lip when the idea came to her. She tiptoed up the stairs to the altar, just behind the monk. Please, let this work.

She grabbed and dipped him, planting a big kiss on his lips. The monk fell down the stairs, unable to pick himself up once he was on the ground. “Sorry!” She called out, grabbing the Stone and running off with it. She ran up the stairs across from the altar and ran to the trap door.

“Come back with Savilla’s Stone!”

She looked back and saw the monk getting up, his sword drawn. Her paralyzing kiss wore off on him much quicker than she thought.

She saw a ladder and a hatch at the top. She climbed up and pushed the hatch open. It was almost as dark outside as it had been in the monastery. She bolted down the hill and the painful burn of frost hitting her arm told her the monk was still trailing her. She looked back and saw that he was catching up. “N’chow!” How was he able to chase her if he couldn’t see? She wondered if there was some sort of magic he was using to be able to sense where she was.

She started to panic. Her first instinct told her to throw things in his path. That way he would trip and fall if he couldn’t dodge in time, but the path was so clear that if he tumbled down he might knock her over as well, and that would be the end. She bit her lip as she ran. That’s it!

She turned and cut through the forest. Even if he somehow sensed her, there was so much to have to jump over or dodge. She pumped her legs, hoping with all her might that she didn’t run into a spriggan, a hungry bear, or worse a spriggan and a hungry bear. She half hoped the monk would, then felt a little guilty for thinking it. The monk was only doing his job, after all. She certainly would be upset if someone stole a precious stone from her.



By the time she reached the Serano manor, she was ready to collapse. The monk must had long since gotten lost or given up because there was no sign of him. She dug through the snow until she found a small rock and she threw it against Vardas’ window. A light appeared and she saw him for a second before he disappeared and showed up in Lilitu’s old room. He opened the window and lowered a rope.

Lilitu groaned. “Can’t you just open the door?”

“Do you want to explain to Mama what you’re doing here in the middle of the night, looking the way you do?”

Muttering a string of swears, Lilitu pulled herself up the rope. When Vardas stumbled a little from supporting her weight, she nearly screamed. “Don’t you dare drop me or I’ll beat you!” She grabbed the windowsill with one hand and Vardas’ arm with the other and she plopped on the hard floor. She panted, wiping the sweat from her face.

She was surprised to see that her room had gone mostly untouched. Her bed remained neatly made with the same sheets as her last night in them. Little statues of winged women in dark gowns sat on a shelf, caked with dust, but in their original positions. Her chests were shut tight with the padlocks intact and Dolce’s bed still sat in the corner in front of the fireplace.

“So, how’d it go?”

Lilitu looked up at Vardas. “I’m going to smother the Gray Fox in his sleep for this!” She opened her bag and handed him the axe she confiscated. “I had to fight a damn skeleton! And there was a ghost! And monks that were blind, but wielded swords!” She pulled out Savilla’s Stone and set it on her bed. “All that for this little trinket!”

Vardas picked it up, looking it over. “Well, it’s a nice trinket.”

Lilitu huffed. “I’m just glad it’s over with. Oh and if a blind man comes down here looking for me, throw rocks at him until he goes away.”

Vardas chuckled a little before leaving her alone in the room. She laid on the bed, her body worn down but her mind racing. She reached under her pillow and sure enough, a small key was under it.

She sat up and opened a large chest by the bed. The scent of lavender rose up mixed with old parchment. She picked up a stack, bound by a red ribbon. It was one of many attempts at writing. She untied it and read the first few pages and laughed at how unbelievably awful it was. She remembered it being the best thing she had ever written, but looking back it just reflected misery and a deep desire to escape and live a life of glitz and excitement.

And how would that story write now? She wondered. Now that glitz and excitement have shown their costs?



The Gray Fox erupted into a smile as Lilitu placed Savilla’s Stone before him. “Capital!” He said, clapping his hands together. “Now I can see past the palace defenses. It's a good thing the Emperor didn't know they had this stone. He would have had it destroyed or taken it from them and kept it under lock and key in the palace. When I have learned what I need to know, I will call for you again. Let us leave Helvius' house now. He has served me well and deserves his peace.”

Lilitu cleared her throat, tapping her foot.

“Oh, right. Don’t think I forgot your pay. Here you are,” he said, setting a large sack on the table.

She picked it up, looking at the coins. She decided to count it later while cuddling with Dolce. “By the way,” She said as she turned to leave. “Is it true what they say? About your cowl?”

“What do you mean?”

“My brother told me that Nocturnal cursed it. That without it, you don’t exist.”

The elation disappeared from the Gray Fox’s face. He slumped in his seat. “I suppose there is no hiding it from you.” He paused. “No hiding. What a joke! My whole life is hiding. Everything he told you is true. My identity cannot be known.” He paused once more. “I just told you my true name twice, but I bet you don't remember it. You and I have even met before, when I was not wearing the cowl. To your clouded memory he and I are two different people. My own family doesn't even know me. I would give much to be rid of the Gray Cowl and its curse."

Lilitu felt the urge to console in that instant, but refrained. “I see,” She looked away. “Well, I look forward to seeing you again soon. Shadow...ah…”

“Shadow hide me?” He laughed a little. “You bet She will.”

As she walked home, thankful to be done with her job, she couldn’t help wondering when was it that they had met. It bothered her the whole night.


This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Dec 23 2019, 07:46 AM

I promise to edit and extend my comments when I am able to read more deeply. But for now- I just want to say- WELCOME BACK!

It is so wonderful to see you working on your story once more, and I see much to like in this installment.

This is a great take on one of the more spooky quests in the game. What's with those blind priests, anyway? I swear they have noses like bloodhounds and ears like bats!

You did a great job showing us Lilitu's responses to her environment, and how it scared her to the point that she was so angry at the Grey Fox for making her run the gauntlet for a silly stone. Having just completed the Miscarcand quest in the game, I was struck by the similarities between the two quests. Yet my PC wasn't angry at Martin for sending her against a badbutt lich. Instead, it seemed she understood the importance of the Great Welkynd Stone. Thinking about it, it struck me that Martin and the Grey Fox are two different men. Martin was honest and forthcoming about his reasons for needing the GWS, while the Grey Fox was more circumspect about his need for Savila's Stone. I think I'd be pissed too, if I had to go through what Lilitu did to get a lousy stone, not knowing its real value!

Lilitu's interactions with her brother when she got home was hilarious! Typical siblings!

Then the discussion about the Grey Cowl's effects at the end of the chapter was interesting. In game he never struck me as being a chatty guy, and yet here's Lilitu dragging the grief out of him. Huh. That was a great touch.

Exciting chapter!

I guess thieves aren't very good at fighting are they? lol
The part about the rat was a nice (and funny) touch.

Good job

I loved Liltu's breathless encounter in the kitchen, followed by the rat!

Vivica? I wonder who that is?

“Alright,” she said, once past the spikes. “A skeleton, spikes, what else could be lurking in here?”

A ghost.
I loved this. Isn't it interesting that the Ancestor Moth priests are also necromancers? I remember when I did this quest, the ghost was the only one I could not sneak by, because it was literally blocking the tunnel.

By time she reached the Serano manor
I watched Ghost In the Shell: Standalone Complex last week, and one of the companies in it is Serano Genomics. Does Liltu come from a family of micro-machine (nanite) manufacturers?

if a blind man comes down here looking for me, throw rocks at him until he goes away.”

I loved the tension throughout this episode, I could really feel Lilitu’s stress. They only time I did this quest, it turned into an absolute bloodbath. Lilitu showed that the Grey Fox chose well!

That was a close call with the singing monk. I was so nervous that she would attack Lilitu! Then the skeleton battle was nerve-wracking. The fact that she is not an eager fighter in addition to her other skills makes her so appealing.

She pumped her legs, hoping with all her might that she didn’t run into a hungry bear, or worse a spriggan and a hungry bear. She half hoped the monk would, then chastised herself for thinking it. The monk was only doing his job, after all.

I loved this whole thought process. She is such a city girl!


As she walked home, thankful to be done with her job, she couldn’t help wondering when was it that they had met. It bothered her the whole night.

Yeah, that was really creepy. Yikes. I also loved the detail about her attempts at writing. It gave us a hint about her past and made her even more real.

treydog~ Thanks treydog! Its good to be posting again

haute ecole rider~ Poor Gray Fox. He could have explained from the get go what it was for, but that wouldn't be like the sneaky thief at all

King Coin~ The rat was a mix of an in game rat that just hangs around the tunnels and my reaction to wild rodents. Cute from a distance, but no disease-breeders on my feet!

SubRosa~ I haven't seen Ghost in the Shell... is there a Serano Manor there too?

Grits~ My first playthrough of this quest turned out to be a blood bath too. Turns out heavy boots aren't good for sneaking around





Home again, home again, piggity pig.

After a long nap and a refreshing shave, he decided to take a walk around the city before he had to see the Duchess in the morning. He felt relieved as he walked through Crucible. Though the buildings were just as shabby as Bravil and the streets barely paved, he had come to love them. To him, they were warm and welcome. Even a little cozy. He was even considering making it a permanent home while he was in the Isles. That was, if he survived Sheogorath's tasks.

What in Alduin's name did he get himself into anyway? He sighed. At least he didn't have to kill innocent people. That would be truly mad.

A few people were out, though it was well after dark. At a distance they all seemed peaceful...and normal. As much as he was starting to want out at times, he couldn't let these innocent people suffer at the hands of Jygglepuff or whatever his name was.

He was about to head up the street back to Bernice's Taphouse when he saw the blond Imperial who wanted to have a private word with him. He considered hightailing it away from him, but he was spotted. The Imperial smiled a little and walked up to him.

"Ah, I'm glad you came," he said, leading Wrothken back to the statue. "Name’s Hirrus. So, are you interested in earning some loot?"

Wrothken was hesitant to answer. He imagined all sorts of scenarios that would earn him loot and so far none seemed pleasant. However, he decided to see what it was before refusing.

"Sure, why not?"

"Great!" He cried out. He hugged Wrothken tightly before composing himself. "There's a... a simple task. Yes, a simple task that you must perform." He took a deep breath. "This life, it's... well, it's too painful. Everywhere I look, I see death, dying, and decay. When I dream, I see a world without sunshine. I’m constantly on the verge of retching up, or falling asleep, or screaming at someone who doesn't deserve it. I'm just so fed up with it all. Look, there's no point in talking about it. Action must be taken. You must…” He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “I need you to kill me."

Wrothken was stunned. "What? You... no way..." He took a breath. This was unbelievable. He was just thinking about how glad he was to not have to go around killing people! "Why not just... you know... do it yourself if that's how you feel?"

"Have you seen those miserable souls on the Hill of Suicides? Do you think that kind of existence is any better than this?”

Wrothken furrowed his brows. The Hill of Suicides? That implied Sheogorath actually punished people for ending their own lives. It felt cruel, especially considering that would be the only true escape to someone trapped here for their entire lives.

“No,” Hirrus continued. “You must kill me. I don't necessarily want to see it coming. And I want to die here in the city so all these people finally believe me. They'll wish they were nicer,” he said bitterly as he clenched his fists. “You probably want to do it without spectators though, so you don't get in trouble. Best to make it look like an accident. But remember, I don't want to see it coming. Take me unaware."

Wrothken shook his head and when he lifted his arm to move his hair from his face, the man suddenly cowered before him.

"No! Not like this!" He screamed. "Please, no!"

"One...two...three..." Wrothken closed his eyes and counted through clenched teeth. He needed to get back to bed before he accidentally made his wish come true.





As he was heading back to the taphouse, he heard someone shout, "Kick him in the shins!"

He looked around, but no one was nearby. It sounded like it was coming from the roof. He walked behind the building and saw a flight of stairs. He ran up to see what was going on, and was surprised to see Rheyna in the center of a circle of excited people, beating up an Orc twice her size. When she kicked him onto his back, the crowd cheered and toasted their drinks. Rheyna panted heavily, wiping her hair from her face. "Alright, who's going next?"

Rheyna... With everything going on, she had slipped his mind, but with her standing before him, skin glistening with sweat and her hair plastered to her face. He recalled just before he left to get Thadon's Chalice, she mentioned that she liked his innocent look and wanted to get together later... His hand immediately flew to his cheeks. He wondered if she would notice.

"I'll go again," Cutter said, shoving through the crowd.

"You lose on purpose!" the Orc said, brushing himself off.

"He's right," Rheyna said. "Besides, I've already got someone in mind. You," she said, looking at Wrothken.

An Altmer scoffed. "He's not in the group! You can't!"

Rheyna growled. "I can and I will. Come on."

Wrothken froze for a minute, finding him to be the center of her attention for the second time. Again, he was reminded of the stark contrast between her and Atrea. Atrea disapproved of sparring. Apparently, only delinquents did that. What the silly elf didn't understand was that it was a way to bond. He smiled, eager to bond with Rheyna.

He stepped in the chalky circle, remembering his sparring days with his friends. It was several years ago, but once he got in position, it felt like just last week.

He faced Rheyna and, as was customary, at least in his circle, he bowed deeply. Rheyna responded with a slap to his head. The crowd roared in amusement. "What are you doing? We're fighting, not dancing!"

Obviously, she wants to start now... As he lifted from his bow, he threw a punch at her face. She pushed it up, leaving his side perfectly exposed for a hit to the ribs. He grunted, but didn't back down. Instead, he threw a quick jab, hitting her cheekbone.

She stumbled to the side as the onlookers gasped. While she rubbed her head, Cutter shouted, "Go for neck!" The others began to shout where else she should attack.

Rheyna rushed forward, her fist headed for his nose. Wrothken blocked with his right hand, redirecting her punch, and grabbed her wrist and pulled her downward. He then pushed down on her head, making her fall on the ground.

She got up, fire in her eyes. "Oooohhh..." the crowd said. She swung several punches at him and he dodged or blocked each one. Though he was doing quite well, Wrothken was starting to get goosebumps every time their eyes locked. He could feel something different about her. Instead of punching him, she began grasping him. The crowd had quieted down and a quick glance at Cutter's furious expression told Wrothken something was up.

Finally, she spun around with a kick. Wrothken caught it and she pulled him close. His heart pounded out of control as he realized what was about to happen.

She roughly pressed her lips onto his. She pushed him off and said, "Your bedroom now."

He was only too happy to oblige.



Wrothken's mind spun as her lips hungrily covered his face and neck. When they crossed the threshold to his room, Rheyna slammed the door behind them.

"Get your shirt off," she demanded, pulling her clothes off.

He did as commanded and didn't object when she roughly pushed him on the bed. As she explored him, his mind wandered off.

As Rheyna stripped him the rest of the way down, he thought, If only Atrea could see this! I bet she thinks I'm wallowing in misery still. Ha!

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Rheyna began screaming in terror.

"W-what's wrong?"

She cowered in the corner, looking at him with wide eyes. She continued screaming as he took a step toward her. Before he could get another word out, she ripped the door open and ran downstairs sobbing.

He quickly put his pants back on and headed to the stairs, where he could hear her screams.

"He's...deformed!" She cried out.

"Dearie, what are you talking about?"

He heard mumbling and then Bernice's laughter. "Oh, sweetie, that's not deformation. That’s rather common among men."

"It's repulsive!" She made a gagging noise. "I never want to see anything like it again!" The patrons chuckled a little.

Why, oh why did he even think for a second it would end well? His fantasy shattered, he went back to his room. He screamed into his pillow until he tired himself out and fell asleep.



This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Dec 23 2019, 07:48 AM

Oh, it’s great to see Wrothken again!

"Oh for the love of..." Wrothken threw his arms up.

"No! Not like this!" He screamed. "Please, no!"

"One...two...three..." Wrothken counted through clenched teeth. He needed to walk away before he accidentally made Hirrus’ wish come true.

This is hilarious. Poor Wrothken. A simple task, too good to be true!

Then the very promising start with Kalila did not end at all well for him, Wrothken has had a bad day! And thinking about Awour at that moment, now he’s probably stuck imagining Awour laughing at him. Yay for the update, I’ve missed him!!

Finally caught up. Loved Lilitu's sojourn to the east of Cyrodiil, her navigations through family in Cheydinhal, and duty in the mountains.



Now, is that any way to treat a nice, blind old monk that's just looking for a small trinket that he claims was 'misplaced' by a younger member of the order? Lilitu really should have remembered Rule #1: "Do not act incautiously when confronting little bald wrinkly smiling men!" I'm sure the Blind Moth Prelate was all of these.

And then we return to Wrothken. First, he gets asked to kill somebody. Not another person, no, the person doing the asking wants himself killed. And he doesn't want to see it coming. AND it really should look like an accident. I just hope the guy knows how dangerous bath-tubs can be!

Then, Wrothken gets to see something that reawakens an old passion in his heart. And he finds that it's just like riding a, er, learning to swim. Only the fight turns out to be less of a brawl, and more of a crazy seduction.



So Kalila is really just putting on an act? Or has she always been so obsessed with all the gimmicks and extraneous techniques that she's never even experience the basics?

Shame, really. Except for that, she's my kind of woman.

Like Grits, I'm happy to be seeing Wrothken again.

This really isn't Wrothken's night is it? Kalila isn't what I expected at all

There is a Serano Manor. You see it briefly in one episode when the Laughing Man kidnaps Mr. Serano for a second time.

I liked Uungor. But being a Bosmer man is already one huge strike against him in the sanity department. Methinks he protests too much on that score. He is probably the looniest one in Bliss!

What in Alduin's name did he get himself into anyway?
Nice touch, using the old world-devouring dragon's name here.

At least he didn't have to kill innocent people.
Just wait...

Ahh, the rooftop Fight Club. At least Wrothken did not hold back against Kalila. Obviously she likes it physical, considering that she ended up in bed with him! Still, quite a surprise she had! Poor girl. I feel her pain. She needs to stick to women.

I also loved the fact that even when he is getting it on with Kalila, Wrothken is thinking how he wishes Awour could see! I can just hear him thinking in Homer Simpson's voice: "In your face!"


nits:
"Go {the} for neck!"
I think you wanted a 'the' where I inserted it above.

Grits~ He probably was That sort of thought seems to back fire often

Captain Hammer~ Kalila originates from a whole different story. In the version I borrowed her from, she completely devotes her life to her studies becoming a great battlemage, but severely stunted at matters of the heart and others. It ended differently for the love interest in the other story though

King Coin~ In the Shivering Isles, it never seems to be Wrothken's night

SubRosa~ Wrothken's mind: In your face! In your face! In your-- uh-oh! Dammit....




Wrothken woke up at the crack of dawn and slipped out of Bernice's Taphouse. He couldn't bear facing anyone after last night.

He was on his way to meet Syl, duchess of Dementia. As he headed toward the palace door, he hoped his visit with her wouldn't be as trying as with Thadon.

He traveled up the stairs and was surprised to see Hirrus standing at the top. Wrothken groaned and tried to sneak past him. Unfortunately, steel boots make quite a racket, even while tiptoeing.

"Sometimes I come up here to think," Hirrus said sullenly. "Everything looks so small from up here. Makes me feel better, you know? Like I'm not so small myself. But that feeling only lasts for a little while. Then I start thinking about how miserable everything is, and then all I want to do is step off the ledge." He sighed. “But I can’t. Don’t want to end up on the Hill. But I hope that someday maybe a big gust of wind will come and push me off so I can end it all. I often wonder what it'd be like, to fall to the ground so far below. I bet it'd be like flying - - then suddenly falling into a deep, blissful sleep."

"Yeah...." Wrothken said, nervously rubbing the back of his head. "Good luck with that."

"Pfft. Whatever."

Wrothken shook his head. He felt sorry for the guy, but he wasn't going to kill him. He couldn't, no matter how much he begged.



Like their cities, the palace of Dementia was the complete opposite of the palace of Mania. Syl's lair was lit with blue flames, giving off the feeling of cold gloom. There was no party, no feast, and no topless women. Syl sat in the center of the room. She wore a long black dress with spines along the plunging neckline.

"Why do you approach the Duchess of Dementia?" She snapped. "Do you seek death?"

Maybe Hirrus should come by, he thought. Deciding against suggesting that to him, Wrothken said, "Sheogorath told me to speak to you."

"The Madgod sent you, did he?” Syl’s voice lost its edge. She regarded him for a moment. “Then you're safe for now. Speak to no one unless I instruct you to." She walked over to him, leading him down a hallway. "None of them can be trusted. Do you hear me? None! Surrounded by traitors and spies, I am. Always, always." Her eyes shifted around nervously. "They watch and wait, eager to slip a knife into my spine when I'm not looking."

"Who is?"

She led him to a small room and after checking to be sure no one was around, she said, "Could be all of them. Every last one. None can be trusted. But they'll never take me down. Never! I'll see them all rotting in shallow graves before I let my guard down!" Her face lit up slightly as an idea formed. "You... you will help me. Yes, yes. You will be most useful."

"Useful?!" Wrothken sputtered. He was getting sick of being used for other people's dirty work.

Syl didn't seem to notice. "You're going to find out who knows. You're going to learn who keeps secrets, who conspires against me. You will be my Grand Inquisitor." She made a knighting motion with her hand. "Expose the conspirators, and they will be punished, I assure you. Find out who keeps secrets, and what they are. Speak with Herdir. He will help you. Do you understand what is required of you? If no one is found, you will be held responsible."

"I..." He sighed. If he didn't do it, he would still have to answer to Sheogorath and he didn't fancy having his intestines being used to skip rope with. "Okay, fine. I'll find them. Where is Herdir?"

"He is in the dungeon. Downstairs and to the left. Go now and find them."



The dungeon was more of a torture chamber. Instead of traditional cells, there were small cages with spatters of blood on the floor. By each cage, there was a small table with various blades and pincers, each crusted and filthy. By the door, there was a plush chair with a table full of food.

When Wrothken walked in, the first thing he noticed was a bald Imperial smelling a long, serrated knife, touching it almost intimately. He was a bit embarrassed to say anything, so Wrothken just cleared his throat.

Herdir jumped, dropping the knife on the floor behind him. "Oh, oh my!" He smoothed his head, a habit likely left over from when he still had hair. He cleared his throat. "What brings you to this delightful corner of the House of Dementia? How may I help you?"

"Um... I'm the..." He sighed. "Grand Inquisitor."

"Are you? Hmm." He looked Wrothken over. "I'd expected an entrance with a bit more flair." He shrugged. "Ah, well. Perhaps you'll grow into the role. One can hope, eh?" He laughed, nudging Wrothken a little.

Wrothken couldn't help but notice that Herdir was the happiest person he had come across in all the Isles.

"Now, we've much to do. Lady Syl is not a patient woman, as I'm sure you've seen. Shall we begin?"

"Alright, but what exactly should we do?"

“Isn’t it obvious? We need to search through Crucible, looking for these traitors. Talk to whomever might have information. If they’re reluctant to help, you just say the word and I’ll do my best to.... persuade them. Really, we should be going. Her ladyship expects results!”

"Wonderful," Wrothken said. He really hoped the conspiracy, if there was even one, would remain in the palace.



Herdir followed him out onto the palace grounds. He nudged Wrothken and gestured toward a Redguard reading a book. "That's Kithlan, Lady Syl's steward. If I may be so bold, I would suggest we start with him, Grand Inquisitor."

Wrothken nodded. "Alright." He headed over to Kithlan. "Excuse me, do you know anything about a conspiracy against Syl?"

He didn't look up. "I don't know anything about one, but Anya has been acting strange lately. You might want to check with her." He nodded toward a Breton walking along the pathway.

Anya was tall and blond and wearing a beautiful dress. It was deep purple with a bodice that seemed to force her body into an exaggerated hourglass. The skirt poofed out, making her hips appear larger. Wrothken knew Kirsty would love one like it, but he didn't know her exact measurements.

Anya smiled at Wrothken, but when she saw Herdir, her smile flickered for a moment. "Hello, I'm Anya Herrick," she said to Wrothken.

"I'm Wrothken, Lady Syl's..." he sighed. "Grand Inquisitor."

"I, too, serve Lady Syl," Anya said, a light tremor in her voice. "She allows me to remain protected within the House of Dementia. I'm so grateful to her."

She knows something, Wrothken thought. She seemed way too nervous and it sounded as if she were reading from a script.

"Well,” Wrothken said in a voice that he hoped sounded sincere. “As you’re so grateful to her, then you'd want to tell me if there was a conspiracy going on, involving her demise, wouldn't you?"

"What?" She took a fearful step back. "N...No. I don't know anything about anything. I'm sorry, I can't help you." She turned quickly and broke into a run.

"Let me take care of this," Herdir said. A bolt of lightning sprung from his hand and flew into Anya's back.

"What in Oblivion did you do that for?!" Wrothken cried. He rushed over to Anya and helped her to her feet. "I'm sorry, I--"

Anya sniffled, wiping a tear from her eye. "Please. I am not involved... I didn't do anything! They wanted me to get them close to Syl, but I wouldn't abide them!"

Wrothken looked around. The palace grounds were empty except for himself, Herdir, and guards from Mania and Dementia. Given the apparent rivalry between the two houses, Wrothken suspected the Golden Saints or people from Thadon's court.

"Who approached you?"

Anya bit her lip, looking around nervously. "I..." When Herdir came closer, she spat it out. "It was Ma'zaddha," she whispered. "He said he was working on behalf of someone else. He told me I needed to help him, or there would be repercussions." Tears formed in her eyes again and spilled down her cheeks. "I didn't know what to do. Turning on Syl could cost me my life, but if I don't help, what will Ma'zaddha do to me? You must do something!"

"I will, don't worry."

She nodded and wiped her eyes. "Can I go now?"

"Yes, of course," Wrothken said. "Just go on about your business."

With a glance at Herdir, she quickly walked back to the palace.

Herdir chuckled. "Anyone ever tell you you're too soft?"

Wrothken fumed. He had indeed heard that plenty of times from several people. "Oh and it's not a little too much to just attack people like that?"

"It got what we needed, didn't it?"

"Well, it did, but..."

"Just relax," Herdir said, rubbing Wrothken's shoulder. "By time this is over, you might even come to enjoy it a little..."

Wrothken groaned. This was going to be a long day.


This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Dec 23 2019, 07:49 AM