I would just like to announced that I've officially written over 100 pages of text for this story! While I don't think my story is long enough for another 100, I still feel quite proud of myself. This has been the longest piece of work I've ever written and I'm so happy about all the positive comments I've been recieving from everyone. It has certainly inspired me to make sure I finish this piece, in order to satisfy all my readers. Thanks again, here's the update:

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Savlian stood outside the gates of Kvatch, a retinue of Town Guard surrounding him. Town banners, which hung off the gates and the lances some of the guards were carrying, fluttered in the slight breeze. Savlian intended to give Ormellius a good impression of what Kvatch truly was, and that they would certainly intend to protect him. Given Ormellius’ service in the Legion, he couldn’t possibly be corrupted as well. Savlian hoped it was so; he didn’t know if he would survive if he had to serve under another corrupted ruler.

Minutes later, Savlian could see a large party of riders travelling up the twisted path that ended where he now stood. Sunlight reflected off the steel armour of the armoured soldiers as they surrounded a rider that wore no armour. With every moment of their ascension, anticipation rose in Savlian. He now hoped that things would start turning around in this town now with Vernon dead and Hlodir banished from the city. If Ormellius turned out to be much like his brother, there would be no simple way to get rid of him, next to committing the crime himself. There would be no assassin wanting redemption for this man to take advantage of. Of course, this all depended on whether Ormellius was indeed like his brother. Savlian was soon to find out about that.

Ormellius was a hard looking Imperial. His jaw was square with a small chin, while his lips were a thin line across his face, which certainly looked like one not prone to smiling. His dark brown hair was still quite solid in colour, but a few flecks of grey speckled his temples. His presence still exuded power and strength from Savlian’s perspective. Savlian was impressed to say the least as he rode forward to greet the new Count.

“Greetings, milord! Captain Savlian Matius wishes you welcome to Kvatch,” Savlian said in a respectable manner, placing his fist to his heart in a soldier’s salute.

“Thank you, Captain,” Ormellius said, returning the salute, “We have much to discuss, don’t we?”

“Indeed we do, but for now, let us escort you to your new home,” Savlian responded. He then signalled to begin the procession and open the gates.

A company of Town Guard led the procession, followed by Savlian riding beside Ormellius and his company of riders, and the rest of Savlian’s greeting party brought of the rear of the procession. Savlian rode silently beside the new Count, who was equally silent. His eyes scanned the new environment; much like a hunter would scan a forest, absorbing every possible niche of the town. Savlian studied Ormellius as he did this in his peripheral vision. Ormellius certainly exuded a soldier’s mentality, something Savlian thought would be good for the town.

It wasn’t long until the procession reached the castle beside the barracks. It was there that both the front and rear procession broke off to return back to their duties and Savlian followed Ormellius and his company into the courtyard of the castle. It was here that Savlian chose to address Ormellius once again.

“Sir, would you like to be briefed now, or would you like to settle in first?”

Ormellius dismounted from his black steed and faced Savlian. “I would prefer to speak right now. Would you lead me to somewhere we can do this?” he asked.

Savlian nodded and headed into the castle, Ormellius following in tow. He led him past the dining room, through several hallways and finally into Vernon’s old study. This room wasn’t used all that often, as Vernon wasn’t one prone to read books, especially those more focused on laws, regulations, and commerce. Vernon had had his own agenda for those topics. Savlian felt it was ideal to begin the new reign here.

Savlian set out chairs for both Ormellius and himself. They sat down facing it each other, each examining the other, judging their character. It was Ormellius who spoke first.

“I’m sure you, like myself, are relived that my brother is no longer ruling this town. I have to let you know that since I heard about Vernon’s succession in becoming Count, I have been keeping my eye on the activities going on here.”

“Well sir, I know there has been problems here for quite a wile, but I would like to let you know that I did everything I possibly could to ensure the safety of the citizens of this town,” Savlian said seriously.

“I believe you. I’ve noticed the decrease in problems as soon as you were named Captain of the Guard. No one but Death would’ve been able to completely stop Vernon given the position he was in. If you interfered with his plans enough, he would’ve had you killed,” Ormellius said sincerely.

“He recently tried to, shortly before he was murdered. Fortunately, with him gone I think it’s safe for me to get back into my home,” Savlian said, releasing a dry chuckle.

Ormellius didn’t share the laugh. “As for that murder. What’s the situation on that? I know that there has been someone murdering your men, but this seems unrelated,” he said, fixing Savlian with a tough stare.

Savlian paused for a moment. What should he say? Should he tell him everything he knew? Or something that would satisfy Ormellius? He did tell Simion that he would go free if he did not commit anymore murders…

“We think the Dark Brotherhood was involved in the murder of Vernon. It makes sense that someone in Kvatch, obviously upset with being overtaxed, asked the Dark Brotherhood to take out Vernon. We don’t know if we’ll be able to narrow down suspects to find who paid for the job. As for the Town Guard murders, it’s dead cold. Whoever has been doing them has been really clean. We haven’t caught a single clue. It does seem that our preventative methods are working though. There hasn’t been a murder is a few weeks. We think we’ve scared them off,” Savlian said evenly, sounding like he was giving a report. He was used to lying to Counts it seemed.

Ormellius nodded absently. “Well it’s good that whoever killed your men has stopped. Unfortunate that you couldn’t catch them though. And I certainly don’t feel like pursuing the Dark Brotherhood; they’re too elusive for us. I guess that’s all we need to speak about,” he said, extending his hand across the table, “Good work, Matius, I hope you continue your excellent work.”

Savlian shook the extended hand and smiled. “It’s simply a part of my job, sir,” he said, and rose out of his chair and began to exit the study.

“Wait a moment, Captain. I forgot about one issue,” Ormellius said quickly to get Savlian’s attention.

Savlian turned around. “Yes?”

“It’s concerning Hlodir, my party and I ran into him on our way here. Fortunately you warned me in the letter you sent me, as I sent him scurrying away. I want you to bring him down. He rode north from where I ran into him.”

“Follow me to the map room and show me,” Savlian said, waiting for the new Count to follow him out.





Hlodir was furious. How dare that stuck-up soldier deny him! He was pivotal to the success that was Kvatch! Without his help, how could Ormellius become rich? The fool! Just for upsetting him, he was going to make him pay. Savlian too. He had a personal grudge against the Captain of the Guard, and him breaking his nose didn’t help end it. Yes, he had something special planned for Savlian. It just so happened that he ran into his special ingredient on the way back to his hideout.

“Valrus, welcome t’me humble abode,” Hlodir greeted the robed Altmer, waving his arm across the abandoned fortress he now called home.

Valrus sniffed the air. A disdained look came across his face. “Smells horrid! But I guess it is better than a cave… most of the time,” he said bitterly.

Hlodir laughed boisterously. “You’ll get use t’it me friend, you’ll get use t’it. But now we have some plans t’discuss and it’ll require your “magical” expertise,” he said, smiling slyly. Indeed, they were going to pay.

Hmm, I don't know if lying to your new count is such a good start but then again, I don't think that talking would have brougth good results either.

Hlodir is up to something sneaky. When it involves mages, things are going to get messy, very messy.

Congratulations on reaching 100 pages. This fan here will happily read it till the very end.

excellent update MM and congrats on reaching 100 pages. Hlodir with a mage and a posse of followers(I'm assuming he has peoples) in an abandoned castle with multiple grudges... thats not exactly a good thing.

Should be interesting, congratulations on reaching 100 pages by the way.

I'll be looking forward to the next update as well so keep em coming.

Great MM! You´re doing very well really. Now this was a good read, I enjoyed reading it! Keep up the good work here!

Thank you for all the congratulations guys, and gals. Your present: another update!! Happy you are, yes?

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Savlian spent almost an hour in the map room with Ormellius, pouring over maps of the surrounding area around Kvatch. They focused their concentration to the area Northeast, as that was where Ormellius ran into Hlodir, and it was the direction he ran off to once his altercation with Ormellius was done. The problem was that there didn’t seem to be anywhere suitable for Hlodir to reside. The only thing Savlian and the Count could come up with was that he had set up a camp in the wilderness with his men.

Frustrated with the lack of headway, Savlian was forced to dismiss himself from the Count to see to his daily duties. Ormellius understood, and told him that he would continue to look at the maps for a possible location while Savlian was gone. It was ideas like that that had Savlian impressed in just the few hours Savlian had met the new Count. Ormellius displayed a determination that Savlian had only seen in his men before now. He knew now that things were going to start to turn around in Kvatch. No longer would a blanket of suppressed fear cover the citizens of this town. With Ormellius and Savlian working together, Savlian knew they would be able to bring about a new age for Kvatch.


When Savlian entered his office in the barracks, he found that it wasn’t empty. A Dunmer sat on a chair that was at one of the corners of the room, a placid expression on his face. The Dunmer wore red robes that were quite well made, but dirty from obvious travel. His red eyes glowed with a calculating look. What did stand out the most was a large, black tattoo that covered most of his face. To Savlian, it looked like it resembled a hand; a hand that he believed that he had seen before.

Even sitting in the crummy chair, the Dunmer still exuded an unknown sense of command. It was as if his presence filled the room, yet his demeanour was calm and relaxed for the most part. The Dunmer rose from his chair, an apologetic look on his face.

“Sorry for just appearing in your office, the guard told me I could wait for you in here,” he said, extending a black gloved hand, “I’m Sethyas.”

Savlian shook the extended hand. “Captain Matius. What can I do for you, Sethyas?”

Sethyas’ expression hardened. “I would like to report a missing person. A friend of mine, you see,” he said, worry tingeing his words.

Savlian took out a piece of parchment, a quill, and some ink. “All right. I’m going to need some information on the missing,” Savlian said evenly, turning to the Dunmer, “I’ll need his name, race, and roughly his age, build, and appearance.”

“His name is Lavos Saren. He’s a Dunmer like myself and he’s around 100 years old, so basically he looks like he’s 32 translated to human years,” Sethyas stated, taking a breath, “As for his appearance. He’s of slender build, about 6’11, messy black hair. He generally wears dark robes. He also has a tattoo similar to the one on my face, only it’s on his arm. Hmm, what else?”

Savlian stopped writing once he heard about the tattoo. He now remembered where he saw it before. Slowly, he put down his quill and faced Sethyas, his expression grim. “I’m sorry that I have to be the one to give you this information, but I think we’ve all ready found Lavos. We found him dead in an alley; someone had attacked him. We haven’t been able to find out who he was, as he is a stranger to this town but your description matches the body. I don’t think many people have that hand tattoo,” Savlian said regretfully.

Sethyas sat there silently for a few moments, eyes cast away from Savlian at the floor. His expression was unreadable, but Savlian thought he noticed anger surging through the Dunmer’s eyes.

Finally, Sethyas spoke, his voice hollow. “Do you know who did it?”

Savlian had a good idea who it was, he never asked if Simion committed that murder though. “No we don’t, who ever did it, didn’t leave behind any evidence. It looked more like an assassination since there was only one wound on the body and no signs of self-defence,” Savlian decided to tell him.

Sethyas rose from his chair, his face solemn. “Thank you for letting me know, Captain, but I’ll leave you to your duties now,” he said quietly and began to head for the door.

Before the Dunmer could leave, Savlian said, “I’m sorry for your loss. I’ll make sure to do my best in finding who killed him.”

Sethyas nodded absently before closing the door behind him. His footsteps quickly faded down the hallway.

Savlian leaned back into his chair, as thoughts came storming through his mind. Savlian had a good feeling that he was just speaking with another assassin. Savlian had surmised that the Black Hand tattoo was a sign associated with the Mephala praising Morag Tong. This Dunmer, sporting such a tattoo right on his face, was associated with the dead Dunmer with the tattoo on his arm. Putting two and two together, Savlian believed their association was based in the Guild. Yet, there was something more to Sethyas than just being an assassin. Assassins are usually ones who wanted a low profile. There seemed to be a mix between that and someone who drew attention simply with his presence. It was really perplexing to Savlian.

Feet pounding along the hard concrete floor interrupted his thoughts. The sound was getting louder and suddenly a guardsman burst through his office door, panic clearly evident on his sweaty face.

“Sir, the treasury is under attack! Some of it is in flames!” the guard said urgently.

Savlian lurched from his chair and quickly donned his armour and equipped himself with his broadsword and dagger. “Let’s move!” he shouted at the guard as he rushed out of the office towards the treasury.

Hmm, Sethyas made his appearance. Well done, his prescense was truly visible.

Treasury in flames? Hmm, this sounds like a case of: ,,If I can't have it, no one can!" I think I know who did it.

Treasury in flames...gee I wonder who did that?

As for Sethyas, nice atmosphere he exuded there! makes me wonder what he'll do next! No folks, I'm not savvy to the rest of the story, I would'nt want to know, it would spoil these great updates.

And it sounds like Ormellius and Savlian are working well together, hopefully Kvatch has at least some turnaround before some irratable neighbors throw down the ebony gauntlet!

great update... and the treasury is on fire? that can't be good.

After your recent contribution to the tale of Sethyas, I felt I needed to finally wade into this already long story. I'm really glad I did, because I've found it quite exhilarating. Having read this entire story today, I'm dreading have to wait for updates like everyone else has done all along. I've really enjoyed your very visceral descriptions of each combat/killing, and the incredible depth you've brought to our favorite guard captain. I'm looking forward to your next update.

Treasury on fire...well that isn't very nice at all is it. Haha great work again and I just noticed that you are a fellow Canadian as well! All hail the Canucks! (Not the hockey team, I am a Sens man myself ) But let us get back on track shall we? A great addition and a well deserved congrats on the milestone of the 100 pager!

Ah yes MM....and meeting Sethyas huh? Oh aye....a great update...well as usual I must say.....


S.G.M

....[cough]ToldYaSo![/cough]

**Looks around innocently**

What? Wha'd I say?

I'm sorry for being a little late with this update folks. The usual day I write was missed since I went to an open house for a college I'm interested in attending. Plus, this update is a bit longer than my usual ones, just a bit. I would just like to welcome those who have just recently started reading this after my collaboration with Black Hand. Hopefully you'll enjoy this as much as you've enjoyed reading Black Hand's great fic. I again express my thanks to Black for allowing me to do that.

And for Taillus: Yea, Canadian pride! You must find it a bit annoying that the Sens have been kinda up and down so far this season. At the moment though, they look like they're getting their act together. Personally I'm a fan of the Alberta teams, even though I live in Ontario. Eh, I'm weird like that.

Ok, without further delay, here's the update!

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Exiting the barracks, a squad of Town Guardsmen met up with Savlian, swords drawn. Savlian simply continued on in the direction of the treasury, hoping that they would understand to following. The echoing of metallic footsteps on the cobblestone proved Savlian right.

It didn’t take much to know there was a problem in the city. Dark smoke bloomed above the rooftops west of the barracks, where the treasury was located. As Savlian got even closer, he began to pick up the sounds of fighting.

Savlian rushed across the corner of a building and the scene was then displayed before him. Thugs, equipped with various sorts of weapons and armour, none of which were of excellent quality, were engaged with Town Guardsmen who had arrived first on the scene. Savlian took a quick survey of casualties, noting that two guards were down while about 4 thugs were sprawled on the cobblestones. He also noticed the thugs that weren’t fighting were busy dragging gold and septims from the burning treasury.

Savlian pointed to a group of Guardsmen. “You men! Stop those taking the gold. The rest of you, engage the enemy!” Savlian shouted and charged towards the thugs.

Savlian went straight for the Imperial that was giving one of his men a difficult time. Before the Imperial knew what happened, he found himself staring at the steel piercing his chest before his eyes went dim. Savlian turned to the Guardsman. “You all right? How many are in there?”

“I’ll be okay sir, just need a breather,” the guard replied, wiping the sweat from his face, “As for how many; I didn’t get a decent count, but I’d say around thirty.”

Savlian nodded. “You get your breather, but I want you back in there helping out ASAP.”

Savlian decided to see who was inside the building, two guardsmen falling in beside him to back him up. Savlian caught a thief by surprise as they attempted to leave the treasury with an overhead slash bringing them down, spilling his desired spoils on the ground.

Entering the treasury, they were immediately engaged by thugs waiting to ambush them. Unfortunately for them, their ambush was outnumbered 3 to 2. Savlian and his men easily out classed their attackers in swordsmanship, resulting in a quick dispatch. Savlian continued on through the hallways of the treasury, dark smoke swirling above their heads.

Savlian began to notice that, excluding the noise of crackling flames, the noise of the surroundings had become awkwardly silent. Savlian slowed from a quick trot, to a wary strafe, casting his eyes in every direction possible for danger. The guards with him quickly followed suit by watching each other’s backs.

The heat from the fire steadily began to rise as Savlian approached the foyer ahead, causing sweat to crawl down his spine. An amber colour emanated from the room, crawling along the sides of the wall as Savlian approached the open doorway. From within, stood three bodies, two of them looking like the sort they had previously ran into. The other one, looked to be robed, but they stood further back from the rest that Savlian couldn’t study the person any better. The radiating heat waves shifting the image of the robed figure didn’t help.

It seemed that one of the thugs noticed Savlian and his guards approaching. “Oh no! Captain Matius is here to do us in! Run for the hills men!” the thug mocked, a wry smirk on his face, “Here’s a message from Hlodir: ‘Kiss me british boat!’”

Savlian’s eyes narrowed. So Hlodir was behind this! It seemed he left Kvatch with a grudge on his shoulder, one that he didn’t want to release. Savlian intended to spoil Hlodir’s little escapade.

Savlian broke into a quick trot towards the taunting thugs, their jeers becoming more and more obscene. Both guards trailed behind him, keeping pace with Savlian. It was as he entered the foyer that he realized he made a mistake.

Just in front of the foyer doors was an adjacent hallway. As Savlian entered the foyer, thugs waiting in ambush intercepted the trailing guards, cutting them off from Savlian. Before Savlian could turn around, the foyer doors closed and a wall of flame erupted in front of them. Savlian was trapped.

He turned around instantly and intercepted the downwards arc of one of the thugs’ sword. Expertly, Savlian parried the blow, using his momentum to spin around his opponent and score a deep slash to the exposed chest of his attacker. Crimson oozed from the corners of the thugs’ lips as he collapsed to his knees before falling to the floor.

The other thug, no longer issuing taunts, warily made his way towards Savlian. He held two daggers, one in each hand, and circled Savlian. Meanwhile the flames danced along the walls, which was strange since none seemed to be spreading into the middle of the foyer.

Suddenly, the thug lunged in with a quick stab with his knife. Savlian stopped the blade and made a swipe himself, to which the thug nimbly dodged. The thug went for the kill again, this time swinging both blades in a cascading pattern. Savlian backed away from the frenzy of attacks, parrying with his sword when he needed to.

A well-timed elbow to the face after a parry by Savlian sent the thug backing away, watery eyes blurring the following strike which ended the life of the thug.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Savlian turned to head back to the doorway to figure out a way to get out and hopefully help out his men. His decision was interrupted by the sound of applause coming behind him. Savlian turned around and faced a robed Altmer, who was clapping his hands slowly. A smug look was on his clean shaven face, but his eyes were hard with not a touch of softness to them.

“I must admit, Savlian. You do wield that broadsword effectively. But, as my employer wants you dead, I must obey,” he said indifferently, raising his hands as arcane energies began to glow upon them.

A hedge mage! Savlian thought, ringing alarms within his head. This was very unexpected of Hlodir to do. Never once had Savlian come upon information that Hlodir was in league with anyone with capable magic use.

The Altmer gestured, a bolt of fire went rocketing in the direction of Savlian. Savlian rolled across the floor, the fireball exploding against the floor where Savlian had previously been.

Rising to his feet, Savlian quickly closed the distance between himself and the Altmer. He decided he wanted to finish this mage off as quickly as possible. With all the strength he could put behind it, Savlian swung his sword at the defenceless Altmer. At least, he thought he was defenceless.

The blade stopped short of landing on the body of the Altmer; instead it felt like Savlian had just hit a concrete wall with his sword. Recoiling in pain, the mage took advantage by grabbing a hold of Savlian’s arm, sending waves of electricity shuddering into Savlian’s body.

Savlian convulsed in pain, the electricity not even allowing him to voice his anguish. Eventually the grip from the Altmer was released allowing Savlian to collapse to the floor. Fighting for breath, Savlian returned to his feet to see the Altmer simply standing there, the indifferent look still upon his face.

“I thought this would be challenge. Not only are you a fool to think you could strike me, but now I know you certainly have no chance in defeating me,” the Altmer said sadly, raising glowing hands once more, “Ohwell. Time to end my fun.”

This time lightning arched from the fingertips of the Altmer, streaking their way towards Savlian while casting a blue light throughout the room. Savlian leapt to the side, landing on the floor heavily, hair standing on end from the amount of energy issued from the attack.

Dammit! I’m a walking lightning rod! Savlian thought angrily as he managed to kick off his boots, feeling the warmness of the wood upon his feet. While the flames were obviously being suppressed by some magical mean, it was still frightfully hot within the foyer.

Savlian had managed to shed a gauntlet when a quick succession of fireballs came soaring in his direction. Savlian managed to bob and weave past the barrage, but afterwards he thought he caught the scent of burnt hair.

As the mage formed another spell within his hands, Savlian tried a desperate move in throwing his dagger at the Altmer, which harmlessly smacked against the invisible shield surrounding the mage.

The mage couldn’t suppress a chuckle as he readied his hands. “Stop wasting your time,” he said smugly.

A new tactic formulated within Savlian’s mind. He decided to rebuttal. “It seems you’re the one wasting your time. Wasn’t I supposed to be dead by now?” Savlian asked in a mocking tone.

The smug look on the mage’s face quickly changed to a twisted expression. “You mock me!? You don’t understand the dire situation you are in, Savlian,” the Altmer managed, barely suppressing his true reaction.

“I actually feel quite safe, the fact that I’ve been in a burning building for 10 minutes and feel fine is attributed to you and your selflessness,” Savlian said, in the same mocking tone.

The Altmer screamed in fury, unleashing another barrage of fireballs. This time, Savlian took off at a sprint, running around the room to avoid the constant barrage of flame. The impacts of the magical attacks were beginning to cause the structure to weaken, as debris began to fall from the ceiling, cascading down in fist sized chunks.

Finally, the attacks stopped at Savlian saw the mage panting and heavy in wreaking breaths. A flickering light suddenly surrounded his body briefly before blinking out. The shield was gone.

Winded himself, Savlian strode across the room to the mage, defenceless since his magicka reserves were depleted.

“Tsk, tsk. You’d think one such as yourself would have control over their emotions. Is it not correct for the mage to master their mind before they master magic?” Savlian asked, still managing to use his mocking tone.

The mage visibly seethed in fury, picking up Savlian’s dagger and raising it to strike. But Savlian was prepared and lashed out with his broadsword faster than the mage expected. The blade went cleanly through the skull of the Altmer, and continued to sever the raised arm. The body crumpled to the floor, blooding immediately began pooling along the floor.

Savlian turned his face away, suppressing the urge to throw up. It was then that he noticed that the flames were no longer being suppressed by any magic. With the adrenaline from battle fading, Savlian began to notice how short of breath he was, and that each breath was beginning to burn. He needed to escape and escape quickly.

The doors out for the exit of the foyer were blocked by flames, but Savlian mustered the strength to pick up the body of the nearby thug, and charged through the flames, breaking through the door.

Savlian dropped the body and collapsed to his knees, each breath was beginning to be painful now. Smoke stung his eyes and he managed to rise to his feet and trudge through the hallway towards the exit of the treasury.

His vision was starting to fade and blur as he felt he was nearing the exit. The heat was so intense; it was as if his feet were aflame. Yet he still moved them, unable to accept defeat or death. Hlodir was not going to beat him with this!

With two final steps, Savlian could see blue sky and clouds through the haze of the smoke. It was then that blackness greeted him.


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Expect another update sometime Saturday. I'll actually be writing since I won't be missing my writing time. Honest!!

Ah, a tactic used by Savlian, worthy of a Sethyas Assassination! Nicely written as always!

In the tavern of “The Flying Bosmer”, Sethyas Valus scanned through the latest edition of the Black Horse Courier. Emblazoned on the front page were the words ‘TOWN GUARDSMEN KILLED DURING SIEGE UPON TREASURY’. Supposedly, a large group of bandits had suddenly appeared and attacked the Kvatch Treasury. Reports stated it was a mage that led the attack and started the fire. Though the mage and most of the bandits were killed once the Town Guard arrived, there were casualties on both sides. The Courier reported that at least 5 Guardsmen were killed, but their names were not going to be released.

He momentarily thought of the Guard Captain he spoke with the other day. Surely he would’ve went to the treasury. The man was courteous enough that Sethyas hoped he wasn’t one of the casualties at the battle. Even if he was an Imperial, he seemed a decent enough person. Sethyas shook his head sadly as he folded up the paper and placed it on the table. It seemed as though Sethyas had arrived during a time of turmoil within the city of Kvatch. There was more going on here than Simion murdering Lavos as well as some Town Guardsmen. With the recent demise of the Count of Kvatch, there seemed to be someone taking advantage of the confusion created from the Count’s death.

Sethyas’ breakfast had gone cold from the time spent reading the paper and mulling over its contents. He pushed his plate aside; he had lost his appetite anyway. He looked up from his table and noticed Taris Dren walking over to his table.

Taris was a young Dunmer that was tall and lean, but wiry. His black hair was slick back over his head and shined with scrib grease. Taris was the son of the now deceased leader of the Commona Tong, Orvas Dren, and nephew to Duke Vedam Dren. To say he was different than his father would be an understatement. While he still held some sense of Native Dunmer tradition, as he did serve the Morag Tong honourably, he did not share the same ruthlessness and criminal activity that Orvas displayed. Sethyas enjoyed the fact that Taris was against slavery the most, a trait they both shared. It was also surprising to see Taris join, since it was the Morag Tong who finally disposed of his father.

Taris greeted Sethyas quietly and pulled out the chair opposite of Sethyas to sit down in.

“Sethyas, I’ve found him! I know where he lives,” Taris whispered excitedly, his youth still evident.

Sethyas kept his relief to himself. It had taken much too long to find him. “Excellent. Now I want you to go find the others and bring them back here. We have plans to discuss,” Sethyas said, dismissing the assassin.

Taris nodded before leaving the tavern. Suddenly, Sethyas felt hungry again.

Step 1 is down. But how many are left to go?



Blinding sunlight greeted the opening eyes of Savlian Matius. Savlian caste his eyes with a hand to fend off the glare and he sat up in an infirmary bed. Looking around, Savlian realised he was back in the barracks, in the sick bay to be specific. He also realised that his armour had been stripped and he was dressed in plain clothing.

He stretched his unused limbs and immediately stopped as pain jarred him. The top of his left shoulder was still sore after having magic applied to it to heal the burn he had suffered. Gingerly moving his arms, Savlian made his way out of the sick bay and headed for his office.

On the way he passed solemn faces of guards, who smiled slightly upon seeing him. They all voiced their happiness in seeing the Captain up on his feet again, but their joy was subdued by the death of fellow Guardsmen who didn’t survive the attack. Savlian appreciated their remarks and also their grievances over the deaths of their fellow brethren. Too many of them had perished so recently. Savlian silently vowed to make a change of that.

Once he arrived in his office, he changed into his Captain’s attire. On his desk, he found reports on the damages done to the treasury, casualties, and eyewitness reports. The treasury had completely crumbled in the fire, but much of its contents were recovered after the flames subsided. There was an estimated loss of 23,700 septims in materials, excluding the building. The serious loss though was the death of five Guardsmen. Their deaths felt heavy upon Savlian as he thought that if he stopped Hlodir when he should’ve, this could’ve been avoided. Savlian couldn’t help but let a few tears of frustration escape from the corners of his eyes.

A knock sounded on his door. Savlian quickly brushed the wetness from his eyes and told whomever it was to enter.

An Imperial Guardsman entered slowly. “I’m sorry to bother you after you just get out of sick bay, but last night we found something we thought you should see,” he said apologetically.

Savlian strapped on his broadsword, which he was surprised to have found clean, and followed the ushering Imperial.

“What did you find?” Savlian inquired as they made their way out of the barracks.

The Imperial paled slightly. “It’s difficult to describe, but it’s a body. We thought it best that you see it though. You might know what to make of it.”

Savlian was troubled by the Imperial’s words, but kept silent as they progressed into the centre of the town. The stench of sulfur was still noticeable in the air from the burnt down treasury.

They finally arrived at an alleyway in the centre of the city; a guard was all ready waiting for them there.

“Glad to see you moving about Captain,” the guard said greeting Savlian.

Savlian nodded in appreciation, but wanted to get to the point. “What have you brought me down here for, Jurik,” he said, addressing the guard.

Jurik motioned Savlian to follow him into the alleyway, which Savlian complied. As soon as they entered, Savlian picked up on the scent of blood. He was starting to become begrudgingly familiar with it. Eventually, the sight of a body sprawled on the floor greeted them.

The man was Imperial, or possibly Breton. From the sight of what little clothing could be seen, they looked like rough leather rags, stained with dirt. The man’s face was unkempt, a grizzly beard surrounding his face. The man had been violently attacked. The most visible wound was that the man’s throat had been spilt wide open, dark blood covered most of the chest of the man. Savlian saw what looked like severed fingers scattered in a bloody mess around the body and a mass of muscle that Savlian was quite sure was a tongue. The image sent chills down Savlian’s spine, whomever did this, was indeed ruthless with this poor man.

Something was tugging at Savlian’s memory though. This man seemed familiar somehow; as if he had seen or met him before. It didn’t take much thought afterwards for Savlian to remember that this man was a homeless man named Madsen. Madsen was the one who basically opened up the case when Savlian was still trying to figure out who was murdering his men. Madsen had given a visual description of Simion after Simion supposedly transferred blood onto him after they had spoken with each other.

This image also reflected the same kind of brutality that Simion inflicted upon Vernon.

Jurik had seemed to catch onto that when he posed a question. “Do you think whomever did this, also did in Vernon, Cap? They look quite similar, don’t you think?”

Savlian nodded his head absently, his thoughts overcome with troubling images.

“By the Nine! We seem to have two serial killers on the loose here, Captain! Though it does seem that our methods in deterring that one whose after us seems to be working,” the Imperial added.

Savlian snapped out of his reverie. “That seems to be the case. I want you two to perform an investigation on this scene here. I want all the details you can possibly get from this. I expect the report to be on my desk ASAP, but for now, I need to see the Count,” Savlian ordered before leaving the two Guardsmen to their duties.

Savlian was overcome with distress when he exited the alley. Was Madsen’s murder simply a coincidence? Was there a copycat killer out there? Or did Simion find out that Madsen was the one who gave up Simion’s description? There indeed was a problem with that last option. If Simion was still murdering people, there was obviously something mentally wrong with him. No one in their right mind would pass up a get out of jail free card when they were simply told to not kill anymore. It was unsettling to know that Simion might be behind this.

He would have to find out sooner or later. For now, he had Hlodir to deal with.

It just doesn't end, does it? You know, I do feel bad for Simion somehow. He doesn't want to kill, yet he can't stop himself from doing it. It is sad, really.

Oh yeah, I still have to congratulate you on an excellent update.

Is Simion still out there? Is Hlodir about to be slapped with the edge of a ticked off Captains broadsword?

Find out the answers to these questions in the next great update!

C'mon! Post Machine it up and out!

Bravado (or somethin like that), I like it MM, please post summore. now, what will Hlodir do without his mage.... he seemed to be the best of the bunch (ability wise, not personality)

The houses in the middle class area of Kvatch glowed amber from their windows to fend off the night’s darkness. One such house did not though. It basked in the darkness, shrouding itself in its embrace. Within, Simion Mandrake sat in isolation at a table, staring down at a pair of bloody gloves.

He had done it. He had killed again; he had thought he could avoid doing it now with Vernon dead. Yet, he couldn’t resist the opportunity he had. It had presented itself perfectly clear, as if taunting him. He had to take it. Nothing would’ve changed his mind.

At least, that’s what he thought at the time. Now, he only thought of the wrath Savlian was going to enact upon him if he discovered that he was behind the murder. He had broken his word about killing again, and Savlian was certainly not going to allow him to continue living peacefully if he found out. Why did he even do it? He had achieved his revenge and yet he stilled murdered an innocent this time. The event was still etched in his mind…


Simion had been enjoying the disappearance of the voice within his head. Since his little “visit” with Vernon, it had stayed silent and its presence had begun to fade away as the days since the murder increased. It seemed that Savlian had kept his end of the bargain, as there had yet to be a single Town Guard snooping in his area. It was amazing what some people would sacrifice to abolish tyranny. Without the presence of the voice, he now felt the guilt that accompanied the deaths of the guardsmen he killed. At the time, all he could think about was getting Vernon, but now, the innocents he had killed to get what he wanted plagued his thoughts. With victory, there was always a price to be paid it seemed.

Life had to continue though, so Simion intended to persevere. In fact, he decided to take a nighttime stroll around town. He always had preferred the night; many years of using it to his advantage in the Morag Tong had made him accustomed to it.

His footsteps echoed off the cobblestones, the late night air was crisp, but refreshing for Simion. He was looking forward to living a simple life. For once, his normal could finally be normal.

After rounding the corner of a closed smithy, a homeless man approached him.

“Spare any change, good s-,” the man began, but suddenly went silent, his eyes widening.

Simion then realised he was face-to-face with the homeless man that he often talked with. Only this time, for some reason, he was now afraid of him. Simion decided that it was from the wanted posters of him, which had fortunately been taken down now.

“Sorry there, did I startled you, Madsen?” Simion said apologetically.

“Uh-uh yes you did somewhat,” Madsen stuttered, his face now perspiring.

Simion was starting to get the impression that something was wrong. “Are you all right man? You’re not looking to well.”

“F-f-f-fine! I’m great. So great in fact, that I don’t even need any money and you can be on your way!” Madsen said, spilling the words out as quickly as possible.

“Ok…have a good night, Madsen,” Simion said slowly and continued on down the street. It was unsettling how uncomfortable Madsen was around him.

An all too familiar feeling then swept over him. A sudden throbbing within his head began to slow down the pace of his walking. Simion’s mind raced. It was back!

“He’s so afraid of you because he knows!” the Voice hissed to Simion.

Simion despaired within. It couldn’t be back! He had satisfied it. Why would it come back?

“I am never satisfied, Simion, you should know that,” the Voice sneered, obviously enjoying itself, “What I need you to do right now though, Simion, is to make an example out of that bum. He’s the one who gave your description to the guards. I know it!”

“How do you know that?” Simion whispered out loud, still re-familiarising himself with the throbbing in his head.

“Think about it. The night that those two guards set you up, the last person you saw was the bum. Shortly after that, the posters went up. Don’t you see, he’s suspicious of you!” the Voice hissed angrily, sending waves of discomfort to Simion.

Simion clutched at his head and crouched down, eyes tightened in pain. Then they the flipped open, shining with a dangerous intensity. “You’re right,” he whispered.

Simion slowly pulled out his dagger, concealing it underneath his cloak. That fool could’ve ruined everything! For that, Simion was going to make sure that Madsen wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Simion noticed that Madsen had taken position with his back to an alleyway, the poor man. He was soon to find out what to truly fear about Simion!

Simion stalked into an alleyway nearby, and detoured through it to get to the one Madsen occupied. Simion edged closer to the back of Madsen, his feet once echoing the cobblestones now silently caressed them. All the wile, the Voice whispered encouragement and its thirst for blood. Soon, Simion could smell the stench of living on the streets on the man, an unpleasant but necessary thing Simion had to endure to get what he wanted…

“Blood!” the Voice screamed ruefully.

It was then that Simion wrapped an arm around the neck of Madsen, clamping his mouth with a free hand. Simion dragged the now flailing man into the alleyway. Simion kept a tight grip though, and used his dagger to stop him from struggling.

“You think I wouldn’t find out, Madsen? I could read the fear in your eyes like a book!” Simion hissed in Madsen’s ear before throwing him against the wall of the alley and delivering a blow to the gut that winded Madsen and caused him to collapse to the floor groaning.

“It’s time to teach you a lesson in how to keep your mouth shut,” Simion said quietly, his eyes glinting in the moonlight to reveal a sadistic image.

Simion managed to pry open a Madsen’s mouth, and with his other hand he grabbed a hold of the man’s tongue. A quick pull, followed by a gurgled cry of agony, Simion stood with a piece of bloody muscle in his hand. Madsen moaned in pain and blood readily poured from his mouth.

The sight was rapture! The moonlight reflecting on the pool of blood forming on the alley floor captured its essence perfectly. Simion studied the bloody object in his hands briefly, drinking in the sight. This was exactly what he wanted!

“This is only the beginning, Madsen,” Simion whispered and he leaned in to put his knife to Madsen’s hands…




Simion didn’t want to visit it any further. He threw the bloody gloves across the floor disgustedly. Hopelessness of the situation began to claw at Simion’s mind. He simply had submitted to the Voice within him so easily.

“As you should’ve, Simion. Because I was right! Madsen deserved death!” the Voice said, sending Simion reeling to the floor.

“It is over between us! Vernon is dead! You’ve got what you wanted. Why must you pester me?” Simion complained weakly.

“Just because I got what I wanted, doesn’t mean I’m satisfied, Simion. My thirst is unquenchable, my motivation constant, I will break you if I have to, Simion,” the Voice threatened.

“I will endure, I’ve done it my entire life, I will do it now!” Simion shouted defiantly.

The response he received was waves of sense melting pain and discomfort, causing Simion to cry out in pain and topple over the table beside him. Finally the pain subsided and Simion was able to breathe again in heavy, ragged breaths. The Voice’s laughter echoed in his mind.

It was then that a knock came from his front door.