Acadian - The Drunken Dragon is one of those places that I always forget about since it's in such an odd location. It was nice to visit it while I was writing.
Grits - Yep, Jötnar is 100% Nord (for better worse)
Glad you enjoyed it.
Previously - After Atatar, our group of adventurers took a quick break at a nearby inn while Olorin explained what it was that they'd found. Now they return to the Imperial City to finish the task...Chapter 19
It was all quiet in the Imperial City. The taverns had long since closed their doors and the only people still awake were Imperial Guards on patrol, the occasional stray cat, and me. The night air was thick with fog, and the street lamps did little good to light the way. Thankfully my destination was the White-Gold Tower itself, which is about as difficult to miss as a…well, as a really big white tower.
The journey from Atatar to the Imperial City had allowed me plenty of time to write a report for The Blades, mentioning the clearing of bandits at Fort Homestead and the gathering of Argonians in Lleyawiin. It wasn’t as detailed as I’d have liked, and other agents would have written a dozen similar reports already, but you can never have too much information.
My thoughts on the value and/or over-saturation of information came to an abrupt stop when I entered the Imperial Palace District. The feathery spines on my head had begun to tingle – indicating that there was danger nearby. It wasn’t a very specific warning, but I knew enough to heed it and looked around carefully.
The district was made up of two tiers. The lower tier was completely full of graves. The gravestones loomed through the fog and the darkness, as if the spirits themselves were wandering through the grounds. The second tier was a raised walkway which formed a circle around the White-Gold Tower, and it was here that I carefully began to move forward.
As I approached the palace steps, I saw the reason for the earlier warning. An Imperial Palace Guard lay on the ground. His silvery white armour, inlaid with red dragons and gold studs, still gleamed in the moonlight. A vicious looking dagger was hilt-deep in his ribs. The blood pooling around his torso was still warm to the touch, indicating that the attack was recent. I looked around, but even my sharp eyes couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
A shout went up from inside the palace and I immediately drew my bow. Then, heaving on the heavy oak doors, I went to see what was happening.
It was chaos. The bodies of several guardsman lay scattered about the immediate area, and alongside them were other corpses which were dressed in hooded red robes. I nocked an arrow and crept further along the corridor, stepping over more and more bodies as I went. Then, I found them.
A group of Blades warriors were holding the door to the council chambers against a group of attackers in strange black armour. It looked similar to the armour worn by Dremora, warriors of the Daedra, but these attackers were clearly human and I watched as one was cut down by a katana. The black armour hissed and vanished in a puff of sulphurous smoke, leaving behind a red-robed corpse.
I personally dealt with another two, and when the second fell with an arrow in his back, the fighting was done. I stepped out of the shadows and the Blades all levelled their swords at me.
“Talos.” Said one, clearly the leader.
“Plaza.” I replied. A password used by the Blades in emergencies, which this definitely seemed to be.
The Blades visibly relaxed, and most turned and marched towards a set of stairs which lead higher into the tower. The muffled sounds of fighting could be heard from above.
Of the few that remained, the man I identified as their leader stepped forward to greet me. I retrieved my identification badge from my pocket and he nodded in satisfaction.
“Knight-Captain Arturius Guiniverius.” He introduced himself loudly, saluting as he did so.
“Agent Haa-Rei.” I said quietly, though I still saluted. We were more or less the same rank, even though he was part of the warriors and I was a spy. If anyone could tell me what was happening, it was him.
“The palace is under attack from an unknown force. We are currently in the process of assessing the damage and clearing the area.” Almost as if he’d read my mind, he continued. “The Emperor is safe.”
I nodded. I didn’t need to ask about the Emperor’s sons.
“If you want to help, go to the Prison District.” He said quietly. This was as close as he could get to giving me an order, so I nodded and took my leave.
I’ve never been sure why I joined the Blades. They all seem very loyal to the Emperor, but at that moment I wasn’t sure if I cared all that much. I’d never met the man, and I doubt I could even recognise him. The death of his sons still made me sad though, and I also felt concerned for the man himself. For why, I do not know, but I was making my way to the Prison District. What would the assassins hope to find there?
I stopped to assist an Imperial Guard in the Market District, who was doing a good job of attracting every assassin in the area to him. The assassins were shamefully under-trained and under-equipped. Their conjured armour was little more than an illusion, and offered about the same level of protection as their red robes. Their weapons were slightly better, but they too were conjured with a weak conjuration spell and consisted entirely of daggers. My Dwemer sword had a much longer reach and the attackers soon fell.
The guardsman sat himself down on a nearby crate and nodded his thanks while he tried to catch his breath. I nodded back and made haste through the Market and onwards towards the prison.
How many of these assassins are there? Where in Oblivion are they coming from?At last the prison loomed ahead of me. Some guardsmen had barricaded the bridge and let me pass only after I’d shown them my badge. The bodies of several assassins lay a few feet away, feathered liberally with arrows.
The Prison seemed to be all quiet, and the spines on my head had stopped tingling. Nevertheless I readied my bow and crept down the stairs.
Time to see what they’re after.This post has been edited by hazmick: Jul 9 2016, 01:12 AM
"If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world."
"...a quotation is a handy thing to have about, saving one the trouble of thinking for oneself, always a laborious business."