Madness Helps Me Save Myself Options

[ghastley]

I usually choose to help the Mazken, too. I just like their attitudes better.

That's why I picked the Saints and made them follow Mirel's recommendation to go through the underdeep. I figured the survivors would learn the lesson better than those who missed most of by being dead.

[King Coin]

Wrothken finally encountered the Priests. I had a mage character that wore the Priest of Order garb.

I choose to help the Mazken as well. Aureals didn't impress me with their arrogance. I remember being surprised at the ending of this mission when the Mazken sacrificed herself on the alter. Thinking back on it, it really shouldn't have.

Very good chapter. Haskill is hilarious.

[Grits]

I’d be delighted to look at pictures of your characters on TV. I’m in the same situation; a screenshot means a snapshot of my TV screen.

I enjoy Wrothken’s mental asides as he deals with the sarcastic Haskill. I felt bad for Wrothken, stuck in a battle that didn’t concern him, just trying to get his task accomplished. I felt like I was right there with him this whole episode.

[SubRosa]

Wrothken's first battle with an Order Obelisk. I wound up running away my first time, as I could not figure out how to deactivate it. I never think to summon Haskill to find out how things work.

Since he hadn't met a Golden Saint that he liked, he approached the Mazken.
I suspect this is a feeling shared by everyone who goes to the Isles...

I loved Wrothken's exasperation over the feud between the Sexy Seducers and Boondock Saints. Can't you just light the cursed thing and get it over with? Noooo, of course not. It is another wonderful example of how divided and screwed up the Shivering Isles are.

Haskill is of course, his ever fun self: "Do you want an honest answer?"

[Jacki Dice]

haute ecole rider~ I always pick the Mazken as well. The Golden Saints are just too... well you know. Female-doggy.

ghastley~ Good point, but if they're that stuck up after thousands of years, then maybe they're beyond learning

King Coin~ I was surprised as well. I kinda wanted to save her from it, but if it made her happy...

Grits~ It would be an incredibly annoying situation. Luckily it was an even match, rather than him being sent off to fight the Golden Saints alone!

SubRosa~ I rarely summon Haskill during gameplay, just check out the UESP site. It doesn't backsass me

~~~~~♥~~~~~

Chapter Twenty-eight: Rituals and Rules

Everyone in New Sheoth stared in awe of Wrothken as he headed down the roads. Even the Golden Saints reacted with slightly less attitude than normal, though Wrothken wondered about how they would behave if they knew he had sided with the Mazken at Cylarne. He was directed to the center of town, up a long flight of steps to a sanctuary, where the flame was to be relit.

Sacellum of Arden Sul

Like Sheogorath’s Palace, it was split down the middle. A set of pews sat on opposite sides with a pulpit in front of each. An altar stood in the center, with two men at each side. One wore a red robe and the other wore green. They looked amicable enough, but Wrothken could feel the tension between them.

When the men noticed Wrothken, they nearly shoved each other over for the chance to greet him. The red robed man reached him first, leaving the other to sulk away.

“You've brought it! The holy Flame of Agnon, the fire of Inspiration and Rapture! If you light the Great Torch on the Mania side of the Sacellum, you will be a hero to the people of Bliss, I assure you!” He shook Wrothken’s hand, apparently aware that the flames would not burn. Wrothken couldn’t help wondering why they had that little nugget of knowledge but no one bothered to mention it to him in the first place. “I am Dervenin, High Priest of Mania. Welcome to the Sacellum of Arden Sul.”

Dervenin

Wrothken nodded. “You said I’d be a hero of Bliss… wouldn’t it be for all of New Sheoth?”

Dervenin chuckled. “Oh, heavens no!” He pointed to a cage on his side of the Sacellum. “One side will burn for Bliss, the other for Crucible. Trust me, you’ll want to light the flame for Bliss. Those bottom feeders wouldn’t be able to appreciate its glory!”

“Wait just a second,” the green robed man exploded. He walked over to them, his blue eyes blazing with fury. “You decadent lot are the ones too stoned out of your mushy minds to feel a thing!” He turned to Wrothken. “Forgive me. I am Arctus, High Priest of Dementia. I see you burn with the purging Fire of Agnon, the flame of Truth, the flickering beacon of hope in the gloom of despond! Come, light the Great Torch for Dementia. Illuminate the conspiracies! Deepen the shadows! The people of Crucible await their Hero!”

Arctus

Wrothken looked at each man, both of them practically squirming.

“Can’t I just light them both?”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Dervenin said. “Once you step into the Great Torch, the flame will leave your body entirely, lighting the way for your chosen city. Now, are you ready to repent of your actions in Cylarne, and light the Great Torch for Mania?”

“Repent?” Wrothken asked, his eyes widening. Did he know that he had sided with the Mazken? How could he have found out so quickly?

Arctus shook his head, patting Wrothken’s shoulder. “Don’t allow that heathen to guilt you. You'll uplift the poor, suffering folk of Dementia with the Flame, won’t you?”

Well when he put it like that….

He looked toward Crucible. If he did light it for them, Bernice would be sure to see it. And frankly, she was the only one he felt any sort of attachment to. Besides, all Sheogorath cared about was that the damn thing was lit.

“I’ll light it for Dementia.”

Dervenin growled while Artus broke into a wide grin. It looked rather painful. “You are truly Demented, as I always suspected,” he said. “Release yourself to your secret fears and desires. Let them rule you, as they must in the end! Now, light the Great Torch as a beacon for those who fear and those who inspire fear. Right this way,” he said leading Wrothken to the Dementia side. He swore he saw Artus stick his tongue out at Dervenin from the corner of his eye.

Wrothken stepped into the cage momentarily and the flame seemed to melt off of him and onto the altar.

“The Great Torch flares with the light of Dementia!” He boomed, his arms spread out. “All of Crucible will be celebrating tonight! Here. Take this. The reward you have earned. Quickly now. It's best if no one knows you wear this.” He thrust a folded black suit into Wrothken’s hands.

He couldn’t help wondering where it came from, or if it would even fit, but he accepted. “Thank you, its very… soft.”

“Aren't you off to a good start?”

Wrothken jumped at the sound of Sheogorath’s voice, so much that he dropped his new clothing. “That's important,” he continued. “For me. Really, your work is going to save me a lot of time.”

“Dammit!” Wrothken growled, picking up the finery. “Can’t you warn someone when you’re about to pop up like that?”

“And take the fun out of it? Don’t be silly. We don’t have time for silliness! The Greymarch is upon us, and the Ordering begins. Armies of Order sweep My Realm.” He made a sweeping motion with his hands. “Death. Destruction. Then I have to pick up the pieces. And there are always lots of pieces. I don't like it, having to rebuild My Realm every era. Sometimes I forget where things go. Like New Sheoth. I can never remember where it belongs.... You'll change that. Break the cycle. You'll stop Jyggalag, and I'll have My Realm to come back to. I've never actually tried that before.”

Wrothken sighed. Every time he was sent out on some journey to supposedly stop the Greymarch, things got out of hand. Wrothken felt that it was all hanging by a thread finer than spider’s silk. How much longer until someone came in with a broom and broke it away? “Are you positive that I can do this?” He asked.

“Why not?” He shrugged. “Something has to work. Once, I dug a pit and filled it with clouds.” He tilted his head. “Or was it clowns?” He shook his head and waved his hands. “Doesn't matter. It didn't slow him down. To be honest, it wasn't the best idea. And it really began to smell funny.” He snapped his fingers. “Must have been clowns. Clouds don't smell bad. They taste of butter! And tears. But, this is all new! A fresh idea! Something I hadn't thought of, until I did. It's sure to work, even though it might not.”

Wrothken should have known seeking reassurance from Sheogorath would be like seeking wisdom from a goblin. “So what now?”

“Now? You'll need the respect of My citizens. They'll need a leader, someone to look up to when I'm gone. They're the backbone of any great land.” He paused. “Except where the backbone is an actual backbone. Ever been to Malacath's realm...?” He asked, crinkling his nose. “Nasty stuff.”

Wrothken made a face of disgust as well. If Sheogorath said it was bad, it was probably a thousand times worse than imaginable.

“But, back to the business at hand.” Sheogorath said. “You'll need to control one of the Courts of Madness. Replace a current Duke. Or Duchess. Whichever. That will command respect! The people will rally around you. You'll have their love, their admiration, their complaints! Whatever. As long as it keeps them on our side.”

Wrothken furrowed his brows. “Won’t Syl or Thadon be upset at my having to replace them?”

Sheogorath waved his hands. “No. No, no, no. Absolutely not.” He pursed his lips. “Well... yes. Absolutely. Bit of a shame for them. But, sometimes you need to break a few eggs. Or skulls. There are rules, though. Even in the Isles. Rituals and rules. You need to follow them. Speak to Arctus and Dervenin, the High Priests here at the Sacellum Arden-Sul. They can explain what needs to be done. And you've always got our man Haskill to call on for help. Faithful like a good hound, that one. And he looks better in a suit.”

Wrothken sighed. Rituals and rules. What could possibly be required? Painting himself with grummite blood and dancing naked in the full moon? Or rolling in animal waste and yowling like a cat in heat in the center of town?

He approached Dervenin, who was giving him a dirty look. “I'm disappointed in your choice. Why you would choose to honor the fetid madness of Dementia is beyond my understanding.”

“I don’t doubt that. Can you explain the ritual for becoming Duke of Mania?”

“Oh, looking to redeem yourself, are you?” His smile returned to his face. “An important part of our history, my friend! I would be glad to tell the tale if you have a moment.”

“Sure, why not?” Wrothken took a seat at the pulpit.

“Arden-Sul was perhaps the greatest Duke to walk our land. Many years ago he decided to hold a night of absolute indulgence, resplendent with dance, wine, and sex to celebrate his fondness for his brethren. The Greenmote flowed like water in a stream as the revelers voraciously succumbed to its rapturous ways.”

“Okay…”

“As the bacchanal reached a crescendo, the people began to clutch their chests as their very hearts exploded! The Greenmote had taken its toll. The ground stained a deep crimson as the sanguine liquid flowed from their lifeless bodies.”

“By the gods,” Wrothken said, a look of revulsion on his face.

“To represent that night, when the ruler of Mania is to be replaced, he partakes of the Greenmote and allows his lifeblood to flow upon the Altar.”

“You want me to what?”

“Not you, Thadon. When the ruler of Mania has decided it is time, he will choose a successor from his court. The successor is invited to a huge celebration... a night of hedonistic revelry; wine, song, and, of course, Greenmote. During this, the exiting regent imbibes three doses of the potent drug. This causes his heart to burst... and his lifeblood flows from his body. The successor then gathers the drug-tainted blood and brings it to the Altar of Arden-Sul in the Sacellum. Once this is done, I will proclaim the successor a Duke or Duchess. Then, Sheogorath gives His blessing, and the cycle is completed.”

“That’s…” Wrothken tried to hide his disgust. “You know, I better talk to Arctus.” Before Dervenin could object, Wrothken sped over to Arctus. Convince Thadon to kill himself with a greenmote overdose? Sure! And afterwards, Wrothken could talk Haskill into helping him braid his hair.

“Well, if it isn’t the Hero of Dementia!” Arctus said, clapping his hands. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“Yeah, could you tell me about the ritual for becoming duke of Dementia?”

“Seldom is the subject ever bro-... wait a moment, did you want to hear the history of the Ritual?”

“You mean the sex, drinking, and greenmote?”

“What?” Arctus looked aghast. “No, that has nothing to do with Arden Sul! As if he would act in such a manner.”

“Alright, fine. Tell me the history.”

“As it happened so many years ago, my lord Arden-Sul suspected a traitor in his midst. Not wishing to find himself on the wrong end of a blade, he gathered his flock here in the Sacellum. By poisoning the sacramental wine, Arden-Sul was able to suppress any such conspiracy in one fell swoop.”

“Sounds like something Syl would do.”

“Yes. He then removed their hearts from their bodies and used his ancient scrying technique known as visceromancy to read their lifeblood. When Arden-Sul couldn't divine the traitor's true nature in their hearts, he became distraught and took his own life in the same way. From that day on, the Ritual of Accession for the throne of Dementia was set. To become ruler of Dementia, the current leader's heart must be cut out and brought to the Altar of Arden-Sul in the Sacellum. Once this is done, I can pronounce the heart-bearer a Duke or Duchess. Then, all that is required is the blessing of our lord, Sheogorath.”

Wrothken’s jaw dropped. Gathering vials of blood or human hearts? Whatever happened to simply naming a successor?

Wrothken approached Sheogorath. “You're back! How nice for you. Does that mean you've made a decision? Or are you lost? Suicidal? Just let me know.”

“Speaking of suicidal, there’s problem with this. Both priests' stories involved the current ruler committing suicide.”

“And?”

“So, shouldn’t you be talking to Syl or Thadon?”

Sheogorath rocked back and forth on his heels. “Well, the thing about that is that their suicide must be brought on by your hand.”

Wrothken thought about it for a moment. “You mean you want me to kill them.”

“You got it! See, and Haskill says you’re as smart as a rock. I told him that he doesn’t give you enough credit. You’re at least as smart as a grummite.”

There was his limit. So far, he had rationalized everything he had to do by being thankful he wasn’t being asked to murder anyone. “And smart enough to get out of here.”

“What?” Sheogorath nearly fell back. “Where are you going? You can’t leave! The Greymarch approaches!”

“Don’t care. Screw you, screw your Greymarch and screw the Isles.”

Sheogorath took a sharp breath, his eyes livid. “You dare to disobey me?!” He shrieked, raising his cane. “I'll have your skin made into a hat -- one of those arrowcatchers!” It began to glow red as he pointed it at Wrothken. Wrothken backed up. His heart was pounding so hard it hurt. He knew Sheogorath was going to kill him for this. It was unavoidable. He stared hard at the eyeball resting in the cane, gritting his teeth and preparing for the worst.

“What he means, Lord,” Haskill interjected, standing in between them. “He needs more time to consider this. It’s a lot for his mortal mind to consume. Give him some time and he’ll be back.” Haskill looked at Wrothken. “Won’t you?”

Wrothken was shaking, not just out of fear, but out of anger for now being indebted to Haskill. That was not going to be fun. “Yes.”

“Oh,” Sheogorath’s anger faded as quickly as it came. “Then why didn’t you just say so? Be more clear for crying out loud! I nearly killed you! And that wouldn’t have been nice for you, now would it? Would have been nice for me. I love those hats! Just don’t take too long considering. I hate indecision! Or maybe I don't. I like the sound of other things, though. Like birds. And bones cracking.”

Wrothken didn’t say a word as he left the Sacellum. There was only one place he could think of to clear his head and get reasonably sane advice on the whole situation.


This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Dec 23 2019, 08:02 AM

[mALX]

I am loving these screens you are adding to the story! There are always funny lines when Wrothken is aboutt, lol. My favorite line in the story:

Seldom is the subject ever bro-... wait a moment, did you want to hear the history of the Ritual?”

“You mean the sex, drinking and greenmote?”

"You mean like sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll?" ROFL !! Great Write !!!

[King Coin]

Bah! Which one to choose?! I'm betting he'll side with Dementia...

He did! But not for the reason I suspected. Bernice.

“And take the fun out of it? Don’t be silly. We don’t have time for silliness!

Does he actually say that?! I never noticed how funny that line is until just now!

Hey it sounds like Wrothken just might be leaving the isles.

Excellent chapter. I very much enjoy this story.

[Grits]

He couldn’t help wondering where it came from, or if it would even fit, but he accepted. “Thank you, its very… soft.”

Wrothken’s reactions to things can be so funny. I’m glad he stood up for himself at the end, and even more so that it didn’t cost him his life. I hope he’s going to talk to a busty Bosmeri baker, even though it’s a pretty long walk.

[SubRosa]

Everyone in New Sheoth stared in awe of Wrothken as he headed down the roads.
As Richard Pryor once said: "When you're on fire, people get out of your way!"

I love the two priests jockeying for the position of who get lit. In the end, Wrothken's decision to light it for Bernice was not only perfectly in character, but so delightfully adorable.

We don’t have time for silliness!
Blasphemy!

You'll have their love, their admiration, their complaints!
Yep, that is rulership for you, except the real thing lacks the first two!

You’re at least as smart as a grummite.
Oh, now there is a compliment alright!

So Wrothken finally reached his breaking point with Sheo and the Isles. Unfortunately, he is in too deep to back out now. After all, where can you hide from a daedra lord? I trust he is off to Bernice, to try to find a way to rationalize who is going to kill. My money is on Syl, but you never know.

[Jacki Dice]

mALX~ If it was Rock n Roll instead of Greenmote, Wrothken definitely wouldn't mind so much. In fact, he'd love Bliss more!

King Coin~ That little part with Sheogorath was actually made up It was a natural response since he does actually seem to pop up out of nowhere once the flame is lit.

Grits~ Everyone has their breaking point though its too bad it wasn't with someone rational. Good thing Haskill calmed things down.

SubRosa~ Wrothken's affection for Bernice is one of the best parts to write about. And it flows right since he did save her life from whatever it was she had.

~~
I was able to create some screen shots. They're not as good as they would be for pc but they work

~~~~~♥~~~~~

Chapter Twenty-nine: Kirsty in Love

Almost everyone knew about what went on in the basement of Sheep’s Clothing. Where most stores kept extra supplies in their cellars, Sheep’s Clothing was set up with a round table and several chairs. A deck of playing cards and stacks of round colored disks sat in the center. A chart of the latest arena combatants was nailed to the wall with a list of names and amounts of septims bet. The door had a small peephole so only the right people could get in. After all, no one wanted the count to officially find out about all the untaxed gambling going on.

As Lilitu sat across from the Gray Fox, she couldn’t help wondering if she could accomplish the same underground area for members of the Thieves' Guild. Only instead of gambling, they could exchange tips on how to pick locks and where the best places to hit were and they would have a safe place to sleep at night and food to eat. It would be like any other guildhall.

“My work with Savilla's Stone has revealed that I need something special for my plans,” the Gray Fox said. “It's a small item in the possession of a powerful court wizard. Will you do this for me? I will pay you well.”

Lilitu knew that was true. She glanced at her new leather ankle boots with the copper buckles going across. And she still had coin left over! Still, was it wise to steal from a powerful wizard? Well, if she could escape an entire cave of Blind Moth Priests, a single wizard wouldn’t be too much harder. Besides, how could she say no to him? “Alright, tell me more.”

“Capital!” He grinned, clapping his hands. “Bring me the Arrow of Extrication. It has a key shaped head.” He passed a drawing of it to her. “Bravil's court wizard, Fathis Aren, recently acquired this unique item. You may kill Fathis if necessary, but not in the castle. My spy network will tell me when you have it. Return here with the arrow when you do.”



The last trip reminded her of all the things she had forgotten to pack. A spare set of clothes, scented cream, and her makeup joined her dagger, map, compass, and usual supplies spread along the couch. She felt better about leaving this time, though it was probably because she was bringing Dolce along. While getting Savilla’s Stone, Dolce had been listless, hardly getting off the couch and fussing when it was time for her walk. Apparently the only time she had perked up was once Lilitu was in the gate.

Lilitu smiled at her dog, cooing to her. “You look so cute in your armor!”

Dog Armor

Dolce snorted and plopped on the ground as if to disagree.

“Well, you can either wear the armor and go with me or be naked and stay here.”

Dolce let out a loud yawn.

Lilitu went back to packing her bag when there was a knock at the door. Dolce stood up and started barking. Lilitu threw a blanket over her things and opened the door.

Yyaevonnte stood there, his expression unreadable.

“Well, if it isn’t the fastest man in Tamriel. What brings you here?”

He smiled slightly at her comment. “I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”

Lilitu nodded and stepped aside for him. “Dolce, don’t even think about it,” she said, noticing the dog starting to bare her fangs. She growled a little and slumped back into her bed.

Yyaevonnte took a seat at the table and looked around, the same look on his face as Kirsty’s when she had first come in. “So I guess we can tell what your favorite color is…” When Lilitu sat down he sighed deeply. “We need to talk about your friend.”

“Which one?” She took out a piece of parchment and a quill. “And what did they steal?”

“Kirsty.”

Lilitu set her quill down. “What?”

“Capaneus.”

Lilitu groaned, not bothering to conceal her disgust. “He is not my friend! And what do you mean he’s stolen Kirsty?”

“You haven’t heard the rumors?”

“What…” She paused, tilting her head a little. “I did hear that he had a girlfriend… a rather beautiful—Oh dear gods, she isn’t!”

“Oh, she is. It’s been about a month, she says.”

Lilitu shook her head. “Alright, so what’s it got to do with me?”

Yyaevonnte folded his hands. “What do you know about Daedra worshipping?”

She laughed a little, thinking of Vardas. “More than some.”

“Well, it turns out that this guy has been filling Kirsty’s head with stuff about Mehrunes Dagon. Know anything about him?”

Lilitu nodded. “Enough to know he’s not one to toy with.” She paused. “Why?”

Yyaevonnte buried his face in his hands for a moment. “This guy…” He took a slow breath. His hands shook a little. “He told Kirsty that Mehrunes Dagon is coming to cleanse the world.”

Lilitu raised her eyebrows. “What?”

“Oh, it gets better,” he said, raising his hand. “According to Capaneus, Mehrunes Dagon will spare his followers and only his followers.”

“I see where this is going.” Lilitu shook her head. Cults were always popping up. Most of them were just charismatic creeps with a need to control. Though Capaneus sure fit the bill, Lilitu didn’t believe he was the real deal. Someone like him dealing with Mehrunes Dagon? He was certainly a slimy little oaf, but not dangerous. Not bloodthirsty... right? “Kirsty doesn’t believe that, does she?”

Yyaevonnte looked at the floor for a while. “Kirsty is like the little sister I never had. She’s got such a heart and when she loves someone, she loves hard. And this guy has a way with words like you wouldn’t believe. I swear to you, I’m not a gullible man, but if he were to tell me that he was the emperor’s pregnant mistress, I don’t know that I’d disbelieve it right away.”

Lilitu stood up, exhaling deeply. “Well, I could use a drink right now. How about you?”

Yyaevonnte nodded.

She opened her cabinet and took out a small white jug and two goblets. She poured a glass for them both before returning to the table.

Yyaevonnte smelled it before taking a small sip. “Hmmm…” He looked into the glass, sniffing it once more. “What is this?”

“Shein, imported from Morrowind.”

Yyaevonnte took another sip. “So, as you can imagine now I’m extremely worried for Kirsty. I’ve seen the kind of thing these…” He took a large gulp of shein. “Cultists can do. Especially Mehrunes Dagon cultists. They’re so bad that Emperor Septim actually had his statue taken down and banned from Cyrodiil.”

Lilitu swirled her glass. “Listen, I can understand and believe me, I’ve had my share of… experiences with a Daedra worshipper, though thankfully he never got deeply involved with this one, but I’m not quite sure why you’re telling me this. While I pop in for a pastry every so often, I’m not close to Kirsty and I’m definitely not close to Capaneus.”

“So, talking to her is out of the question, huh? I guess it’ll be up to me then,” he said, standing up to leave.

Lilitu waved her arms. “No, no! You can’t do that!”

“What?” He sat back down. “And why not?”

“Haven’t you ever been in a relationship with anyone else sticking their nose in it? All you’d accomplish is pushing them together. It creates this romantic notion that it them against the world. Trust me on that, if you trust nothing else I say.”

“Then what can I do?” Yyaevonnte grumbled. “I can’t just leave her with him, poisoning her mind with that stuff!”

“I know, I know…” She began chewing her thumb as she stared out the window. “Is there anyone she’s really close to? Someone she normally listens to?”

“Wrothken. And I have no idea where he is.”

Lilitu lowered her eyes. “Alright. Then all you can do is just be there and be happy he hasn’t started pushing you out of the picture entirely.”

Yyaevonnte clenched his jaw and folded his arms. “And that’s all? She can be in danger and I’m just supposed to sit and wait it out?”

“If you want to be sure she’s safe, then yes. Trust me on this.”

Yyvaevonnte grumbled a little under his breath before sighing. “I guess if I have no choice.” He stood up. “I’m only doing this because you seem like you know what you’re talking about.”

As Lilitu walked him to the door, he said, “You know, I think I’ll try and get a permit to have him deeply checked out. At least I’ll know a little something about him.”

“Just be discreet about it,” Lilitu said.

She watched him head towards the Fighters Guildhall and then her eyes drifted toward the Iron Champion Bakery. She couldn’t help worrying about Kirsty. As hard as it was, she had to follow her own advice.



Lilitu stopped by the Iron Champion Bakery on her way out of the gates, just to get a basket of pastries for the road. At least that’s what she rationalized.

She looked around, scanning the room for Capaneus. Her stomach soured when she saw him at the bar, Kirsty fawning over him. She took a deep breath, reminding herself why she was there.

Upon seeing Lilitu, Kirsty rushed over to her. She was absolutely beaming. Capaneus caught Lilitu’s eye and winked, grinning that boyish grin of his. Dolce woofed softly, obviously uncomfortable.

“Lilitu, I haven’t seen you in a while,” Kirsty said in a bubbly voice. She didn’t wait for Lilitu to respond. “He has got to be the sweetest, funniest guy I’ve ever met! And he’s cute, isn’t he?”

Lilitu literally bit down on her tongue for a moment. “Well, he’s not my type,” she said. “But as long as you’re happy, right?”

Kirsty looked at Capaneus with a soft smile as she rocked on her heels. “Yeah… So can I help you with anything?”

“Just a pastry basket and some ham slices. Dolce and I have a long trip ahead of us.” She knelt down and scratched the dog’s ears. “Don’t we, baby?”

Dolce didn’t respond with her usual bliss. She continued to stare at Capaneus.

“Alright, it’ll just be a second. Why don’t you have a seat with Capaneus?”

“I better not. You saw how Dolce got last time.”

“Oh,” Kirsty looked down at the dog. “You’re right.” She chuckled. “She looks pretty cute in that armor.”

Lilitu left as soon as she received the basket. Before walking out the door, she glanced back at Kirsty. She had immediately returned to her original position with Capaneus. Lilitu closed her eyes. Kirsty, be careful… please.



This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Dec 23 2019, 08:05 AM

[King Coin]

Kristy a Mythic Dawn cultist!? Now Wrothken REALLY needs to get out of the Shivering Isles and get back to Kvatch.

The dog armor is hilarious! Don’t give BethSoft any ideas, or else there will be the Official Dog Armor DLC.

Good Chapter!

This post has been edited by King Coin: Jul 17 2011, 08:28 PM

[SubRosa]

The Grey Fox is back? Capital!

So Fathis is next on the chopping block. I hear he has a taste for red-heads, so Liltu is a shoe-in.

The dog armor is so cute! I just hope it will be enough to protect Dolce in their upcoming adventure.

Kirsty became a cultist? And I thought Wrothken was with all the crazy people! That picture of her is, well, oh my. Someone get her a crane to hold those things up! Hopefully Kirsty is just acting, and has instead gone undercover for the city guard to expose the cult.

[mALX]

SPEW !!! ROFL !!! GAAAAAH !!! The dog armor ... .... .... SPEW !!!! ROFL !!!! GAAAAAH !!! There goes my monitor !!! I LOVED this !!! It is very hard to read when your eyes are streaming and rolling on the floor !!! Great Write !!!

[Grits]

I see why a corset top wouldn’t work for Kirsty. Although maybe a feather enchanted one…

Dog armor, oh my goodness. I love the conversation with Yyaevonnte, his mannerisms seem so real. Wrothken needs to come home soon!!

[Jacki Dice]

King Coin~ It would be adorable to have dog armor in Skyrim! Of course first they would need to let us have a dog... -hint, hint, Bethsoft...-

SubRosa~ Ah but crazy people lurk all over Cyrodiil and some people are like magnets to them

mALX~ Couldn't you just imagine a tough dog sulking because it looked too cute?

Grits~ Feather enchanted clothing would be quite helpful for her Maybe then she wouldn't get so messy when baking

~~~~~♥~~~~~

Chapter Thirty: Lilitu and the Mage

Greetings, novitiate, and know first a reassurance: Mankar Camoran was once like you, asleep, unwise, protonymic. We mortals leave the dreaming-sleeve of birth the same, unmantled save for the symbiosis with our mothers, thus to practice and thus to rapprochement, until finally we might through new eyes leave our hearths without need or fear that she remains behind. In this moment we destroy her forever and enter the demesne of Lord Dagon.

Kirsty sighed, looking up from the book. As hard as she tried, she just couldn’t get into it. She would read the words but had no recollection of what she had just read. It simply made no sense. It was like reading the rantings of a crazy man.

“Greetings, novitate,” she said, trying to read it aloud. “And know first… blah, blah, blah.” She shut the book and set it on her night stand. “This is ridiculous.”

When Capaneus spoke of Mehrunes Dagon, he did it with such a passion that it was easy to get wrapped up in it. He was so certain that it made her certain that what he said was true… until she was alone. Looking back on it, it seemed outrageous.

She leaned back in her bed, staring at the ceiling. What mess did she get herself into? And was he worth it?



Lilitu had forgotten what a pain Dolce could be on a long journey. The dog insisted on stopping at every tree and every bush to see what animal had claimed it and then leave her own mark. “You’re not happy being the alpha female are you?” Lilitu asked, attaching a leather leash to Dolce’s collar. “You have to be alpha everything, right?”

Dolce simply panted, appearing to be smiling widely.

Though the constant stopping to smell the bushes tacked on extra time, Lilitu was glad for the company. Talking to herself made her feel unbalanced, while talking to Dolce felt natural. It was something she had been doing since she got the dog so many years ago.

Her heart sank a little with the thought. Dolce was near eight years old and the lifespan for a dog was around twelve. Only four more years… She looked down at Dolce. She was as spry as ever. Her hearing was sharp as was her vision. Her mind was alert and she was strong. She was going to be fine, Lilitu told herself, shaking her head as if to rid herself of the thoughts.

Still, it lingered in the depths of her mind. Not all dogs die of natural causes. There’s all sorts of diseases or infections. People or wild animals… Poisons, of course. Lilitu looked down at Dolce. Nearly all of those potential killers lurked in the wild. She was suddenly afraid to let Dolce continue sniffing the plants. She was no alchemist. She had no idea what was poisonous to dogs and what wasn’t. And who knew what was lurking beyond the path, just waiting for something to kill. Maybe it would have been better to just let Dolce sulk for a few days. At least she would have been safe.

She looked back, even though she knew it was too late. She had already passed Skingrad and the day was almost gone. She would just have to keep going and be thankful for dog armor.

As her jitters wore off, Lilitu started to finally appreciate the beauty of her surroundings. The trees were so green and vivid. They gave off a sweet, woody scent. The flowers bloomed along the path. Deep into the forest, Lilitu could see ruins. A white structure with smaller ones around it erupted from the ground like scattered teeth. It looked like it had once been beautiful, but now it was dirty and broken in many places. Moss and vines grew on some of the walls and the stairs, though Liiltu had to admit it gave it a certain charm. She looked around and then at Dolce. The seclusion gave her an idea.

“Come on,” she said to Dolce. “Just a quick peek.”

Dolce didn’t whimper or resist. That gave Lilitu confidence.

She cut through the forest, away from the path. Instantly she felt the sudden cool from stepping under the blanket of trees. Instead of the quiet of the path, the forest surrounded her with the sounds of squirrels chittering, birds and crickets chirping, and leaves rustling.

As she got closer, she thought of the hideaway at Sheep’s Clothing. If this place could get restored, could it become a safe haven for those who had nowhere to go?

“Of course it could,” she said to herself. She could get Vardas to help and Methredhel and maybe a few others from the guild.

She imagined it cleaned up outside with a little vegetable garden out front, maybe a few fruit trees as well. Possibly a farm. The interior would have a few bedrooms, a community room, a kitchen. If they were lucky maybe a bath house could be put in… It would be perfect!

Footsteps up ahead caused her to stop in her tracks. Of course she wouldn’t be the first person to think about hiding away in a place like that. She knelt down and pulled Dolce in. The dog began to growl softy. “Shhhh…” Lilitu hushed, stroking her back.

A man in an aqua robe passed by. Lilitu bit her lip, hoping he would simply enter the ruin and give her a chance to leave, but Dolce started barking. Sometimes that dog was so much trouble!

The man looked directly at them and just a single look in his eyes told Lilitu what exactly he planned to do with them. “N’chow, Dolce!” She said, getting up to her feet. “Come on!”

She gripped Dolce’s leash tightly pulling her back to the path. Lilitu looked both ways, hoping to see a wandering centurion patrolling the roads. She was disappointed. It would just be her against the robed man.

She took her dagger out and walked Dolce behind a large boulder. She watched as the man burst through the trees, his skin suddenly taking on an unnatural yellow glow. Great. He’s done something to himself. Probably a shield, she thought. Lilitu had always been afraid of having to fight a mage. At least if someone had a physical weapon it was easy to spot an advantage. With mages she had no idea what to expect.

She wished she could tie Dolce to a tree while she figured out what to do, but the boulder was the only available cover and the dog would not listen to a “stay” command if the mage came too close. As much as she hated to use it, she unsheathed her dagger and held it at her side. If he came around she could surprise him with a jab in the throat. If the shield spell was too strong, she’d just repeat until it sunk in.

The suspense was worse than if he had been chasing her down. Part of her just wanted to just wait until he went away, but she knew she couldn’t. If he was patient enough to master magic, he was patient enough for a kill if he was determined to do so. She poked her head out to see if he was still there. He was and he saw her. He grinned at her, his eyes still twinkling. It made her heart race, and not in the good way. He flung his arm out and a ball of flame flew inches away from her face.

“N’chow!” She cried, grabbing Dolce’s leash. She could either fight him off or try to lose him in the forest. She ran across the path back into the forest. She had planned to keep running until he got lost or tired or maybe mauled by a bear but then it dawned on her that either of those things could happen to her or Dolce. Worse, he might have friends waiting.

She stopped in her tracks. There was no escaping it. She had to fight him dead on. She unhooked Dolce’s leash. “Alright, you run ahead and I’ll find you once I’m done.” Dolce sat down. “No, go! Run!”

Dolce did. She ran straight toward the mage.

“What? No!” She screamed. That damn dog!

She bolted after her just in time to see the mage hit Dolce with a blast of lightning. The sheer force of the spell knocked Dolce off her feet and landed with a thud and a whimper. Rage coursed through Lilitu. Her heart pounded so hard that the logical, rational side of her feared that it might explode. Luckily that part was buried so far beneath her primal urge to protect Dolce so she didn’t lose focus with worry. Though her legs trembled, she ran to the mage with her blade drawn, ready to bury it first in his hateful little hands, then his heart, and then right between the eyes for good measure.

The mage wasn’t put off by her sudden readiness to fight him. Instead, he was excited. He bit his lip and flung a fireball at her. Though it hit her in the chest, it did nothing more than cause a stumble and a burn in her armor.

Dolce got up again, this time angry. She barked at the mage, her body all set to attack again. As soon as the mage looked her way, Dolce leapt up at him ready to tear his throat out but she was flung back by a fireball spell. Again, she landed hard.

While he was focused on Dolce, Lilitu came up from behind and attempted to plunge her dagger deep into his shoulder, but the shield caused a sharp recoil and she stumbled hard, almost losing her footing. She gathered herself and went for another stab, but he turned around just in time to grab her wrist.

He snatched the dagger from her and threw it. He grinned at her. “You’re quite the feisty one,” he said. “Your soul will serve me wonderfully.” His free hand glowed brightly with a large fire ball. Lilitu struggled to free herself but not even kicking him loosened his grip. It was only when Dolce sunk her teeth into his thigh that he released her.

He threw Lilitu to the ground and he hit Dolce with his spell. The dog whimpered as it hit, the force enough to send her rolling.

Dolce! She didn’t have the same resistance to burns as Lilitu did. She clenched her teeth and picked up the first thing she could get her hands on: a large rock.

Lilitu didn’t waste any time slamming it into the base of the mage’s neck. He cried out until his head was nearly severed from Lilitu beating him. She sank to her knees next to his body. She shuddered, choking back sobs, though she was overcome with the flooding joy knowing that she was still alive. It was kill or be killed and she knew it. It wasn’t the first time and with a heavy heart and sickened stomach she knew it wouldn’t be the last if she was going to continue traveling through dangerous trails.

She walked over to Dolce, who was licking her back. The spells tore a hole in her armor and she was bleeding a little. “N’chow,” she said. She reached into her bag and pulled out a healing potion and a cloth. She poured a little bit onto the cloth and pressed it to Dolce’s wound. Dolce snarled and snapped at Lilitu’s hand, causing her to jump back. She huffed. Though she loved Dolce with all her heart, she had to remember that in the end she was an animal.

“I am not going to let this get infected,” she said, straddling the dog. She used one hand to hold Dolce’s head away from the wound and the other to press the rag to it. Dolce struggled for a few moments until the wound closed itself. Lilitu got up and sighed as Dolce went back to her old self. That arrow had better be worth it.



This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Dec 23 2019, 08:07 AM

[King Coin]

What mess did she get herself into? And was he worth it?
NO! bail bail bail !!!
What to do with the dog? Oh just got to the fight. Yeah leaving her home would have been much better lol.

[Grits]

“Greetings, novitate,” she said, trying to read it aloud. “And know first… blah, blah, blah.” She shut the book and set it on her night stand. “This is ridiculous.”

I love it!! Hopefully Capaneus will demonstrate that he is NOT worth it! I’m relieved, but only a little.

She was suddenly afraid to let Dolce continue sniffing the plants.

I enjoyed this whole series of thoughts. Lilitu is such a city girl. But then she does enjoy the woods, at least until she finds out it was a mage who was lurking just waiting for something to kill. That was quite a fight, and then she had to wrestle Dolce to heal her. Yikes!!

[SubRosa]

It was like reading the rantings of a crazy man.
And for good reason! That was a relief to read. If Kirsty can still see that Manly-car's book is just a bunch of gibberish, there is still hope for her.

I think Liltu may have bitten off more than she can chew with Ceyatatar. And poor Dolce! Her dog armor won't protect her from lightning bolts! That was too close a call. I hope the rest of this expedition goes better than that did.



Nits:
She would read the words but had no recolection
That would be recollection.

[Jacki Dice]

King Coin~ As wonderful as dogs are, sometimes they can be a real pain!

Grits~ Like Lilitu, I think the forest is very lovely... from a distance. Too many creepy things and a very vivid and paranoid imagination prevents me from enjoying it up close.

SubRosa~ Manly-car! I included that little part to show that Kirsty isn't in the Mythic Dawn... at least not yet

~~~~~♥~~~~~

Chapter Thirty-One: Bravil

Once again, the Faregyl Inn looked like paradise once Lilitu entered late at night. She would be in Bravil by morning and hopefully the arrowhead would be easily gotten and she could go home, though maybe by caravan instead of walking it alone.

She plopped in the bed with Dolce at her side and two rolls of potato bread with a side of pulled pork and a bottle of apple juice. Dolce was given her own dish of pork with some rice and carrots mixed in The loaves were the first to be eaten and with each bite, Lilitu felt better about the fight with the mage. She could almost hear her mother screaming at her for seeking comfort from food, especially bread, but just as she did whenever her mother was yelling about something, she ignored it and continued her meal.

However once she woke up, her mouth and stomach felt incredibly sour. “Maybe one roll would have been fine,” she said to herself, her hands rubbing her stomach gently. “And how are you feeling today?” She asked Dolce.

Dolce laid on the floor, still wearing her ruined armor. Lilitu sighed deeply. It would need to be repaired, but of course the only place that had a smith was Bravil and Lilitu didn’t like the idea of her being unprotected during the rest of the trip. “Hmmm…” She bit her lip. “I got it!”

She stripped out of her cuirass and wrapped it around Dolce, covering the hole in the armor. She then dug into her bag and pulled out the jade green, velvet top she had been saving to slip into the castle in. She looked in the mirror sitting by the dresser. It was strange seeing herself in something such a different color than usual, but she didn’t want to make it easy to identify her later on.

She stood up, frowning. It was clear that she loved pastries and breads of all sorts, judging by the stubborn little pooch residing under her belly button. That and her thighs. And the ever faint hints of stretch marks tracing around her hips that, strangely, no one else seemed to be able to see. Still, at least she had never received any complaints. Actually, she reminded herself, she had received many compliments about her “womanly” shape. So if other people like it, why can’t you? She wondered.

She turned away and slipped the blouse on. The matching skirt could wait. She let her hair down and glanced at the large mirror and smiled. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so bad. In fact, she thought with her hands on her hips, I look pretty damn good!

WARNING:

The mysterious portal located at the “island” in the bay is dangerous. It is possibly linked with the Daedric Prince, Sheogorath. Citizens are highly discouraged from entering the portal or even setting foot on the island.

Those who have entered, even for a brief second, have come back maniacal and many are incredibly dangerous to themselves and the general public. The Empire takes no responsibility for any reckless actions. Explore at your own risk.

The sign was littered with graffiti, mostly stating that so-and-so was there. On the back of the sign, a chart had begun. Names and dates of entry were posted. The section for returns was empty. In fact, next to the sign Lilitu noticed several unmarked graves. Is that what became of them?

Lilitu stood near the bay, staring out to where it was. Sure, she was curious but she wasn’t stupid. Besides, the mage from yesterday had given her enough adventure for one mission.



Lilitu never thought she would be so happy to see Bravil. It was like the Waterfront of the Imperial City had expanded itself into a city. Nearly all the buildings were run down shacks seemingly pieced together with whatever planks of wood were available. The air was thick and felt sticky. The stench from the Larsius River that ran through the city could be smelled from miles away. Still, after such a long journey, she couldn’t help but be relieved.

Bravil

She noted the location of Silverhome on the Water, but first needed to repair her and Dolce’s armor. Based on her last theft, she figured it would come in handy. She headed straight to The Archer’s Paradox.

“Welcome to The Archer's Paradox. Because a perfect arrow flies forever, and that's impossible. I'm Daenlin, and I have no perfect arrows,” the Bosmer behind the counter said.

Though he may not have had any perfect arrows, the shop was full of bundles of arrows. Wood, ebony, silver, glass, even some so beautiful Lilitu couldn’t imagine ruining them by shooting them into a person. There were also several bows, some plain wood and some that must have cost thousands of septims.

Daenlin himself looked like nothing special. He was completely bald up top with a ring of brown hair around his head. Though Elves in general were difficult to age, Lilitu figured he had to be nearing a hundred with all the wrinkles etched into his face. He must have been hard at work because he was covered in sweat and dirt. The forge behind him blazed.

“Well, aren’t you cute?” He said, looking down at Dolce. He knelt down, offering his hand to her.

“Oh, I wouldn’t—“

Lilitu was surprised when instead of getting defensive, Dolce sniffed him and started licking his hand. Daelin broke into a grin and began petting her and scratching behind her ears. Dolce’s back leg began to thump the floor. “What a beautiful dog,” he said. “What breed is she?”

“Mainly Nibenean Sheepdog, though I was told she’s mixed with pit bull and golden retriever.”

Daenlin cupped her face. “A mutt, huh?” He rubbed the top of her head. “Well, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. I bet she’s still just as good as any other dog.”

Lilitu bristled instantly, though she wasn’t sure if she was more offended for Dolce or by the mere insinuation that a “mutt” would be considered any less than a purebred.

Eight straight hours of sun in the lake had done its damage. Lilitu’s skin was a pale purple and painful to the touch. Same for Relemus and Vardas, though they would freckle and she would get darker for a few days.

Lilitu’s grandmother picked up Mamisi, barely able to walk at the time. “See?” She said, her nose in the air. “Mamisi doesn’t burn in the sun. He can tolerate it, unlike you half-breeds.”

Daenlin stood up. “So what can I help you with?”

Lilitu snapped back to reality. Without a word she removed her cuirass from Dolce’s back and took Dolce’s armor from her bag. He tsked, inspecting them both. “Looks like a mage got to you,” he said more to himself than to Lilitu. He glanced at Dolce’s side, where a patch of naked skin showed where she had been hit. “Poor thing,” he said. “I can get this fixed up, no problem, though, have you considered having it enchanted against spell damage?”

“I have, but I’d have to rob the emperor to do that.”

Daenlin chuckled. “I understand.” He gave her the price and promised to have it ready in a couple hours.

Lilitu couldn’t wait to get out of the shop. The moment she and Dolce were outside, she knelt in front of the dog.

“Don’t listen to any of that mutt nonsense. You’re the best dog in the world and breed has nothing to do with it.” She paused. “Oh who am I kidding? The emperor could declare you a kagouti-sucking piece of corprus flesh and you wouldn’t care. You don’t even know what any of that means.” She looked around Bravil for anything to occupy her time with, but didn’t see very much. Bravil was no Kvatch, that was for sure.

She passed a statue of an old woman gazing lovingly at three infants reaching up to her. The plaque on the front read “The Lucky Old Lady.”

The Lucky Old Lady

“You’re supposed to kiss her,” someone behind her said.

Lilitu turned to see an old woman, obviously a beggar, staring at the statue. “She gives you good luck,” the old woman said. “I come down here every morning and give her a kiss.”

Lilitu wondered why, if the statue really did give good luck, then why was this old woman still a beggar and not nobility? Then again the statue was called the Lucky Old Lady, not the Lucky Old Miracle Worker. Besides, it could have been a testament to its luck that the woman had lived as long as she had. The streets weren’t known for being places of longevity, especially for women.

“Well, what could it hurt?” Lilitu decided. She walked up the steps and kissed the Old Lady’s outstretched hand.

The beggar smiled. “Now just you wait. Today’s going to be quite lucky for you!”

Lilitu looked toward the castle. “I certainly hope so.”



While Lilitu didn’t feel any different, she did notice many good things happening to her. First, Bogrum gro-Galash, the Orc proprietor of the Lonely Suitor Lodge, didn’t make too much of a fuss about Dolce remaining in the room. In fact the fifty septim animal fee would be refunded if Dolce didn’t soil the floor.

She found a sack containing twenty septims under the pillow and a book so badly torn that no one would notice if Lilitu borrowed a few pages for Dolce. Well, maybe the last part wasn’t something excitingly lucky, but it sure was convenient.

Even with the good things happening, Lilitu wasn’t quite sure if she believed in the statue’s power. The theft of the arrow would be its proving ground.



Dressed in her finery under a pink cloak, Lilitu headed for Castle Bravil. Her armor and weapons were tucked away in her bag. Though she expected to be gawked at, she was surprised to see that no one even glanced at her. She supposed that people may have been used to people coming and going, given the reputation of the count’s son.

The doors opened to reveal an empty throne room. A gold and red carpet led the way to the throne in front of a banner bearing a deer. More banners of the same colors hung from each side. It reminded Lilitu of a warm hearth.

Castle Bravil

Staircases on either side led up to three doors. Sadly the Gray Fox didn’t provide her with a map of the castle. She silently rushed up the stairs. Something told her to go in the center door. She quickly unlocked it and slipped inside.

She found herself in an empty hall. Oil paintings of the Niben Bay were hung on walls where there were no banners. Small tables held expensive looking vases with beautiful flowers in them. The sound of steel footsteps alerted her that she would need to move fast. She entered the first door she saw and was greatly pleased to see alchemical items in a corner of the bedroom.

“This has to be Fathis’ bedroom,” she said to herself.

She shut the door behind her and pulled a chest in front of it. The bedroom was empty.

“Well, this was easy enough.”

She looked around. The bedroom was nearly half the size of her entire house! To the right was his large canopy bed covered in lush velvet blankets and pillows larger than Dolce. Benches sat on either side of the bed. Lilitu could only imagine what they were for. There were paintings of Morrowind’s lush greenlands hanging up all over the place and there a few of nude Dunmeri women.

In front of his bed was a large dining table. A single place was set with beautiful silver dishes. Lilitu couldn’t help noticing a thin layer of dust on the plate. It seemed that he hadn’t been home in awhile. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. A bottle of sujamma tempted Lilitu. While she didn’t like the taste, she didn’t mind the relaxed feeling a few glasses gave her. She placed her hand around its neck but decided to leave it. She needed to remain clear headed until she was back in Kvatch. It wouldn’t serve for her to get robbed on the way back because she wasn’t all there while in possession of the arrow.

The other half of the room was divided by two large wardrobes, both of them large enough to hold every article of clothing Lilitu had owned since infancy. The other side of the room was dedicated to alchemy. A table was full of expensive looking equipment. The entire wall was filled with shelves containing jars of ingredients. Lilitu examined a few of them: daedra skin, basilisk eyes, fairy dragon scales, and ghoul’s tongues were just a few of the incredibly exotic things around. She had half a mind to stuff her bag full of the jars. It would bring in mountains of gold from any alchemist, but it also ran the risk of being too hot. After all, who else but a court mage would have access to such things?

She turned her attention to two chests by the door. It was time to set to work. She picked the first one, but it only had books inside. Lilitu picked each up and flipped through the pages to make sure the arrow wasn’t hidden away. Nothing. She went to the other one but the only things that were inside that one were official looking documents from the Mages Guild.

Lilitu searched his wardrobes and even around and under his bed but the arrow wasn’t there. She sat at the table. Something wasn’t right. Of all the jobs she had done for the Thieves Guild, all of them were right about where the item in question would be. The arrow had to be somewhere in the room. She looked around. Maybe Fathis had it, but not in the room. His bedroom was too easily broken into. It wasn’t even locked! Lilitu stood up. Castles were known for their secret tunnels so why shouldn’t Fathis have a little hideaway of his own?

Lilitu checked under the paintings for a switch. She moved candelabras around but still nothing. She sat on a bench under a little arch. Where could the passage be?

She eyed the pillars on either side of her. She pulled one, but it didn’t budge. However, once she pulled the other, the wall rose up and displayed a tunnel.

She changed out of her clothes and back into her armor before entering the tunnel. “Lucky Old Lady, if you want to prove yourself, now would be the best time,” she said under her breath.


This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Dec 23 2019, 08:08 AM

[King Coin]

She’s going to forgo her own armor to protect that pooch? What a liability the dog has turned into! A cute liability at least.

I guess Wrothken wasn’t on the sign eh?

Wait… she’s not planning on bringing the dog with her when she steals the arrow does she?

Hey! Mutts are the best!

I’m anticipating the next update. There are daedra down there if I recall correctly.