I am Lena Wolf, Lena's life as it happens Options

[Lena Wolf]

This episode is a fairly faithful recount of Fable 2, as seen through the eyes of Lena Wolf.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


23 Sun's Dawn, 4E203 - Albion

"It was another portal," Lena started telling the story of Albion to Scorpio, the fog of Dementia floating low over the ground. "We weren't partying at the time, Sanguine had been gone for a while and calm had returned, serenity even. I touched something... the New Sheoth palace is a dangerous place. The next thing I knew I was falling from a tall tower..."

"Splat," Scorpio grinned.

"Yeah, you weren't there to catch me," Lena grinned back at him. "I must have lost consciousness, because I woke up some time later in a wagon in a gypsy camp. A blind woman greeted me, said I had a destiny to fulfil..." Lena shook her head. "The dog was nice though."

"Dog?"

"Apparently I had a dog. And I fell from that tower some fifteen years previously. Seriously? And the dog was still alive? He didn't even look old..." She rubbed her chin.

"Magic."

"But you see how I was not inclined to believe anything she'd say?" Lena looked up at Scorpio, her head resting in his lap. "Still, I had to figure out where I was and how to get back, so I listened to her explanations. Also, she could talk in my head..." Lena shuddered.

"Like a certain dragon."

"Like a number of Daedric Princes, too! What is it with everyone wanting to be inside my head?!" Lena frowned, then continued. "Anyway, it seemed that the reason I fell out of that tower was that someone named Lord Lucien Fairfax decided to take over the world, to which end he needed to destroy four individuals with extraordinary abilities, of whom I was apparently one. So he shot me and my older sister, she died but I fell out of his tower. And survived. Which proved conclusively that I was the actual person with those extraordinary abilities, because only such a person could have survived that fall... Does that make any sense to you?" She looked up at him from below, but Scorpio only smiled.

"Yes," he nodded. "I always knew you were different."

That wasn't the answer Lena was hoping for, so she continued.

"Well, the first order of the day was to find the 'Hero of Strength' and to recruit her. She was a particularly muscular young monk belonging to the most pacifist religion you could imagine... And I had to recruit her to fight a great evil! Ha!" Lena scoffed. "And pigs can fly."

"But you succeeded," Scorpio brushed some stray hair out of Lena's face. "How?"

"By provocation of vengeance," Lena blushed. "Not nice. Their temple got attacked while she and I were away fetching some holy water, and when we got back, we could just witness her adoptive father being murdered. I had the feeling it was a setup... It left such a bad taste in my mouth that I was ready to say a few things to the blind gypsy woman and just leave her fight this Lord Lucien Fairfax on her own."

"Leave and go where?" Scorpio squeezed Lena's hand - he guessed what was coming.

"Exactly," Lena frowned. "I swallowed my principles and stayed in the hope of finding a way back once that Lord What's-His-Name was defeated. The gypsy woman was the key, and she would not have let me leave until she got what she wanted."

"I see where liqueur and sex comes in," Scorpio nodded.

"Well... There was a lot of smaller stuff going on as well, you understand," Lena smiled to that. "Not all bad, not at all. The people there were generally easy going, quite a few oddballs among them... Quite fun, in fact. Bowerstone was a solid middle-class city with proper solid middle-class people in it... Most of them... Err... Some of them..." Lena grinned. "Anyway. The next task was to find the 'Hero of Skill' who was a dashing fellow with particular mastery of guns. You've been there - you know what guns are, right?" She looked up at Scorpio again and he nodded. "Right. Nasty loud things, glad we don't have them here," she grimaced. "But effective for ranged combat, although give me a good bow, and I'll get the job done quicker, quieter and without fuss."

"And that fellow was in Bloodstone," Scorpio prompted her.

"Yes. You remember the town?" She grinned. "Unbelievable. Was there anyone there who was not a prostitute? I doubt it. And the fellow I was after, was the self-appointed mayor!" She snorted.

"So you indulged yourself," Scorpio grinned too.

"Well, it isn't often that you walk into a town where the entire population is 'open to experimentation' and tells you so, is it? I had my fun. But it wasn't going to get me that fellow's help, oh no, he wanted some real favours. He actually wanted my soul."

"Wow."

"Yeah." Lena paused. "Turns out, he sold his, or leased it at least, and the time for repayment was near, so he sent me in his stead. The deal was to keep paying them souls for his continued luxurious life."

"But you survived," Scorpio squeezed Lena's hand again - he did know her very well.

"Yes," she nodded, looking grim. "I sacrificed an innocent soul."

"Innocence is life's greatest illusion..."

"I know, Brother!" Lena cried and sat up, her eyes hard on Scorpio's. "It wasn't the same! We take lives, yes, but there's always a reason. It takes a lot of money and determination to contact the Dark Brotherhood. People don't do it on a whim! And even if not all of the lives that we take actually deserve it... it still isn't the same! The soul I sacrificed had been specifically picked for her innocence. That was the point. Besides, they took her soul, not just her life."

She turned away, looking into the distance. They were sitting on the deck of a raised campsite platform, the fire had died down, but the embers were still giving off enough heat to keep the chill of the night at bay. Scorpio moved closer to Lena and put his arms around her until she relaxed, pressing her back against his chest.

"When I first realised you were an assassin..." he said into her ear. "Remember? At the Union Inn in Gran Soren. We'd had a hard time fighting harpies and wolves that day, bandits too, our wounds were deep, you filled a bath tub with ice, stripped and submerged... Then made me do the same. 'Modesty is a luxury we cannot afford,' you said... Then offered to release me if your occupation went against my morals." He kissed her softly. "No one talks to a pawn like that. You saw a person in me, not a pawn. Yet I still saw an assassin..."

"But you refused to be released," Lena ran her fingers through his hair.

"That was one cold bath," he smirked. "You were challenging every established order. Of course I had to stay. Sometimes you have to do what you have to do. What would have happened if you chose to spare that innocent soul?"

"They would have taken my soul instead," Lena said softly. "Even Sithis would not have been able to get me back."

They sat quietly for a while, in a close embrace, memories of many difficult choices running through their minds. "Your husband will have to forgive me," Scorpio breathed in her ear, his kisses getting hot.

...

The sky in the East was turning golden with sunrise when Scorpio threw some fresh logs onto the embers awakening the fire. He brewed coffee and handed Lena a cup. "Another campsite, another morning," he smiled. "Shall we stay here today? The best part of your story is still to come, I feel."

Lena wrapped her hands around the warm cup and let her memories flood in.

"The mage, or the 'Hero of Will', was the most difficult member of the party to recruit. He had been kidnapped and imprisoned by the very Lord Lucien Fairfax that we were supposed to fight. The reason for it was that Lord Lucien was building a huge tower just off the coast of Albion, the design came from some old texts and was important in itself. The top of the tower would have a special contraption to focus magical energies, and with that he would control the world. Destroy it first, most likely, then control what's left over," Lena smirked. "That was the disaster that had to be prevented, and to do that we had to halt the construction of that tower. Problem was, Lord Lucien already got himself a source of magical energy that he wanted to harness - Sanguine. Or rather, to start with, we just knew it was this incredibly powerful mage, the 'Hero of Will'. He was being held in the very tower they were building, and in order to get to him, I had to join thousands of people working there - I had to become a slave. It was clear to us that it was nothing but slavery, but the people actually thought they were getting a pretty good job with generous wages... Trouble was, no one ever returned from that job, and no one knew what was going on inside. There was even a competition or a test you had to do in order to be accepted, can you imagine?" Lena shook her head.

"Make something hard to get and everyone will immediately want it," Scorpio nodded. "Clever."

"So when I inquired about getting a job on that tower, I was told that all positions had been filled and unless I could prove that I was truly capable, they could not be bothered... I had to become a gladiator, and if I survived and became the Grand Champion, then perhaps Lord Lucien would consider me suitable to work on the construction of his tower!"

"Ah, the 'blood to excess' part," Scorpio squinted. "Isn't it? I didn't think you were referring to regular adventuring."

"Yes, it was pretty brutal. Not only did I have to survive, but I had to be artistic in my slaughter!" Lena scoffed. "The opponents were mostly beasts, but there were a few groups of bandits as well - 'mercenaries' they called them. Well, they never got their wages." Lena sipped her coffee. "And the worst part - you had to do it all from start to finish without rest or pause. It was a series of arenas, there'd be a weapons trader here and there in between, but otherwise you were supposed to keep going. Ten or fifteen fights, several rounds each... Boethia would have approved. Not many people came out at the other end. Your rank was determined by your score - how fast, artistic and entertaining your performance had been! I had to try several times before I became the Grand Champion, that is beat the previous high score."

"Several times going through ten or fifteen arenas with several rounds each?" Scorpio couldn't quite believe it.

"Yes," Lena nodded. "Blood to excess it was."

Lena sipped her coffee for a few minutes before continuing.

"But that was still nothing compared to what came next. I went to see about the job at the tower and was reluctantly accepted. I was to board a ferry along with some twenty other new recruits which would take us to the tower. Suddenly the gypsy woman appeared and told me to make sure I had all my affairs wrapped up before going, as I might be away for a long time. How long? She would not say, but insisted that absolutely all affairs had to be wrapped up, that I should visit each of my spouses and each of my lovers and say good-bye to them all... That didn't sound encouraging, I must admit."

"How long?" Scorpio froze with a pot of coffee in his hand.

"Eleven years."

He shook his head without a word and refilled their cups.

"All prisoners... err... workers were fitted with collars that cut magicka flow and could administer shocks as punishment. The overseers controlled the collars, and punishment was administered freely and without limitations due to minor ailments like death. The overseers themselves wore such collars too, controlled by their overseers, and so on. In order for me to be able to move around the tower and try to find the mage, I had to move up the ranks... Which meant administering a lot of punishment, both on the orders of my superiors and on my own initiative. The initiative was necessary to increase rank. If I had been told in advance what was expected of me, I would have stuffed that gypsy woman onto the ferry in my stead and found the tallest tower in the land to jump out of... As it was however, stuck on Lord Lucien's construction site, the choice was to move up the ranks and hope to find a way out, or take punishment for breathing and perish. No one ever left that tower alive, did I mention that?"

Lena fell silent, coffee getting cold in her cup. Scorpio moved close to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

"This is far worse than even the Bitterblack Isle," he said softly. "If you don't want to continue the story, then don't."

"And miss all the good bits?" Lena smiled through the tears. "Let's just skip the rest of my time on that tower. Suffices to say, that I eventually advanced far enough in rank to have access to the secure cells where Sanguine was held. Of course I didn't know at the time it was Sanguine, I was just looking for a mage. I would recognise him by his markings - bright coloured marks on dark skin, lesions left by excessive use of magic, I was told. What I saw was a dremora with scorched red markings on his dark skin, dull red eyes and broken off horns."

"Dremoras don't quite look like that, I thought..." Scorpio tried to recall what a dremora would look like - they were very rare on the Shivering Isles.

"Of course not!" Lena exclaimed. "He was drained... He wore another collar that was draining his magic and transmitting it to some contraption... He is a Prince! He has vast reserves of it, he regenerates all the time... But it looked like they were sapping more than he could regenerate. In a word, as long as that collar was on, he wasn't going anywhere, even if he could withstand the pain they would punish him with. And the same went for me."

Lena paused, looking into the distance.

"I found the keys to the collars... Don't ask what I had to do for it..."

Scorpio didn't ask. Lena was squeezing the hilt of her Sufferthorn and her hand was bleeding where the nails dug into the flesh. After a while she continued.

"Once our collars were off, every single guard aimed to kill us. The first few that we killed, provided us with weapons, for neither of us was in any condition to cast spells... It was a long and protracted battle. We wore clumsy suits that made stealth impossible, we had to stand and fight every time. Eventually Sanguine regained enough magicka to teleport us out of there... Didn't I say he was a Prince?" Lena smiled at Scorpio's surprise. "He opened a portal and we stepped through it... but alas, it didn't take us very far - we stood on the shore opposite that tower. But then the gypsy woman appeared, and this was the one time when I was glad to see her! She opened another portal and whisked us away..."

"And let me guess - your dog was still alive," Scorpio smiled.

"Yep," Lena nodded. "The longest living dog in Albion..."

"What happened to all your spouses and lovers from before? Was any of them still waiting for you?"

"No," Lena shook her head. "That could have been my own fault however - they've had enough time to learn about one another and to file for divorce," she smirked. "And I couldn't care less."

The sun was almost in zenith, and most of the fog had cleared away. Soft greens and browns of the landscape before them looked almost idyllic, if it weren't for the warped roots of the mushroom trees and long streaks of tar hanging off the branches. Yet they found the view peaceful and comforting.

"The gypsy woman wanted us to go after Lord Lucien as quickly as possible, but I simply refused. If she thought it fair to lock me away in that tower for eleven years, she could now wait for me until I regained my strength. Until Sanguine regained his strength, too, for his wounds were far greater. I still don't know if she never understood who he really was, or whether she just kept it to herself. At that point or soon after Sanguine could have left, but he didn't."

"So you took your time to recover," Scorpio added some logs to the fire and started a fresh pot of coffee.

"Yeah..." Lena was musing. "I'd never seen Sanguine like that... We found a farm in a quiet village and simply spent our days not doing much of anything... No liqueur, no blood, no excess. The Prince of Debauchery was the most laid back person you could imagine."

"Perhaps you've had enough of excess for a while."

"Perhaps..." Lena nodded. "But then of course we got interrupted. Lord Lucien got quite annoyed with us for removing his source of magicka - Sanguine - and he tried to recapture him on several occasions. Lots of fighting followed, lots of hostile magic... But we never saw our evil Lord face to face, he always sent his Commandants to do the actual fighting. I wondered why."

"Did his name bother you?" Scorpio asked suddenly.

"It did at first," Lena admitted. "But it's just a name. I came to realise pretty quickly that it was an entirely different person. And then, when we finally faced him... Well, he stood there, an old scholar, a man grieving deeply the death of his wife and daughter. He drove himself to insanity... He was no threat to us in a fight, it was the tower that was the source of the danger. Our 'Hero of Skill', the man with a gun, shot him dead."

"That's a rather anticlimactic ending to such a gruelling tale!" Scorpio exclaimed in surprise.

"Yes, it was," Lena nodded. "With Lord Lucien's death, the tower he was building magically collapsed... I find it extremely suspicious myself, you know. And then I had to choose the future for that world."

"The three terrible choices."

"Choose love, and all those I loved would live, but everyone who died while building the tower would remain dead - that's thousands of people. Choose sacrifice and all that I loved would die, but the people would be resurrected. Choose money, and I'd just get rich, with everyone dead. The worst choice of all," Lena smirked.

"When you say 'everyone you loved', whom do you mean exactly?" Scorpio froze again.

"I don't know," Lena shook her head. "Was that just about the people in that world or did it mean everywhere? I wasn't of that world, and neither was Sanguine, I took one look at him..." She sighed. "And stabbed myself through the heart."

"Again."

"Again," Lena's voice sounded hollow. "I took the fourth option. There is always another way."

The afternoon entered its golden hour and the rays of the setting sun were turning the fog of Dementia into a golden mist.

"I woke up on a peaceful island, it was late afternoon or early evening, like now. Waves were gently rolling onto the sandy beach, fire was crackling, a faint coffee aroma was floating in the air. Sanguine was lying next to me, massaging my heart. 'Don't do that again,' he said. 'I am not a healer.' But he was."

[Renee]

Lena's doing one of Umbacano's latter quests, I see. Still never finished those quests. But that's a good reason to eventually go back to OB, right? I do remember there was some mishmash going on with the Collector quest, too. Some decisions to be made. Looks like Lena decided to take from the Collector. 🏆

Do Lucien and Hauk know about each other, in the sense that they both share the affections of the story's protagonist? I kinda sense not, eh? Wonder what would happen if...

"Ah" - Lucien didn't look surprised. "Well, I know about you two - it's not exactly news."

See, doesn't seem as though they're knowledgeable. Or maybe one knows, but doesn't really care.

a was tugging on Hauk trying to wake him up. She'd been to Chorrol the day before to arrange for the month's supplies to the Battlehorn Castle,

Ha! My Joan of Arkay does this exact same trip! Except she never seems to have enough money for an entire month's supplies! Usually, a few days' rations are more like it.

Whoa, she just took down Umbra!

Here now

[Lena Wolf]

Lena's doing one of Umbacano's latter quests, I see. Still never finished those quests.

This was the first time I did that quest as well. I think I went to Malada before, but never all the way to the end... At least I don't recall. No, I would have remembered. It was really really really really really really hard! Did I mention it was hard? Those undead were just unbeatable... Yeah, the Royal Guard. Of course we got them in the end, but at what cost!

Do Lucien and Hauk know about each other, in the sense that they both share the affections of the story's protagonist? I kinda sense not, eh? Wonder what would happen if...

"Ah" - Lucien didn't look surprised. "Well, I know about you two - it's not exactly news."

See, doesn't seem as though they're knowledgeable. Or maybe one knows, but doesn't really care.

I am not going to say anything to that, you'll see. Life doesn't come with all the answers written up at the back of the book either. They know, as you've seen here, and yet there isn't any jealousy going on... Perhaps they don't care, or perhaps they care too much? Or may be... Well, you'll see. Lena is very much in the dark about it, and so should be the reader!

Glad you're enjoying it so far.

[Lena Wolf]

4th Era, Years of Confusion

As Lena kept being pulled into portals that led her into other worlds, time progression in her life was getting more and more confusing. The years she lived seemed to run in parallel to the years passing on Nirn, which was one of the reasons she stayed away. Although many people she knew were sufficiently long-lived to breach the gap, seeing them suddenly aged half a lifetime when only a few years had passed in her own life, was more than unnerving. "Stay away from Nirn" had been Lena's solution, even though it smacked severely of the tactic of large prairie birds that she'd read about in a book - apparently, when danger was approaching, they'd bury their heads in the soil, although not being able to see the danger hardly made it go away...

For the benefit of the readers however, we shall try to establish a timeline relative to the passage of time on Nirn.

With the conclusion of the Oblivion Crisis, the 4th Era had begun. During this time Lena was a vampire, and trouble was brewing in the Dark Brotherhood - there were rumours of a traitor, with the events around the Purification of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary soon to be set in motion. This would take a few years, ending with the memorable night in Bravil that was an intensely private affair for Lena and Lucien, and unless either of them decides to share it, we won't by prying. After that night, Lena disappeared to the Shivering Isles where the Greymarch was slowly gathering strength. The exact dates of these events are unknown.

In some ten or twenty years that followed, Lena found a cure for vampirism and defeated Jyggalag, thus ending the Greymarch. She became the sitting ruler of the Shivering Isles, Lord Sheogorath, while the Prince was away undergoing the transition from Jyggalag back to Sheogorath. It should be noted that time passes differently on the Shivering Isles, so this period didn't feel to her like twenty years - it felt a lot shorter.

After the Greymarch Dylan joined Lena in her explorations of the Shivering Isles and became a trusted friend. At some point he took her to the Mazken Wellspring that restored Lena's appearance ruined by the cure of vampirism - after the Wellspring visit she no longer looked like an old woman but instead looked like her youthful self, never to age again.

The next hundred years or so were mostly spent in other realms, with the most notable and lengthy stays being Gransys and Albion, in that order. In Gransys Lena met Scorpio, but then lost him again with her return to Tamriel. Albion came some time after, taking another twenty years of her life and forging her bond with Sanguine. How much time had passed on Nirn in the meantime, is unknown, but that was the period when Lucien almost lost hope of seeing Lena ever again appearing in his fort, so it must have been a very long time.

Some time around 4E160 Prince Sheogorath returned to the Shivering Isles and Lena returned to Nirn. She found her property confiscated and her house in Bravil repossessed, for the feeble reason that she had missed the Imperial Census more than a few times and was suspected to be dead. She found the news extremely distressing, boarded a ship bound "elsewhere" and left Tamriel with the intention to never return. The ship was bound for the Northern Realms, yet another world where Lena would spend some time. She met Geralt there, learned that he was her brother, but when the war in that world turned it upside down, she decided to sail back to Tamriel. Another bond forged and left behind, it seemed.

While Lena was away in the Northern Realms, Tamriel was fighting a war of its own - the Great War with the Aldmeri Dominion raged between 4E171 and 4E175. Iver and Hauk Serck-Hanssen were just twenty years of age when it began, twin brothers and Imperial battlemages. They were drafted to fight the war, Iver on the front lines and Hauk with the Special Forces division to act behind enemy lines. Being a Nord, he was sent to Skyrim where he spent most of the war. He met a woman there whose husband had run off a month after the wedding, yet she gave birth to a son in due course. It was impossible to say whether the boy's father was her runaway husband or indeed Hauk, but Hauk was the one who kept coming back to her and the boy when his Legion duties permitted. She died some twenty years later.

Hauk and Lucien met for the first time during the Great War as well. The Aldmeri Dominion considered it a merciful thing to do to employ an assassin to quickly end the lives of their agents who got captured by the Imperials, and Lucien was sent out with just such a contract. Sending a Speaker to kill a weak and defenceless prisoner was a wise choice - it wasn't the prisoner who presented a challenge, but his inquisitor, and Hauk, or Animal as he was known in the Legion, had made a name for himself by then.

That meeting followed by several others, until towards the end of the war the Empire had need of its best and most loyal citizens to infiltrate the Aldmeri Dominion itself, and Hauk and Lucien found themselves on a ship to the Summerset Isle on a mission that forged their bond for the rest of their lives.

Around the year 4E195 Lena was finally back in Tamriel. Her house was still not her own, but with her status restored from "dead" to "living" in the Imperial Archives, she could breathe easy. Meeting Geralt in the Northern Realms and learning that she had a brother, brought back what memories of her childhood she still possessed. She did not remember her mother who died when Lena was just four years old, and she never knew her father, although it seemed that the bond between her mother and father had been strong. Lena's adoptive grandmother knew who they were, the bond had been real, and there was a reason why her father was staying away. But it wasn't the time to reveal those details yet. Lena's grandmother died when Lena was just sixteen, and all that she knew was that some day, when the time was right, she had to go to Skyrim for answers. So, her father was a Nord... but beyond that, she knew nothing.

Lena decided that that "some day" had come and went to Skyrim. She didn't have any particular purpose there, and it wasn't her first visit either, but she had a peculiar feeling about it. One thing led to another, and Lena discovered that she was Dragonborn. She also discovered that Geralt arrived in Skyrim after too much turmoil in his own life back in the Northern Realms. With her head spinning, Lena returned to Cyrodiil.

These chronicles start at about that point. Lena met Hauk soon upon her return, and they quickly became close friends, spending much time adventuring around Cyrodiil. Lucien appeared in Lena's life again, as her Speaker and oldest friend, and later.... Well. It would be a futile attempt to try and summarise in a few words the tribulations of the soul, so we won't even try.

...

Back in the years before the Great War, Lena and Sanguine were lying on the warm sand of one of Sanguine's islands upon their return from Albion. Sanguine was massaging Lena's heart that she had pierced with her dagger some moments before, ending her stay in that world. Once again, death seemed the only way out, and Sanguine was not about to accept that.

"Don't do that again, I am not a healer," he said when Lena opened her eyes. "Your heart is working again, but only just. You mortals are too fragile for such adventures."

"How..?" Lena looked around, realising where they were.

"Teleport," Sanguine shrugged. "I wasn't going to try anything there, with all of them watching," he grinned. "My powers work best in my Realm, anyway."

"So you could have teleported out of there any time," Lena gave him a long look.

"Any time after you got me out of that prison," Sanguine nodded. "That damned collar... it was sapping away all I had."

"Then why did you stay?"

"Couldn't leave you behind," Sanguine shrugged again.

"You are not making sense," Lena shook her head. "Obviously, you could have taken me with you. So, why stay?"

"Well..." Sanguine coughed uncomfortably. "They were having a bit of a bother with that tower there, it seemed they could use some help from someone like me..."

...

Some time later Lena was fit enough to leave. As much as she treasured her time with Sanguine, she wanted to get back to the Shivering Isles, perhaps even visit Nirn again. Sanguine would never be far away, however.

"What do you see in mortals, My Lord?" A dremora from Sanguine's clan asked cautiously. "Their lives are fleeting."

"They are," Sanguine nodded. "But they fill them with passion, with strife, with love and care, jealousy and murder... Well, some of them. The boring ones don't interest me either."

"Hmm... And this mortal, that just left... She killed a lot of our kind in her time, yet you make love to her now. Why, My Lord?"

"They served Mehrunes Dagon!" Sanguine exclaimed and spit. "She deserves all the loving for killing that lot!"

"As you say, My Lord," the dremora said with a bow, not wishing to push his luck. Sanguine was known for his bouts of temper.

"If I may serve, My Lord," a female dremora approached, baring her breasts. "We will be here when that mortal is dead, why concern yourself with passing matters? What is your desire, My Lord?" She looked at him longingly, removing the rest of her clothing.

"I should banish you all to Oblivion for an epoch or two!" Sanguine exploded in anger. "My desire! You know nothing of that!"

"That was the wrong thing to say, sister," the male dremora pulled the female out of Sanguine's reach. "He isn't in the mood."

"He's never in the mood for us, what's all this stupid obsession with mortals?!"

...

Sanguine's temper vanished as quickly as it flared. He opened another bottle of Cyrodilic brandy, downing half of it in one swig. Mortals... mortals had to take their lives a day at a time and try to stay alive. They had no escape to Oblivion when the going got tough, they had no return when it overwhelmed them. They had the drive to make every moment count. "Not like this lot," Sanguine squinted at a group of dremoras a distance away. "They have no idea what life or love actually means..."

He snapped his fingers and teleported away to another island. The island of Everrest was quiet and empty, apart from the birds and the fish, the butterflies and the crickets. Sanguine entered a cave that was a burial crypt. Yes, mortal lives were fleeting, but he treasured every memory of the time spent with his lovers, past and present. Strong women, all of them, determined, wilful, driven and passionate, now lying at rest in this cave. Many more were buried in family crypts with their mortal ancestors, but those that felt they belonged no where, had a place on the Everrest. "They live in my memory," Sanguine smirked at the dremora's remark. "Dremora females have such lovely bodies and remarkably empty souls... Lorkhan really laughed at us with that. What a creation! No, give me the lesser bodies of mortals, for their spirit compensates amply."

Out of the cave, Sanguine sat by the water watching the sunset. The sun was always setting in his Realm, it was that magical time of day between the afternoon and evening. Why let it slip away when you can hold it still forever? It was his Realm, he was the Lord.

"What would Lena be doing now?" He wondered. "Return to the Shivering Isles, Sheogorath isn't back yet, so it's more of the same looking after the people business for her. Sheogorath really hit the jackpot this time... Why did we have to condemn him to this stupid cycle? Isn't order just another form of madness?" Sanguine shook his head, his thoughts returning to Lena. "She will return to Nirn, of course," he thought. "To the man she loves yet doesn't dare to love... She will go to his fort when he's not there, she will feel his spirit and imagine the rest... Talking about a sacrifice..." He shook his head again. "But why? Because they are not ready yet. Because love is not about holding, it's about setting free... Something that those dremoras will never understand." He sat quietly for a while, sipping his brandy. When the bottle was empty, he opened another. Brandy didn't have much of an effect on a Daedric Prince. "She will fall asleep in his bed... He will return, finding her there. He won't touch her, apart from perhaps a light kiss without waking her up. She is back. He will be patient until such time when she is ready to touch him with her eyes open."

How did he know all this? Sanguine knew mortals, and much of it was simply what he deduced. Some of it was what he gleaned from Lena's mind. He tried not to pry, but when she lay dead in his arms, he used the one power he knew would bring her back - the power of possession. He gave some of his life to her, he could see the world through her eyes, he knew what she was feeling and saw the feelings she denied to herself. He saw her memories, he understood what Lucien meant to her and she to him. "One day," he thought. "One day they'll face it. But not yet." Time proved him right, of course.

[Acadian]

What a nice summary of Lena's many travels! Thanks! I chuckled over Sanguine's observations of dremora women vs mortal women.

[Renee]

I am not going to say anything to that, you'll see. biggrin.gif Life doesn't come with all the answers written up at the back of the book either. wink.gif They know, as you've seen here, and yet there isn't any jealousy going on... Perhaps they don't care, or perhaps they care too much?

Sure, that's fine. But yeah, as I intuited, it seems at least one of them knows. But it's a different universe than Earth is. Sure, some folks are able to sustain open relationships here on Earth, but they're few and far between. Maybe the social norms are different in Tamriel.

So now it is Sun's Height 9, Year 202. They are in Culotte. Full of rotten-smelling zombies. 👺 Yicch. Great pictures in this chapter. Hauk is making seared slaughterfish without a pan!

Oh wow, they're actually travelling with Umbacano. Didn't know he eventually comes along; I never got that far into the quest (yet).

Whoa, so Umbacano plays a trick! Gets some minions to try to defeat us, eh? Why am I not surprised? -- Thing is, all of this is spoilers for me but I don't mind. I kinda thought this is how his quests end up. And in a way teh spoielrs are good. This means Joan'll really have to prepare for this battle.

Here now

[Lena Wolf]

Oh wow, they're actually travelling with Umbacano. Didn't know he eventually comes along; I never got that far into the quest (yet).
... This means Joan'll really have to prepare for this battle.

That depends on the choices you make earlier in that quest. This is how it played out for Lena, it may be different for Joan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A note for the readers: I am taking a bit of a break from the story at the moment because I'm busy modding again. The story will logically continue with Lucien Lachance going to Mournhold in order to try to prevent a war of assassins between the Dark Brotherhood and Morag Tong. To do this however, he needs his game fixed up. In the story he is already in Morrowind - we've seen him rescue Hauk from that fateful Nebula Manor with the ominous Club Dagoth. So Lucien is travelling South at the moment. We shall pick up the story from there in a week or so, I think.

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: Mar 24 2023, 02:58 AM

[Renee]

Ah, was wondering where you went. I am up to 11 Sun's Height, 4E202 - Cheydinhal home. Lena's eating a cheese sandwhich, yumm. Just had one myself for lunch yesterday.,

I just read Traven is still alive and just banned summoning, and it's Year 202! This is intriguing. So Traven wants all battlemages to officially transfer to the Legion, Or else, it seems. Yeah, because he's a control freak.

They just met Delphine. The Blades need her help, which LW is not keen on. But Delphine's trump card: Help us and then you can learn about your father. Cripes. Wonder what that's all about. Lena + Hauk are about to head to Olav's.

I need to start writing the next 'prima. Sometimes it helps to read others' stories first; gets me in the mood, especially if I'm not actively gaming! 🧑‍🚒

I am here

This post has been edited by Renee: Apr 5 2023, 02:59 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Yes, well, Traven is alive in my game, the Mages Guild thing is just only going on here now. How did it happen? Who knows. But that's what we're at. I never completed it before, so it all fits.

Lena's father... yeah, she doesn't know anything about him, he's a mystery. So of course she's got to know, got to find out. You'll see. And Delphine is being her charming self, as usual.

Yeah, I'm still off modding. It's been a bit of a hectic time at work as well, so not feeling like starting a brand new game to play Tribunal DLC with Lucien. Rather make house mods and clean up stuff instead! Digital dollhouses, as my hubby calls them. So a bit of a break in writing.

[Renee]

Digital dollhouses, that's very true. It's like playing dolls, but on a much larger scale!

Wolf Asgarsen. So this was her father? 🐺 She doesn't seem convinced. I love the way each scroll and letter gets opened, one at a time. It's like, sort of dramatic.

"How is Jeanne holding up?" - asked Lena, grinning to the memory of the pranks they played on her.

And then in the next sentence it says Jeanne can levitate. Which is true, right? There are occasionally NPCs in the game which levitate. There are rare but they are there. This is due to glitches of course, but still.


http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?s=&...st&p=337824

This post has been edited by Renee: Apr 26 2023, 04:29 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Well, the name is certainly suggestive. Father's first name being Wolf, that name given as the last name to the child... May be. But it's pretty flimsy as evidence goes! It is a fairly common Nord name, after all. She'll need more proof, something more definitive.

Jeanne levitating... Well, I was referring to the Levitation magic from Morrowind, of course. Just because you forbid something, it does not seize to exist. But with it forbidden, Jeanne is not likely to let anyone know that she masters that particular art.

[Renee]

Right, Wolf is a common Nord name. Similar to "Jones" or "Smith" in English-speaking countries. Or "Gonzales" / "Gomez" / "Fernandes" to Spaniards. Still, I feel like Lena's on the right track.

As I understand, the addition of walled towns meant that we wouldn't be able to just float into civilized areas anymore, and the Levitation Decree (whatever it's called) was Beth's in-game way to explain this. I do like to pretend there's evidence that not everyone follows this doctrine during TES: IV though (NPCs floating / flying occasionally over the years due to glitches), and Jeanne being part of a rumor that she's ignoring this decree confirms this is so. At least, in a pretend sort of way.

Now. 15 Sun's Height. Lena's riding a paint horse. I've always liked the paint, even though they are the slowest (assuming that's not Blossom). Paints are easiest to navigate into rough territory, avoiding boulders and trees and such. Enemies who try to follow a paint into rough territory are going to have a tough time, assuming we can get them stuck behind obstacles which a paint to easily avoid/jump over. Black horses, with their higher speeds, are best for the open road / fields.

Hey, it's the Shrine of the Mudcrab! Hermaeus Mora, that is. 🦀

Oh nice. Lena allows Caranya to keep this amulet, away from Traven. Yeah, because the default Arch Mage isn't really all too trustworthy, in my opinion. And from Your perspective (as the player behind Lena) it's also remarkable that you aren't always choosing to go for the path which guarantees some combat. I am the same way. That could've been a pwnfest, adrenaline rushes and so on. The story is what's more important, though. The story is what Lena wants, after all, whether you see yourself as your character (as mirocu does, for instance) or not.

Drunken Dragon Inn's such a great place to find! As stated, there's a lair nearby to plunder, as well. If I recall, there's also a merchant in the inn to do business, but maybe that's just my mind... playing tricks on me.

http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?s=&...st&p=337902

This post has been edited by Renee: Apr 28 2023, 09:19 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Right, Wolf is a common Nord name. Similar to "Jones" or "Smith" in English-speaking countries. Or "Gonzales" / "Gomez" / "Fernandes" to Spaniards. Still, I feel like Lena's on the right track.

I was rather thinking of it as a first name, and Lena's last name derived from her father's first name (or rather taken over in this case). It is a common Germanic tradition.

Now. 15 Sun's Height. Lena's riding a paint horse. I've always liked the paint, even though they are the slowest (assuming that's not Blossom). Paints are easiest to navigate into rough territory, avoiding boulders and trees and such. Enemies who try to follow a paint into rough territory are going to have a tough time, assuming we can get them stuck behind obstacles which a paint to easily avoid/jump over. Black horses, with their higher speeds, are best for the open road / fields.

Paint horses are Nord horses - heavy duty farming and general work horses. Strong and hardy, if not very fast. I find speeds in Oblivion rather too high anyway, and like you say, a slower horse is easier to steer.

The story is what Lena wants, after all, whether you see yourself as your character (as mirocu does, for instance) or not.

I am Lena Wolf. And I am not... still can't get that daedroth summon to work myself!

[Lena Wolf]

23-28 Sun's Dawn, 4E203 - Vampires

"But why, brother?" Lucien stood over the corpse of a Dark Brotherhood assassin who had attacked him in his sleep. Granted, The Eight Plates in Balmora was not a high security establishment, but still, Lucien had not expected an attempt on his life. A futile attempt, too, for the dead assassin didn't present much of a challenge. Lucien sighed and went back to bed - it was only three in the morning.

The owner of the inn didn't know anything about the attack, she shrugged it off and said that she would have the body removed, and would Lucien like to book another night? She assured him that he would not find a finer inn in all Morrowind... But somehow Lucien wasn't convinced. However, he still had business in Balmora and since there were no other inns in town... he booked another night.

The following night another assassin attacked him. This was getting repetitive, and Lucien decided to make some inquiries.

...

"Good morning, Master," Lucien entered Caius Cosades' house and closed the door behind him. Caius was awake, but not out of bed. "Please don't get up." He handed him his spoon and candle.

"What brings you here, Speaker?" Caius sat up once the burned sugar brought his vision into focus.

"I am here to prevent bloodshed, but it seems that someone objects. I've been attacked in my sleep twice already, by our own assassins, no less. Can you tell me anything of use on the matter?"

"I know of your mission," Caius nodded. "I hear the local chapter of your organisation is having a hard time winning contracts from Morag Tong, which is not surprising," he smirked. "Of course the locals prefer their own guild. Why set up shop in Morrowind at all?" He looked at Lucien with a question in his eyes. If Lucien wanted information from the Spy Master, the Spy Master wanted some information in return.

"Well, we didn't set up shop here, as you say..." Lucien rubbed his chin. "We do not actually have any official branches in Morrowind."

"The two assassins you killed seem to suggest otherwise," Caius smirked, looking at Lucien expectantly. That wasn't enough information to make him share his.

"If there is a rogue group, I'll have to find them, but I didn't expect any and have no contracts on anyone in particular," Lucien said, but Caius still kept silent. "Well... there was a rumour of someone seeing our armour in Mournhold... I was on my way there, in fact."

"Ah." Caius smiled. "You will want to speak with Apelles Matius at the Legion there. Don't expect much, but it will hopefully get the ball rolling. Mention my name if he refuses to talk." Caius stretched for a small bottle on his bedside table. "If you find anything of importance for the Empire, I would appreciate a hint," he smiled.

"Of course," Lucien inclined his head. "As always."

...

Morrowind didn't have horses, and Lucien took one look at a guar without a saddle that he was offered for transportation, and shook his head. Silt striders made him dizzy, and teleportation with the Mages Guild made his skin crawl. Was he the only person in the Empire to bemoan the lack of horses in Morrowind? Probably not. And so he decided to walk.

It would take him a day or two to reach Vivec on foot, what with the usual rats and mating kaguti along the way, so he prepared for a long journey. He would then stop at the Willow Cottage near Vivec before continueing. He hoped no assassins would interrupt his sleep, but he didn't count on it.

...

The assassin that came for him to the Willow Cottage, was clearly more experienced than the previous ones. What's more, he struck while remaining completely invisible. When Lucien finally struck him down and the Chameleon spell fizzled out, he saw that the assassin was a vampire.

"At least this brother is not gone forever," Lucien thought moving him into the storage room of the cottage. "He can lie here until he rises again." He looked into the vampire's features - the vampire had been famished. "Might take a while in your condition," he shook his head. Morrowind was extremely intolerant to vampires. He checked his own wounds - they were serious but not life-threatening; he would need to spend another day there and hope that no one would come for him the following night. He tried to guess whether he had caught Porphyric Hemophilia, but didn't think so. It would not be his first spell of vampirism, but without the purgeblood salts of Deepscorn Hollow, it might become more than a mere nuisance. So far he managed to get each spell cured before he had to feed - he never drank mortal blood, and so his vampirism never became recessive. He was still a true mortal, and he aimed to keep it that way. "Perhaps best stop by a shrine in Vivec, just in case," he thought and hoped that Dunmer saints would not turn away an assassin as most of the Nine did. There were no shrines of Dibella in Morrowind. "We had no purgeblood salts when Lena got infected," he thought of her wondering where she was at that moment. "She stood no chance."

...

Lena was clinging to Roach's neck trying not to fall off - her wounds were deep and the loss of blood made her dizzy. She hoped Roach knew where she was going, and she did. Roach stopped by the water, Lena slid out of the saddle and reached for a trapdoor in the grass, opening it with her key. She nearly fell into the space below, not daring to let go of the ladder. Deepscorn Hollow.

"Mistress..!" She heard hurried footsteps approaching, someone supporting her, she let go of the ladder and blacked out.

...

Cold fever was rushing through Lena's veins, if there is such a thing as cold fever. This cold was burning. It was reaching into the tips of her fingers and engulfing every joint. It made her flesh tingle. Then it subsided, leaving a feeling of calm behind. Calm and cold. Lena slept without any dreams or movement.

...

Lena woke up in the bedroom of Deepscorn Hollow. Someone had brought her there, laid her on the bed after she had collapsed by the entrance. Fenris, of course.

Fenris was sitting in the corner of the room reading a book, or rather waiting for Lena to wake up. When she opened her eyes, he walked over to her bed.

"Forgive me, Mistress, I could not stop your bleeding," he said softly. "Your wounds were too deep."

"But I am not dead..?" Lena sat up, stretched out her hands to look at them. They were pale, with a slight blueish tint, her nails bone white. "Ah." She nodded. "How..?"

Fenris rolled up his sleeve, revealing a fresh cut over his vein. "I just brought it up to your lips, you fed instinctively. I didn't dare to give you mortal blood - if your vampirism had receded, you would not have survived."

"Of course," Lena smiled at him. "Thank you." The hand on the Dark Brotherhood tapestry caught her eye. "This target fought back. He was a mage, a necromancer. Summoned a lich that summoned a wraith, the three of them were hurling frost curses at me... The lich had a sword too! The wraith also!" She shook her head at the many bandages that Fenris applied to her wounds. "I only survived because my vampirism flared..." She shook her head again. This time she came too close to failing her contract. "Vampirism does come handy in my profession... That mage is dead, of course," she added with a smirk.

...

Feeding on Fenris's blood - the blood of a vampire - meant that Lena's vampirism progressed from a recessive form to full, and feeding on mortal blood would no longer drive it in remission, but only strengthen its hold. She now had to take a cure - the purgeblood salts in the basement pool of Deepscorn Hollow should do the trick. But not straight away - switching between different forms of vampirism was taxing for the body, and Lena was not likely to survive it in her present state. On the other hand, the longer she remained a full vampire, the greater was the risk of passing the infection to the child she was carrying, and she wanted to avoid that at all costs. A balance had to be found.

The stress of these worries made her black out again.

...

"Do not fight it! It is the only way," a booming voice spoke from the darkness. "I can grant it to you now - embrace my gift and rise as a Pure-Blood, your wounds healed, your pain extinguished!"

Lena was floating above the bed, an unseen force supporting her from below. She felt light, she felt steady, her cold veins were now carrying strength and agility, spreading it through her body, down to her toes and fingertips. She felt twenty again - not two hundred and twenty, but twenty, like back then. The cold not only washed away the pain, but also painful memories of the past two hundred years. She was young again. Young forever.

The unseen force turned her upright - she was levitating. She was no longer in Deepscorn Hollow. A strangely familiar city spread before her.

"Welcome to my Realm!" The voice sounded closer. "This should be your home. For one like yourself, I'll find a palace or a castle to live in. You will have a clan of your own, you will be the Queen."

"The Wolf Clan with a Wolf Queen, how ironic," Lena smirked. "Well, I don't like necromancers either, but that's taking it a bit far, don't you think?"

She was now flying over the city, with its houses, shops and cathedrals eerily quiet. It was daytime, yet there was no sun, a blueish light like in ancient Ayleid ruins filled the air.

"Why me?" Lena tried to control her movements, but couldn't. "Plenty of vampires in Cyrodiil, why do you want me?"

"Because you keep defying him, of course!" A new, mocking voice spoke in her head. "He can't have it, oh no! Not our Prince of Domination!"

"Silence!!" Molag Bal's rage sounded over Sheogorath's cackle. "Get out of my Realm!!"

"I am not in your Realm," Sheogorath cackled again. "I am in this mortal's head. You may lay claim on her blood, but her mind belongs to me!"

"Quiet!!" Lena screamed, and the force holding her in the air vanished. She landed on the pavement of the Hollow City, the seriousness of her situation suddenly becoming obvious. She was in Coldharbour, whether she wanted it or not. Could she keep resisting Molag Bal even here, in his own Realm?

"Mistress!" A passer-by bowed to her in respect.

"See, they know you already!" Molag Bal's triumphant voice sounded again. "You are home, Wolf."

...

The voices in Lena's head went quiet, both Princes left her be, it seemed. She walked the streets of the Hollow City, and wherever she looked, buildings, gardens and monuments appeared just as she pictured them in her mind moments ago. "This is how Sheogorath must be building his Realm," she thought. Something Haskill had said the very first time they met in answer to her question why the Realm was the way it was: "Because my Lord wills it so." She could never alter the Shivering Isles that way - she may have been Sheogorath's Champion, but he didn't resign his Realm to her. But Molag Bal? He was gifting her that city, it seemed. Tempting... oh so very tempting...

Lena entered a cathedral. It looked just like one of the grand cathedrals in Cyrodiil, but the stained glass windows did not depict the Nine. They did not depict anything in particular, coloured bits of glass formed random patterns. Altars stood under the windows, but what blessings did they grant? Lost in thought, she peered into the stained glass again, looking for Arkay by force of habit... and for a very brief moment, his image appeared, then vanished just as quickly. Lena dashed to the altar beneath it, touching it lightly and feeling the warmth of the stone that she did not expect. "Save me..!" Her prayer to the God of Life and Death was brief but intense.

Pain engulfed her and she collapsed onto the stone floor.

...

"Mistress!" Fenris was pressing his arm to Lena's lips, and Lena fed instinctively. Her wounds were oozing dark undead blood - her blood. The bandages that Fenris had placed over them previously, were soaked through. "I had no choice..." He kept dipping a cloth into some infusion and pressing it to her wounds. Eventually Lena let go of his arm, and he quickly set about changing the bandages, applying more and more infusion to the wounds until the bleeding stopped. "You won't be able to feed on mortal blood until your wounds close," he said with a sigh. "I am sorry."

"What happened?" Lena tried to make sense of what seemed like an impossible memory.

"You... died," Fenris stumbled. "I had to bring you back. I am sorry if..." he broke off.

Her child. The room was filled with the aroma of nightshade extract - a substance of life and death that allowed to pass from one realm to the next and back... But what would it do to her child..?

Lena never welcomed a kick into the liver more than at that moment. Her child lived.

"Thank you, Arkay!" She whispered.

[Lena Wolf]

1 First Seed, 4E203 - The Dark Brotherhood

"You are either soft in the head or suicidal," Apelles Matius looked at Lucien in disbelief. "The Dark Brotherhood, ideed! What would they want with you? I'm sure they have real targets to pursue. Besides, if they were really after you, you wouldn't be standing here telling me about it," he smirked at his own witticism. "Who are you, anyway?" He squinted, suddenly realising that the Imperial standing before him seemed different from most Imperials who dwelled in Morrowind. He didn't look lost.

"I am just a concerned citizen, really," Lucien smiled amicably. "I have recently arrived from Cyrodiil, and I don't intend to stay - it's a business trip, you see. So I was rather surprised by the attacks." He smiled again, indicating that he was still hoping for a more comprehensive reply.

"Surprised, yes, if they were indeed the Dark Brotherhood, as you claim," Apelles Matius still didn't give in. "Camona Tong more likely, or just some local rogue aiming to rob you. Nothing to do with me, the Legion or the Empire!" He puffed his cheeks looking offended. "What proof do you have?"

"Well..." Lucien cleared his throat in hesitation. "Caius didn't think I'd need any, so I didn't bother with it..." He looked timidly at the Legion officer before him, who now resembled a pufferfish ready to blow rather than an enraged bull from a moment ago. "I was hoping to get to the bottom of it, for his benefit as well as my own."

"The Spy Master..?" Apelles Matius was taken aback. "You working for him..?" He shook his head in disbelief and took a step back. "I don't want to cross the path of the Spy Master or to have anything to do with intelligence," he said stiffly. "Go to Mournhold. They are there. Investigate if you must. I have no clue what they want with you. There's a mage here who can teleport you. Don't come back." Six short sentences, six steps backwards, a sharp turn on his heels and a march in the opposite direction was all Lucien was going to get that day.

"Nothing to do with intelligence indeed," he smirked to himself. "What a cliche."

...

Lucien was in Ebonheart and needed to go to Mournhold. His original plan was to travel overland, but he had admittedly forgotten about the lack of horses in Morrowind - it would be too far to walk on foot and too hard to avoid bandits and wild animals, since he could not outrun them as well as Shadowmere could. The prospect of such a journey looked tedious, and so he chose teleportation, even if it did make his skin crawl.

Arriving in Mournhold, he found himself dizzier than usual. Not that he was used to teleportation at all, but somehow he imagined arriving more in one piece. "Of course I'm still in one piece," he told himself. "My arms and legs didn't get switched either... It only seems that way." He looked around, noting the lavish surroundings and many doors. "The Royal Palace?" That realisation didn't help.

"The gardens are that way," an Argonian hissed at him. "Go find a bench," he squinted. "Dilettantes!"

...

The best way to get your bearings in a new city is to talk to everyone, and Lucien set out to do just that. And yet, he was not your usual adventurer who would get involved in saving damsels beset by rats and such. Even an apparent goblin army under the city did not stir his curiosity. Some people started to wonder just what was he looking for in their city of splendour.

What Lucien was looking for, was of course the Dark Brotherhood. And it didn't take long to find them either - one of the first people he spoke to, told him that there was a group of Dark Brotherhood assassins in the sewers under the Grand Bazaar. "Another cliche," Lucien thought. "Could have come up with that myself, really." He would go there in time and confront them, but first he wanted to see what they would do, now that he was in the city. "If they have a contract on my life, they should keep coming for me," he reasoned. "Or else they are imposters, like that Skyrim group." And so he took up rooms at The Winged Guar and prepared to wait.

...

Several days have passed during which time Lucien explored the entire above-ground part of the city, even including the Royal Palace, as far as a tourist like himself would be permitted. He bought several maps, correcting each of them with the things that he discovered, and marking entrances into the sewers. He memorised the looks of the areas near each exit, so that should he emerge from underground in a hurry, he would instantly know where he was. He even made friends with the Argonian mage in the lobby of the Royal Palace where he arrived - that seemed to be the only way out of that enlightened place.

And yet not one assassin came for him in all that time. This surprised and annoyed Lucien - annoyed because it was unprofessional, indicating that the group in the sewers was a group of rogues, not having anything to do with the discipline of the real Brotherhood. "I wonder what keeps them back," he mused. "Is it the abundance of guards or the proximity of the Royal Palace? And why would they be afraid of either? It never stopped any of us..."

The lack of attempts on his life also made him wonder why someone wanted him dead in the first place. Oh, he could think of any number of reasons why people would want him dead, but this wasn't any of those vendettas. What's more, there was no Morag Tong branch in Mournhold, at least not one he knew of or could locate, and he found that strange, too. Things just didn't add up. The so-called Dark Brotherhood was attacking a Dark Brotherhood Speaker, but only in areas that also had a Morag Tong presence... How strange.

...

After several days walking around, Lucien got bored. The city was squeaky clean, with more ordinators than citizens in the streets. Wide empty avenues and unnaturally quiet "Grand Bazaar" were getting on his nerves. Oh, the city was far from empty - there were plenty of customers at The Winged Guar, the only inn in town. It all felt strange, somehow...

"But what do you expect?" An alchemist at the Bazaar raised an eyebrow and squinted at a passing ordinator. "With all the guards, no one feels at ease. There's life at the Royal Palace, but you have to be associated with the Royal family to live there, of course. There's also apparently life at the Temple, but there... I don't know what you have to do to be admitted. Almalexia thinks herself a goddess..." The young alchemist said quickly, then clapped her hand over her mouth. "Almalexia is our beloved goddess," she proclaimed confidently after a short pause.

"But..." Lucien quickly looked over his shoulder - the guard was out of earshot. "Wasn't Almalexia killed just before the Oblivion Crisis?" He asked softly.

The alchemist nodded and repeated: "Almalexia is our beloved goddess." Then after a pause she added in a barely audible whisper: "And her ghost as well."

This was intriguing and Lucien went to the Temple.

"The Goddess does not admit just anyone," the guard looked at him with disdain. "Have you been invited? No. That says it, really."

Of course there would be ways to get invited, Lucien was sure of it. But whether Almalexia was a ghost or a lich, he really didn't care, and it made no difference to him. The Tribunal clearly held sway over Morrowind, he noticed it on Vvardenfell too, and they've done it for centuries. They would have no reason to send assassins after him.

"It is curious however that this city houses both a goddess and a king," he thought walking towards the Royal Palace. "Perhaps the King wishes for more power. Kings are often like that."

...

"King Helseth doesn't see just anyone," a guard stopped Lucien from entering the Throne Room. "Have you been invited for an audience? No. So try one of the doors leading out."

Here again, there would definitely be ways to get invited. And again, Lucien didn't care for it. There was nothing else left but to go and confront the "Dark Brotherhood" assassins in the sewers.

...

"There you are!!!" Someone shouted and attacked Lucien on sight. Several other attackers joined in, all clad in dark, smooth leather armour. Their faces were covered as well, they looked identical.

"Well no, you are not quintuplets," Lucien thought, twisting and turning, parrying and lunging. "You don't all have the same skills or weapons either." When the floor was littered with bodies, Lucien had a chance to examine them closely. They wore what looked like Dark Brotherhood armour and wielded an assortment of generic weapons. He found the assassins in the sewers. "Right, now let's find your leader."

Although Lucien had won that fight, he did not come off unscathed. His wounds would require treatment, but he wanted to finish his investigation then and there rather than leave and come back to another fight. He decided to proceed with caution from then on and cloaked in chameleon.

He noted several dozens more assassins along the way, and wondered whether the leader was one of them, indistinguishable from the rest. "Probably not," he thought, smirking at his own attire which was different from the armour worn by his subordinates. Finally he noticed a Dunmer without a face mask and wearing some other kind of armour. "Looks expensive," Lucien thought. "This must be the leader." The Dunmer seemed to be bored - he paced the room without purpose, picking a book here, a scroll there, reading a bit, tossing it aside, taking a sip from his hip flask, pacing some more... And so when he was distracted with another book, Lucien slipped a poisoned apple into the Dunmer's pocket. All he had to do now, was wait.

...

Sitting with his legs crossed behind some crates, Lucien had a chance to look around. The guard who told him about the whereabouts of the assassins, did mention that they occupied "The Old Manor". Lucien didn't pay much attention to the description at first, but now, looking at the carvings on the walls and smoothly worked ceilings, he realised that these halls must have been built for a rich family - this was indeed a manor. Or rather, a ruin of an ancient manor. "Much like the Dwemer ruins in Skyrim," he thought. The atmosphere was somehow similar too; there were no automatons, but the doors and possibly parts of the walls were metal - he could tell from the echos. It was an altogether eery place, and poorly illuminated. Assassins in identical suits of armour were pacing the corridors, and Lucien counted over twenty. "This is a very large group," he thought, keeping an eye on their leader who still hadn't tasted the apple. "This is far larger than any Sanctuary. We would never keep a cell as large as that. This is more of an army."

Suddenly a dull thump in the room occupied by their leader interrupted his observations. One bite of the apple was all it took. The assassins noticed their leader's demise, they were running around in panic looking for the intruder, but Lucien kept quiet behind the crates, even though his legs were going numb from crouching for so long. He needed the place to be quiet so that he could go through the dead man's pockets.

Eventually the assassins calmed down and walked away, returning to their conversations about the wonders of the Imperial City and the local mudcrabs and goblins, and Lucien slipped into their leader's room and quickly checked his pockets. One scroll stood out from the rest, and it was a contract on his life. "Well, as good as," he noted, for the scroll was requesting the death of "that black-haired Imperial wearing a black robe with belts over it and some strange bracers". "Yep, that'd be me," he grinned, pocketing it, cloaking in chameleon and quietly leaving The Old Manor. It wasn't the right time to study the scroll; his room at The Winged Guar would be a much more comfortable place for that.

[Renee]

Me too (in regards to horse speeds being ridiculously high.... but also slow sometimes). And that's not even getting into the speeds bipedal beings can achieve....

Anyway, where was I?

I am Lena Wolf. And I am not... still can't get that daedroth summon to work myself!

That'd be so awesome if you could. Just imagine. I wouldn't want to summon anything, but damn... having the ability to go invisible at will would be pretty sweet! That's what I'd want.

I always felt that this quest line was too linear - there were no choices in it at all. So I decided to change it. biggrin.gif I tried to modify the quests themselves, with only partial success, so there won't be any "Alternative Mages Guild Quest Line" mod released because I can't figure out how to make it right... and because I don't have to - I can fudge it through the console.

I have this idea to add Requirements to all the Cyrodiilic guilds, which means if we haven't got the necessary skills/Attributes this leads to an alternate dialog being said by the guild our guy or gal's trying to join. "Sorry, but we feel you do not meet our current standards, please return after X..." (X being 'you have gained more worldly knowledge / have studied to the point of gaining insights... etc.'). But it's one of those ambitious ideas I've never gotten around to doing. Probably some other mods (like OOO) do this sort of thing as well.

Then again, that's a Morrowind idea. The guilds and houses of MW do this sort of thing because of all the conflicts in that game. In Cyrodiil / 3rd Era, they seem to be taking anyone in, especially because they need all the help they can get as the Crisis unfolds.

Anyway, where the heck was I? Lena's just spoken to Traven. "He doesn't have many mages left who'll do anything for him" she says. Ha ha ha ha that's very true.

Uh oh, Lucien is here. *Love scene*

Alright, this is really neat. You've outlined a timeline for the events of your gameworld, that's really lovely. Oh wow. "In 3E413 Lena's mother Lillian Delacour had a son. As she was a Dark Brotherhood assassin, and her son's father was a high placed citizen of the Empire, their relationship was clandestine and they decided to send the boy away to the Northern Realms to be raised as a witcher of the School of the Wolf. He later became known as Geralt of Rivia,"

So Geralt is Lena's brother? Am I reading that right?

Lena joined the Mages Guild and sounds like she did the Main Quest as well. Dark Brotherhood, too.

Hauk and Lucien knew each other before Lena met Hauk, I see. Lena is also Dragonborn. 🐉 Geralt eventually became involved with Lena at some point. Again, are they bro & sis, or did I read that wrong?

http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?s=&...st&p=338017

[Lena Wolf]

That timeline changed slightly by now, but only slightly. You will come across another chronology later on.

Yes, Geralt is Lena's brother. But they didn't grow up together as you see here. In fact, they only met and discovered that they were siblings when Lena went to the Northern Realms. She stayed there for a year or so, then returned to Cyrodiil. Geralt followed some years later, arriving in Skyrim. I won't tell any more because the next few episodes from your bookmark are going to pick up that story.

[Lena Wolf]

3 First Seed, 4E203 - H

Back at The Winged Guar, Lucien locked the door of his room, barred it for good measure, poured himself a glass of very expensive Imperial Tamika West Weald, and set about examining his wounds and his findings.

"Back at home this bottle would have cost me... what? 4 septims? 8 perhaps? Not 87 like in good old Morrowind..." he smirked, but wasn't willing to drink the local brew. He hoped that several suits of Dark Brotherhood armour and half a dozen fancy looking swords that he picked up along the way, would help with the wine fund.

He twisted to remove the swords stuck into his belt, and a sharp pain under the ribs reminded him to reconsider his priorities. The inn didn't have a bath, which meant he would have to make do with bandages and restoration magic. He finished offloading the gear, took off his robe and examined the damage.

"I'll live, most likely," he concluded. "But there is internal bleeding." With his limited means that meant magic, then back to mainland in search of "professional" treatments. "Caius would know where to find what I need," he decided. "He's been in a few fights himself, and lived..."

With this understatement of an era, he took a closer look at the Dark Brotherhood armour in his possession.

"Good workmanship, smooth leather, but not quite our style," he concluded. "This is not our armour."

Next, he turned to the scroll that he retrieved from the leader of the assassins.

"This is a most peculiar document..." he read through it. "And what was it that the Dunmer murmoured with his dying breath..?" Lucien strained to remember. "Tell my leige that I have failed... What a strange request to make of the one you were trying to kill. And who is this 'H'?"

The Bearer of this document, under special dispensation of the Night Mother, who has entered in a contract in perpetuity with H, is given special dispensation to execute a certain ex-prisoner recently residing on the island of Vvardenfell. In accordance with all laws and traditions, the afore-mentioned personage will be executed in the name of H in the most expedient manner possible. All services of the Dark Brotherhood are at the disposal of the Bearer of this binding and non-disputable document.

The word "ex-prisoner" was crossed out, and a note in a different handwriting was added underneath:

That dark-haired Imperial wearing a black robe with belts over it and some strange bracers.

"Well, the contract is now here, with me. And it does say that the bearer of the document is to get all support, etc." Lucien smirked. "But perhaps I shouldn't test my luck with the assassins again. Who are they, I wonder? And what's with the goblins? No goblins I know can afford that kind of weapons or show that kind of discipline..."

Mulling these things over and sipping his wine, he finally fell asleep. No assassin came for him that night.

...

Lucien's wounds were too serious to be ignored, and he prescribed himself bedrest and regular trips to the Royal Palace and the Temple for healing - both provided healing services, so the more the merrier. He only needed to get patched up sufficiently to make the trip back to Balmora, where, he was sure, Caius would help him.

At the Royal Palace he overheard a conversation between guards. They were talking about the King, and they referred to him as "H". King Hlaalu Helseth. Could he be the mysterious "H" in the Dark Brotherhood contract? That document had nothing to do with the Night Mother, Lucien was sure of that, at least not with the real Night Mother - he'd heard there was some woman in Ald Sotha claiming to be the "Morrowind Night Mother", or the head of the Dark Brotherhood in Morrowind. "More fairy tales," Lucien dismissed it. Oh, he had no doubt that there was a woman calling herself the Night Mother and all that. It's just she wasn't the real one.

"If 'H' is really King Helseth... That would explain the army of assassins in The Old Manor which just happens to be directly under the Royal Palace," Lucien was turning over the scroll. "That would also explain where the money for all their quality armour and weapons come from," he agreed with himself. "But why? What is the King planning? Or perhaps he decided that assassins were more reliable than goblins?" He smirked. "A goblin army! The whole city is talking about it already." The din in the inn behind his door was getting louder as the evening advanced. "But why want to kill me?" He returned to the scroll. "And who is this 'ex-prisoner' that they wanted to kill originally?" He paused in thought. "No..! Well, it would fit... Things are worse than I had expected."

The following morning he left for Balmora, sincerely hoping that all the teleportation and silt strider travel would not cause his inner organs to find their way to the outside through his reopened wounds.

[Lena Wolf]

6 First Seed, 4E203 - The enemy of my enemy must be my friend

"This is most worrying," Caius shook his head reading the scroll that Lucien handed him. "Yes, the 'ex-prisoner' must be who you think it is, but he didn't report any attacks, so I suppose he either got lucky, or they started a bit late and switched to you very quickly. It isn't about your renegade member - Rayenna, was it?" He shot a glance at Lucien who nodded. "No, this is much, much bigger..." He focussed on the scroll again. "I'm sure 'H' is King Helseth. He's been trying to increase his influence for ages... At this point it seems that any disturbance in Morrowind would be in his interest, including a war of assassins..."

"Which he would of course quell and restore universal peace," Lucien smirked.

"Quite." Caius passed the scroll back to Lucien. "Hauk will need to be told, since he's the 'ex-prisoner', even though the danger for him has passed. But he can then go back to Eno and report, and that will complete your mission."

"Where is he?" Lucien winced involuntarily realising that going in search of Hauk would mean a lot of travelling, and his half-healed wounds were still bothering him. However, he needed to speak to Hauk himself. "I shall also need to wait until he'll have spoken to Eno Hlaalu," he pointed out.

Caius did not object. "Actually, he is in Balmora," he winked and handed Lucien a note with a name of a healer, and Lucien knew that it would be more than just common Restoration magic.

...

"Nice place you have here," Lucien was sitting on the roof terrace of Hauk's house in Balmora, and Hauk had seen him from a good distance away. "Hello."

"Come in," Hauk motioned Lucien to follow and unlocked the door, grateful that his friend did not take the liberty of breaking in and waiting for him inside. "I have a bath in the basement," Hauk said in passing, noticing Lucien wince as he turned. "And did Caius..?"

"Yes," Lucien nodded. "The healer. But that's not why I came to see you." The seriousness in his voice stopped Hauk in his tracks. "King Helseth is trying to trigger a war of assassins," Lucien said without a preamble. "You tell Eno that. He's got an army of so-called 'Dark Brotherhood' assassins in the ruins under his palace in Mournhold. They may not be Dark Brotherhood, but they are well armed, well armoured and well trained. This would be very bloody. Tell Eno not to fall for the provocation."

"So this has nothing to do with Rayenna, then?" Hauk wanted to be sure.

"Nothing," Lucien nodded. "There is a woman in Ald Sotha that calls herself the Night Mother of Morrowind, and it was apparently she who entered into a contract with the King. I don't know what her role really is, but she sounds like a recruitment agent. Eno may want to take care of her."

"Very well." Hauk was making mental notes. Then, realising that Lucien was finished with his message, he delivered one of his own. "Your father sends his regards."

Lucien froze for a moment, then relaxed, looking puzzled, if anything. He did not need to pretend with Hauk. "I am glad he is well," he finally said. "Anything else?"

"The Salvel ancestral tomb is inside the Ghost Fence," Hauk said matter-of-factly. "He didn't think it was time yet, but he did ask me to tell you about it. That would be the place to meet." He watched Lucien's face, then added: "Some day."

Lucien nodded. They sat in silence for a while.

"What's next with Rayenna though?" Hauk got up and started putting food and drink on the table. The topic of Rayenna was less of a strain for both of them.

"Well, she's still a danger, and you never know what Mephala has in store for her," Lucien shrugged. "We still need to find her, but it is more of a personal issue now."

"Can I kill her now?" Hauk asked impatiently. "Since she has nothing to do with the threat of the war of assassins?"

"Please do," Lucien smiled.

...

"Where are you staying?" Hauk was watching Lucien wince again and again. "That wound has reopened."

"The Eight Plates I suppose," Lucien shrugged.

Hauk shook his head. "Wait here."

He got up and left the house.

...

"Optio," a Dunmer greeted Hauk in a spacious hall dimly lit with red oil lamps. Hauk could have sworn that the Dunmer paled.

"I need to see your Master," Hauk smiled.

...

"Optio," Ethasi Rilvayn repeated the greeting when Hauk walked into her room. "We have received instructions from the Grandmaster. What assistance may I offer you?"

"A friend of mine requires secure accommodation while he is recovering from a wound with internal bleeding," he beamed at Ethasi. "His father is a Brother with your order."

"But?" Ethasi sensed trouble.

"He is a Dark Brotherhood Speaker."

"And you believe that accommodation at a Morag Tong Guildhall would qualify as 'secure' for one like himself?" Her laughter was viciously sharp. "Pray, bring him in."

"I am serious," Hauk insisted. "He is in Morrowind on a mission vital to both your organisations. Should he be harmed, you will have more than the wrath of your Grandmaster to contend with. I have to travel to Vivec as soon as possible, and I have to be sure of his safety."

The seriousness of Hauk's tone, his reputation and track record of the last 30 years, and the orders from the Grandmaster to offer him every assistance, all weighed on Ethasi. As uncomfortable as she was with allowing a member of the Dark Brotherhood to set foot in their Guildhall, she felt she could not refuse.

"Very well, on your head be it," she hissed through her teeth. "But only for as long as absolutely necessary!" She glared at Hauk. "He leaves as soon as he can ride! We'll even get him a horse!" She glared again, as if she was offering to procure a tame daedroth. "And he'll need to clear the room he'll be staying in!" She added with an afterthought. "It's a very secure room, and we will even remove the corpse for his convenience afterwards," she smiled. "What is his name?"

"Lucien Lachance," Hauk beamed at her. "And thank you." He turned to leave.

"What?!" Ethasi paled, her rage nearly boiling over. "He!! Never!!"

"Is there a problem?" Hauk turned around to face her again. "Or do I need to ask Eno to post a bodyguard for Azarath's son?"

Ethasi was torn. She did not want to disobey the orders of their Grandmaster Eno Hlaalu, for that would not only mean her removal from the post of Master but possibly removal from Nirn as well. She also did not want to cross Azarath Salvel, a Morag Tong Brother with a long standing reputation... But to allow Lucien Lachance into her Guildhall... Lucien Lachance, the very assassin who cost her many a member and several targets... a man she considered her archenemy... a son of Azarath Salvel? No! Impossible! But what if it was true nonetheless? And his mission... She'd heard rumours of another war of assassins being stirred up, she knew that both Morag Tong and the Dark Brotherhood would try to avoid it... Then, what if... What if this wretched Imperial Speaker was in fact involved in that very mission and got wounded in the process? In which case it would be her duty to offer him every assistance... By the ancestors! How was she to know what to do?!

Hauk was watching Ethasi's face waiting for her to make the right decision.

"He won't abuse your hospitality," he said softly. "His wife in Cyrodiil is in the final month of pregnancy, he will be eager to leave as soon as he possibly can." Ethasi's face softened at this but she was still hesitating. "And of course Eno will hear of your incredible gesture of good will."

"Oh all right," she finally gave in. "Have him come in. I guarantee his safety," she sighed.

A Dunmer outside the door took his ear from the keyhole and sighed a sigh of relief.

...

Of course Lucien could not believe his ears when Hauk told him that he'd arranged lodgings for him at the Morag Tong Guildhall.

"I don't think that nixhound meat and kwama eggs agree with your constitution," he looked at Hauk in bewilderment. "Have you gone mad? They'll slit my throat at the first opportunity!"

"They won't, but you will need to slit a few throats to clear the room you'll be staying in," Hauk was serious. "They will protect you, assist with healing and even get you a horse to take you home. Alive," he added, just to be sure. "Your father's name carries weight in this organisation," he grinned.

Lucien shook his head but agreed after some consideration. If Hauk thought it would be safe, he had nothing to worry about.

...

Lucien's stay with Morag Tong in Balmora was indeed safe and largely uneventful. The fact that he had to kill another Morag Tong member locked in the room they reserved for him was a bit peculiar, but Lucien chose not to worry about it. The infusions that they gave him were effective, if also mildly sedative, and it didn't take long before Lucien was ready to leave.

"Ride to the Shadow Pass," a Dunmer handed the reins of a Bay horse to Lucien. "You'll need to cross the mountains into Cyrodiil through a cavernous passage, you can't take a horse through there anyway," he continued his instructions. "Let the horse go, she'll make her way home," he patted her. "You'll come out not far from Malada. There you're on your own." He watched Lucien mount the horse and check his map. "Good luck, brother," he added softly.

[Lena Wolf]

21 First Seed, 4E203 - Concessions and bonds

Lucien was riding hard, even his Shadowmere was getting tired. His mission in Morrowind completed, he was eager to return home. He hoped he wasn't too late - Lena's term was quickly approaching. "Another week or two may be, but then she's really due," he was thinking. He had been the first to notice when Lena conceived, even before she realised it herself - his training with the Temple of Dibella in his youth had taught him to read the signs. He loathed having to leave her on her own in her final month of pregnancy, but if a war of assassins had broken out, it would have been far worse. "She'd gone to the Shivering Isles," he was thinking and shaking his head. "That was supposed to be a safe place away from Mephala... Instead she walked right into the second Greymarch... Let's hope her friends there kept her away from the worst of the fighting." He smirked to that thought - he didn't believe it himself.

Finally the towers of Cheydinhal appeared in the distance. By force of habit, Lucien directed Shadowmere to take the path to the East of the city - to Fort Farragut, but then changed his mind, there would be time for that later. Shadowmere was just a horse, after all, so... "And why not," he thought and rode to the stables. "You like carrots, don't you," he patted the horse as he dismounted. "I think they've got carrots. You'll like it here, you'll see." Shadowmere snorted, looked around at the other horses in the paddock and firmly turned her backside to them.

"Do not worry about a thing, Muthsera," the stable hand smiled at Lucien. "It is an honour." Yes, people knew who he was. He entered the city and the guards at the gate straightened up, if not actually saluted him.

"Good to see you," Garrus greeted him jovially when they passed each other in the street. "No, not yet," he shook his head at Lucien's questioning glance. "She's got a friend with her - a very old friend, by the looks of things. They just got here a few days ago, I haven't met him yet."

"Him?" Lucien frowned slightly.

"Well... You know she doesn't trust women," Garrus shrugged. Lucien knew that of course, and the affair with Rayenna was still raw on his mind, so there was another proof why women were not to be trusted, at least from Lena's point of view. He would just have to come to terms with the fact that in the two hundred years that passed between the night in Bravil and the night in the Dawnstar Sanctuary, Lena had formed a few other bonds... as did he. "Or rather," he thought, "my bonds were formed before we met, but she was still so young... And I wasn't with her, I chose my freedom then. Well, and now she's got bonds that I must honour." He sighed and resolved not to jump to conclusions until he met Lena's friend.

...

"It's happening!" Lena was crying out in pain as her belly started to cramp. "Arrgghh! I don't think I can walk!"

She and Scorpio were having lunch in Lena's house in Cheydinhal. Scorpio had insisted on accompanying Lena when she finally left the Shivering Isles - the road was long and he wasn't letting her travel alone. He could protect her from wolves, bandits and zombies alike, but he had no clue what to do if her baby was really coming.

"Err... Come lie on the bed!" That was the one thing he could think of. "What is supposed to happen now?"

"I don't know!" Lena cried. "It's my first child! Arrgghh!!"

"You need help," he decided. "But not healing... this isn't a wound... err..." He was frantically trying to think what he could do, but didn't dare to use any magic in case it harmed to baby somehow. By Arkay, he wasn't a healer!

"That's it - chapel!" Lena managed to say between cramps. "They've got healers... get one."

The Chapel of Arkay was just across the street from Lena's house, so Scorpio didn't feel too bad about leaving Lena alone - it wouldn't be for long.

...

Lucien pushed the door finding it unlocked. This was Lena's house to start with, and now it was their family home.

"Wolf?" He cried running up the stairs, fearing the worst. But instead he found his wife on the bed clutching her belly in cramps. "Already?!" He ran up to her, checking her over. "I am not a healer, but I think it's a false alarm," he tried to soothe her. "I'll fetch one..."

"Where is she?" Worried voices coming from downstairs broke off his sentence. "Upstairs? Did you prepare hot water? Towels? No? Men! You've got to learn if you're going to be a father!"

"I'm not the..."

"Oh." A Khajiit stopped dead at the top of the stairs as soon as she saw Lucien bending over Lena. "That's... We are too late." Her voice fell.

"No, that's her husband, I think," Scorpio stood right behind the Khajiit on the stairs and now gently pushed her up. "Didn't you know? Well, no matter. She's pregnant and needs your help!"

The Khajiit caught herself, nodded and firmly walked over to Lena's bed, although her ears being flat against her head, were betraying fear and confusion. Lucien got up, smiled and took a step back. "False alarm, I think," he said in a quiet voice. "Just the first cramps."

After a short examination and a mild healing spell, the Khajiit confirmed his conclusion.

"Not yet," she nodded. "This will pass, dear," she was stroking Lena's belly and the cramps were calming down. "You'll have many more cramps like that before the kit is ready to be born. But it isn't far off! A week, may be two..."

Lucien accompanied the healer downstairs.

"Can we count on you when the time comes?" He asked in a low voice. "You have nothing to fear, of course. And our gold is as good as anyone else's, I trust?"

"Of course," the Khajiit was much more relaxed now. "I'm new here, don't know that many people yet, but I've heard of you... well... I recognised your robe," she sighed. "The Primate objects when your wife comes to offer her prayers to Arkay... But I've seen Arkay bestow his blessing, and the Primate can do nothing but stare. We'll help, of course. Do you want me to have a look at that wound? Seems serious, you're still bleeding." She pointed at a wet spot on Lucien's robes, it was slowly spreading.

"Damn, it opened again," Lucien pressed his hand against it, blood coloured his fingers red. "No, thanks, I'll handle it. I've had a lot of practice," he smiled.

The healer left. Lena was coming down the stairs, her cramps calmed, Scorpio was some distance behind her. She hugged Lucien, and after a few moments' greeting, she pulled away.

"Bath, now," she pushed the basement door where they had the tub. "You are bleeding."

"I've got to go see Ocheeva first," Lucien shook his head. "This is just a..."

"This is not just a flesh wound," Lena interrupted him. "You're pale, you lost a lot of blood. Tell me what to say to Ocheeva, give me what needs to be delivered, I'll go."

They stood in the basement and Lena opened the tap to fill the bath. The door to the Sanctuary passage was behind her, and she fumbled for a key. Lucien smiled and pulled some scrolls from his robe, edges brown with dried blood.

"Who is your friend?" He asked softly. "We didn't have time for introductions."

"Scorpio," Lena smiled. "Did I tell you about him? I must have done. He is my..." She stopped herself, 'pawn' would have sounded meaningless and quite rude. "My companion from Gransys. From a long time ago... Before Albion even. Scorpio is the one man besides you, with whom I have a bond. Those marriages in Albion that the priests had dug up, they meant nothing. The bond to Scorpio..." She lowered her eyes and blushed. What a mess! And how to explain it?

"So, he is the one to watch, then," Lucien spoke in a low voice too. "Nothing like your other friends."

"And yet if it weren't for him, I would not have been here, in Cyrodiil," Lena looked in Lucien's eyes. "He insisted I shouldn't give up my first bond, as he put it. And it was before we got together, my Speaker, this was before I ever dared... except that one night in Bravil... My Speaker would ever just be my Brother, I told myself, I was ready to stay in Gransys with him, but no, if it weren't for him..." She lowered her eyes again, this was confusing and she wasn't doing such a good job of explaining... Would she have to choose now? She knew whom she would choose, but losing Scorpio again would be so painful.

Lucien was watching her and remembering those few occasions when he saw the same confusion in Lena, the same struggle between her respect for him as her Speaker and her passion for him as a man. "I let the respect win on most occasions, allowed myself to pull away," he thought. "Yet I should have known... That night in Bravil... I took what she offered, but didn't follow up until so much later... Yes, I was busy... What a stupid excuse!" Ocheeva's face rose before his eyes. "That girl loves you," she said when he hinted at what had happened. "She'll disappear because she's afraid of what she's done, she'll deny to herself it ever happened. But she did it on purpose, and you accepted her gift. If you lose sight of her now, it will be a long time before she comes back." Ocheeva was right, a "long time" turned out to be two hundred years. Lucien chose to wait, he wasn't ready for her then, perhaps. Well, then he had to accept her now, accept the other bond that she made while he was staying away.

He took her in an embrace and kissed her.

"I have no say in that," he said in her ear. "It is your bond to keep. It's not one just for fun, either. My bond to you still holds."

They must have stood there for a long time, holding each other in an embrace, memories rushing through their minds. Then Lucien's hand slipped off Lena's shoulder, she caught him and pulled him up to a chair. His wound made him black out.

...

Lucien opened his eyes. The room around him seemed familiar. He was cold. Slowly things came into focus. He was lying in a bath tub filled with ice in their house in Cheydinhal. He heard voices.

"Stubborn, as usual," a female Argonian was trying to whisper but it kept coming out as a hiss. "I hear he rode his horse nearly to death as well," she shook her head. "That wound should have been treated days ago."

"I didn't want to stay there an extra week with Wolf in her condition," he said. "I'll recover." He tried to get out of the bath but slid back into it, his strength failing him.

"You will let us handle it, Speaker," Ocheeva came into view. "Your burial chamber isn't ready yet. You have a child on the way. Do as you're told, and you might live to see it being born." She gave him a look sharper than her Sufferthorn and bared her many pointed teeth. "You are to stay in that bath until all your wounds close, and I for one still see pink oozing from somewhere." She pointed at a few droplets of fresh blood slowly dissolving in cold water.

"Yes, Sister," Lucien smiled and closed his eyes. Everyone except Ocheeva left the basement. Ocheeva pulled up a chair, moved a few bits of ice around trying to see which wound was still bleeding, then shuddered from the cold. Lucien opened his eyes again, watching her worried face. "I won't die just yet," he said. "But you were so right back then... let her slip away and she won't be back for a long time... Why did I allow that? We could have found her if we tried."

"You weren't ready, Lucien," she shook her head. "The time has to be right. She wasn't ready either. Too young. A vampire. She had to find her feet, first."

"Vicente is a vampire, so what?"

"Vicente is three hundred years old, not barely seventeen as she was then."

To an outsider, it may have sounded as an argument that didn't make much sense, but for Lucien and Ocheeva it was a conversation that touched upon many memories and evoked many visions, as is the way with very old friends.