If mALX is back, then Clark should return too.

We left him in Evergloam at the beginning of the 4th Era, where Nocturnal had just inducted him and Minx as Nightingales, to join Dralsi. The two other members of the first trinity had been slain by Ogrim the Restless, who was the original occupant of the cave complex that became the Twilight Sepulchre.

He's about 225 years old now. Nocturnal and Azura made him immortal, rather than risk having to train a new one. He retired as a Nightingale some time ago, and went back into business managing brothels, and other enterprises that remain profitable in times of war. Much of the other intervening history should emerge as this unfolds.

-------------

Part 1 - Over the border

"So Gilda, have you been into Skyrim before?" Clark asked the young woman sitting next to him. Ahead of them, the horse plodded onward, pulling Clark's carriage along the road towards Helgen. He gave the reins a jiggle, but the horse's gait didn't change. It only knew slow and steady.

Gilda wasn't really paying attention. She was busy looking at the scenery, which is why Clark had asked. "Oh, what? No, I barely got a mile from our farm before now. Mother didn't like me wandering off; she was scared I'd run into bandits."

"Is that how your nose got broken?" Clark guessed.

"Yes, the one time I did get away, she turned out to be right. When the bandits found out I didn't have anything valuable, they ... well, you can imagine what they had in mind. I gave the first one who tried anything my knee, and he did that in return. The others didn't stop me when I ran off, they were too busy laughing at our discomfort."

"How long ago was that? It looks like it's been that way for a while."

"About five months, I think. One day was much like another at our farm, and I lost track of time. I can't thank you enough for getting me away from there."

Clark wasn't sure what had made him offer to take her with him. He did need a new apprentice, that was true, but why he'd suddenly decided it could be her was beyond him. It wasn't her looks, for certain. Apart from her nose, she had crooked teeth, and looked like she never ate anything. Her mother was the exact opposite, so it was clear where all the food went in that household. She was wearing one of her mother's hand-me-down dresses, which fit her like a sack.

But he'd stopped at the farm for directions when he left Bruma, and she'd caught his eye. Before he knew it, he'd told her mother she could have a good career as a merchant's apprentice, hinting that she might be able to send some of her earnings home.

And if she'd persuaded him to do that, she probably had some speech talent, so she might work out well. He'd need to heal her nose, and fix her teeth first, and that would need more magicka than he had. Once he got to Whiterun, he'd be able to use the Alchemy lab at his house to make some fortification potions, but until then he couldn't do anything.

"We'll be in Helgen before long," he told her. "It's just over there, where you can see the smoke rising..." Clark's voice trailed off, as he realised that there shouldn't be that much smoke. Something had apparently set part of the town on fire, if not all of it.

They soon met a ragged bunch of imperial soldiers coming the other way, telling of a dragon attack on the town. Clark didn't think there were any dragons in Tamriel.

"Nor did we, until that one swooped down on us," the legionary told him. "We were preparing an execution for Ulfric Stormcloak and some of his men, when it was interrupted by a blast of magic. Threw everyone around like dolls. We'd heard that Ulfric could use the Thu'um like that, so we had him gagged, but a beast that size doing it was something else entirely."

"General Tullius and the Thalmor Ambassador were there too," one of the other men put in. "We have no idea if they got out."

Nobody knew if it was safe to try passing through. There were trails to Falkreath that might be preferable, as long as you weren't hauling anything heavy.

"But watch out for bandits if you go that way," another soldier advised. "That applies any time you leave the main roads in Skyrim."

Clark had heard much the same from legionaries in Cyrodiil. In his opinion, the roads weren't any safer than any other route, just better paved. He let his horse continue down the road.

Helgen was deserted when they got there. Most of the population seemed to be lying dead in the streets, scorched by the dragon's breath. Anyone alive had presumably fled, and the dragon itself was nowhere around. Clark decided to continue down into Riverwood and let them know what had happened. If the dragon didn't attack there next, of course.

---

Riverwood was intact, but they'd seen the dragon fly over. Gerdur, the mill-owner, told Clark that her brother Ralof had escaped from Helgen, and she thought that Hadvar, the legionary from the town, had too. Ralof had brought a stranger with him, and she'd gone on to Whiterun to warn the Jarl.

Clark knew from his earlier trips that Ralof was a Stormcloak, and he asked Gerdur if he'd been one of the men the soldiers had mentioned as due for execution. Ralof hadn't mentioned that part, just that he'd escaped from the dragon. But now it made sense why Hadvar had been there at the same time. "I'll make sure Ralof stays well hidden," she told Clark.

She turned back to what she'd been doing when they arrived. "When the dragon flew over, I was so startled, I dropped this firewood I'd just split in the river. I was trying to dry it out with a flare spell, but it looks like I'll just have to split some more."

"There's an easier way, you know," Clark told her. He took one of the pieces of firewood and stood it on a stump. "Cast a frost spell on it," he told Gerdur. She did so, until Clark told her to stop. "Now dispel the ice"

Gerdur didn't know that spell, so Clark taught it to her. "Now try the flare."

The wood caught immediately, and she quickly dispelled the flames. "I hardly used any magicka doing that. It was a lot easier than the way I was trying."

"Right, especially as the frost comes easily to you. Here, I'll help you finish these."

"You make it look so easy," Gerdur told him. "Are you sure you're an Imperial, not a Breton?"

"It's all practice, not magicka reserves," he told her. "It looks easy because I'm using less magicka than you would. Just like you know how to roll a log instead of doing it the hard way by lifting. But some spells are beyond my normal reach. That's why I have to wait until I get to Whiterun before I can heal Gilda's nose."

Gerdur noticed Gilda for the first time. "I can help her with a good meal, and you too. I owe you for that firewood trick."

"I hoped you might. Cooking is where you show your skill."

---

"Looking at her, I expected she had no appetite," Gerdur whispered to Clark. "But she's on her third helping of the stew already."

Clark told Gerdur that he suspected her mother had been starving her. Whether that was to keep her thin, or just because the mother ate all the food, he didn't know, but the mother was really fat. "She didn't think enough of Gilda to get her teeth straightened, so I doubt she had any positive feelings for her."

"If Gilda eats like that all the time, she might take after her," Gerdur warned.

"I don't expect she will. I'll get Lydia to look after her, and she'll keep her fit, not fat."

Lydia was Clark's housecarl in Whiterun. She'd been part of the deal when Jarl Balgruuf made Clark a Thane of the city, for his services to its people. He'd forgotten what he'd done for them; nothing major, just a lot of small things that added up. And the Jarl had noticed his effect on the local economy. Even the Khajiiti caravan that camped outside the gates seemed to be more prosperous after Clark had arrived.

They'd be at his house, Breezehome, by the end of the day, if there weren't any problems on the road.

---

"Oh, It's you, Thane," the guard at the gate knew Clark, even if he didn't know the girl. "Is she with you? I have orders to keep strangers out, with dragons sighted in the area."

Clark vouched for Gilda, and the guard opened the gate for them.

"That's a new development," Clark remarked. "The only ones not allowed in before were the Khajiit traders. They have an unjustified reputation as thieves. Well, maybe it's partly justified, but they're not the worst. They just have a more sharing attitude to property than the Nords are accustomed to, and it's often misinterpreted."

---

"What have you got in the sack?" Lydia asked.

"That's not a nice thing to say," Clark admonished. "Even if that is a good description of her outfit. This is Gilda, my new apprentice, and we'll be exchanging that 'sack' for something better-fitting as soon as we can. She's about your height, so is there something in the wardrobe she can try on?"

"You know I only keep a few changes of armour. If you're looking for a dress, you're probably out of luck."

"Leather armour might be more comfortable, if it fits."

Gilda took a look in the wardrobe, but there weren't any dresses, and the leather was loose, even with the straps tightened all the way. She put the "sack" back on, and tied the string back around her waist.

"We have to go to Belethor's in the morning anyway. We'll find you something then. Come out to the back room while I brew up some potions, and then I'll see what I can do about your nose," Clark told her.

Lydia was already back at the cookpot, stirring up some food. She could see that the poor girl needed feeding, even if Clark couldn't.

How delightful to see Clark made it to Skyrim! And it seems he’s done well for himself. I loved how you opened with a wagonride – like the game does, then flirt with the early game events. It makes the story feel very comfortable but different at the same time. You also did a fine job of ‘showing’ us what Clark has been up to with the manner in which you introduced his occupation as merchant/Thane.

I got a nice chuckle over his firewood drying technique.

"What have you got in the sack?" Lydia asked.’ -- This was priceless, and Lydia at her best!

I find that Lydia is a bit of a whiner in-game, but good with the cook pot. I also like how she says things in that superciliously sarcastic manner that only Lydia can pull off.

I'm with Acadian in how I enjoyed the start with the wagon ride then the divergence from Beth's beginning. I loved that Clark somehow took on the "sack" and gave her a job away from her doughnut-eating mom!

I love how you used the familiar Helgen opening but sidestepped your characters getting involved. That was excellent!

"What have you got in the sack?" Lydia asked.

Perfect.

Yay for Clark’s adventures in Skyrim!!

"It's just over there, where you can see the smoke rising..."
Uh oh...

As the others have said, it is nice to have an introduction to Skyrim that does not include the Empire trying to kill the protagonist for change. The 4th Era Empire might be more likeable, if not for that habit they have of trying to chop off everyone's heads...

Neat to hear that Ralof and "some mysterious stranger" came through Riverwood. That is a nice way of establishing that Clark is not the Dagonborn Dragonborn, but keeping the events of the main quest going in the background at the same time.

I loved the sack remark as well. It took me a few moments to realize Lydia meant Gilda, though!

Great. Nice. I can now see Clark and company in Skyrim. I have read some of his adventure in the other book, particularly his involvement with the Daedra and visiting Moonshadow. I'll be here to stay, Ghast.

Acadian: Clark may have learned from Thernd. Practical magic is what appeals most.

haute: Sweetrolls, not doughnuts. But if they had a deep-fryer in Skyrim, they'd be doughnuts.

Grits: Lydia's going to be a character character, if you know what I mean.

SubRosa: Clark is never the main character of the game, he just reports on the events, and gets involved in the peripheral quests. Hopefully, by the end of this, they'll be ones from my mods.

DE: This will make quite a few references back to the Cyrodiil part. Good that you've been there.

All: I'm off to Merry Olde England for a couple of weeks, and probably won't get much internet, so this piece is a bit early, and the next will be a bit late.

----------------------

Previously Clark has picked up a new apprentice in Cyrodiil - a skinny young woman with a broken nose and crooked teeth. He's taken her back to his home in Whiterun.

----------------------

Part 2 - Whiterun

"Do you know any alchemy?" Clark asked. "If not, I'll explain the properties of each ingredient as I go."

"Only a little," Gilda replied. "We didn't have any equipment for it, but I'd learned about a few things I could eat to cure diseases or poison. And I know that wheat will restore my health, if I can ever hide it from my mother."

"Well, what I need to make is Fortify Restoration and Fortify Magicka potions. There aren't any ingredients with both effects, so I'll have to make separate potions. Longfin and Salt for Restoration, and Jazbay Grapes and Ectoplasm for Magicka." Clark made her watch how he ground and mixed the ingredients, and used the alembic to refine the mixture. "Now you try. Your potions won't be as strong as I can make, but you'll get there with practice."

He let her make a few more potions that she'd find useful. She wondered how he knew the recipes for some of them. Wouldn't only a woman need those? And did teaching her that last one mean anything? Not that she'd object. He was a kind, good-looking man, and she owed him for everything.

"Sit down in that chair," he instructed her, and he drank the two potions he'd made. "Now hold still for a few moments. This is a relatively simple procedure, because you don't have any nose muscles to pull it back out of shape. That means I don't need to use paralysis, as well."

Clark was already squeezing and bending her broken nose back to where it should be as he spoke. He didn't have much time before the potions' effect wore off, and he wanted to do a good job the first time. "There, that does it. Take a look at yourself, and see what you think."

Gilda looked puzzled. How can anyone look at their own face? But Clark was holding something out to her. Something shiny and polished. It was a mirror, the first she'd ever seen. And when she held it right, her own face was reflected. That brought out a smile, but the sight of her teeth made it disappear just as quickly.

"I'd better straighten those teeth, too. Hand me the potions you made. This won't take as much magicka as the nose."

A few minutes later, she had a smile that was worth seeing. Her face was still gaunt, but well-proportioned, and with a bit of Lydia's cooking to fill out her cheeks, she could be quite pretty.

"Soup's ready" Lydia's voice called from the kitchen, as if on cue.

---

The soup was just the first course. Lydia had prepared grilled salmon steaks, potatoes, and leeks, and there were sweetrolls to follow. After all the stew she'd eaten at lunch, Clark didn't expect Gilda to finish it all, but he saw her reach for a second sweetroll. Lydia noticed, too.

"I expect you'll want me to help her with her weapons training and fitness," she asked Clark. "If I don't, she'll be filling that sack before long."

Gilda looked horrified at the thought, and took a long second look at the sweetroll she was eating. But she ate it anyway, took a swig of the wine to wash it down, and burped contentedly. "I think I'll know when to stop," she told them.

---

After another bottle of wine, they were ready for sleep. Lydia took Gilda upstairs. "This is my bed, but you can have it tonight," she told her.

"Where will you be sleeping?"

"I'll work something out," the housecarl replied with a wink.

---

"I really thought you'd lost all your taste in women when you came in with that one," Lydia told Clark, "but she's a lot prettier now you've fixed her face. Or she will be when she's got some meat on her. So do you want me to train her hard like a fighter, or softer like a whore?"

Clark ran his hands appreciatively over Lydia's naked body. "You know I like both kinds, and I've got a fighter already, and more whores than I can handle. So let her decide. She's going to train as a merchant, and that needs a bit of both. I have no idea what weapons she knows, if any, and that might make a difference, too. You need to be lighter and faster for one-handed, compared with two-handed, and archers need all their strength in their arms."

"But you like strong thighs, don't you?" Lydia reminded him.

---

Clark took Gilda into the market after breakfast the next day. He needed to check with Belethor about the Mammoth Tusks he'd asked him to find, and now he needed a dress or two for Gilda.

The Breton trader had a dozen tusks, more than Clark had expected. And the price didn't seem to be any lower, despite the supply. Clark didn't mind too much, and just made sure he got a better deal on the dresses. Belethor had a style that laced up, so it would fit her now, and could just be slackened off as she filled out. Clark bought one of each colour, and some nice boots to go with them.

Then they went next door, to Arcadia's, to restock Clark's alchemy lab. Clark sold a few potions, too, which let him pay for some Alchemy lessons for Gilda. He let her haggle with Arcadia over the potions she'd made last night. Clark was pleased to note that she got a fair price, even before he'd started training her in that skill.

The smithy was the other side of Breezehome so they checked in with Lydia to see what weapons Gilda would need to train with. Lydia already had a few stowed away, but she told Clark to get the best dagger Warmaiden's had. A merchant should always carry a good dagger.

---

Clark left Gilda with Lydia while he went to Warmaiden's. When he came back, Gilda was wearing one of the new dresses, and the two women were ceremonially burning her old one in the firepit, to mark the end of her old life. Gilda looked a little less starved in her new outfit, but she was still way too thin for Clark's liking. Still, her hips and shoulders weren't too narrow. If she could fill out her frame, she had promise.

She could make a start on that while he was away in Markarth. He had to go and negotiate with the Jarl, and the Guild of Prostitutes, for a permit to open a new brothel outside the city. There were a number of mines in the area, and the workers would need somewhere to relax. He had little expectation of taking over the one inside the walls, at least not yet. The Silver-Blood family had a stranglehold on trade inside Markarth, and that would have to be broken first. They were cunningly playing off everyone's fears of the Forsworn to keep out all outsiders, and Clark hadn't found a way to remove himself from that category.

"Aren't you taking either of us with you?" Lydia wanted to know. Clark had revealed to her long ago that Nocturnal and Azura had made him immortal, so she knew he wasn't going to get killed. But he still needed someone to protect him from injury and pain, and that was her job. And if he didn't need protection, shouldn't he be taking Gilda along for the experience?

"No, I need to negotiate with the Guild, and their officials are always women. I'll do better alone."

"Jarl Igmund's a man, don't you need help with him?" Lydia persisted.

"You'd only get into a fight with Faleen again. And Gilda's not ready for that level of work yet." Clark didn't have to explain what he meant by that. "Besides, the Jarl's almost on my side already. He's not one of the Silver-Bloods, and I think he resents their influence."

---

Clark departed for Markarth the following morning in his carriage. Lydia was still asleep when he left, and Gilda found her sprawled across Clark's bed when she went looking for her. "Isn't sleeping with the boss a bit unethical?" she asked her.

"No, it's fun! You should try it, once you've got something to offer. You won't get anything from him that way except experience, but that's valuable, too. You'll learn a lot from my Thane."

"I need to learn from you, first. Clark said you'd teach me weapon skills."

"I can make a start on that, and at least find out what you'll be good at, but I'll need to hand you over to a proper trainer, once I do. The main things I'll be doing are to help you practice, and keep you fit."

Have a great trip to the UK!

Nice explanation and details of how Clark uses alchemy. His foray into cosmetic plastic surgery and restorative orthodontics turned out well, it seems! I loved Gilda's reaction to what was obviously her first encounter with a mirror.

Gilda’s probably in good hands with Lydia, and it looks like she’s a pretty good fit for the merchant trade.


Nit: ...Clark was holding out something out to her.' - - Using 'out' here twice is redundant and probably unintentional. Maybe take a look at dropping one?

First the nit:

There's an extra 'i' in there.

Now the review:
I liked how this story incorporates two different kinds of female roles one tends to see in stories of this ilk. I also enjoyed the use of alchemy to perform cosmetic surgery. I bet Clark has different fees than the Face Changer in Riften?

This has to be my favorite line: This hints at a history that has already happened, and places the relationship between Lydia and the other NPC's in a clearer light.

I hope you have a great trip!

I love how Clark explains everything as he’s fixing up Gilda. I expect his interactions with her will be full of teachable moments.

Fun to imagine Lydia mixing it up with Faleen.

Grits: It was a good trip. Mother's 86th birthday, and nephew's 16th a week apart. English weather cooperated for once.
Clark will explain a lot of things to Gilda, and to others in this one.

haute: I'd had Taminwe and Ocato change Clark's face after his faked death in the Oblivion series, so having him boost his skills to do something less to Gilda made sense. He wouldn't have the magicka that two Altmer could muster.
Faleen always struck me as over-protective of the Jarl, and Lydia just has too much attitude, so I'd expect friction if they got together. It was also a useful way to point out that Clark has been to Markarth before.

Acadian: The reason they don't have mirrors in the game is that they're a complete pain for the rendering system, but I didn't see any problem with a small hand-mirror. They'd need to be solid silver for their technology, and require regular polishing to work. I'm thinking that Clark might get involved in the invention of the silvered glass variety at some point in this story, so I'm introducing them early.

---------------

Previously Clark has fixed Gilda's nose and teeth, and left her with Lydia for training. He's gone to Markarth alone to see about starting a new brothel there. It's by no means his first visit, and he already knows a number of the people there.

This part is mainly to connect the current tale to the old one, and fill in a bit of what happened in between.

---------------

Part 3 - Markarth

"My brother and I are among the few that still use the patronymic," Gorza gra-Bagol was telling Clark. "Most Orcs are living in the strongholds these days, where everyone's the same family, and it's obvious who your father is."

"Or roaming around the wilderness as a bandit," her brother Moth concurred. "Those Orcs don't want anyone to know about their family origins."

"But we persuaded our father to let us join the legion," Gorza continued. "The Orcs owe them something for bringing us to safety after the sack of Nova Orsinium. At least, that was our pitch, and he bought it. So we use his name from pride, and gratitude for our freedom. If I'd stayed in the strongholds, I'd probably have ended up as some lowly chief's third wife by now."

She didn't need to point out that she wouldn't have had the choice of which chief it was. Clark was quite familiar with Orc society, and how it had changed after Orsinium fell.

He'd lost touch with Uzgash when that happened. He knew she'd escaped, as he'd had one last transmission on the flash telegraph about a couple of days after it happened. She, and their young son, were on their way to the Wrothgarians, where Ulicetta's hideout was. Presumably the apparatus had broken after that, as he never received another transmission. They were fragile, and not suited to use on the run.

Gorza was telling them how using her father's name helped her feel part of the tribe still, even though they were living in Markarth. "But what's going to help you remember your mother? Women's names don't get used that way."

Clark disagreed. He pointed out that Gortwog's children had all gone by the name gro- or gra-Marghak, after their mother. "She was a Guild head, after all. It was a name to be proud of."

She was surprised that Clark knew that. Orcs themselves recalled little of that period, remembering only the disaster of the sack. Perhaps that was because most of their records were destroyed at the time. She'd done some delving back into her own past, using Understone Keep's archives, but that's where her research had hit a wall. "I know we're descended from one of Gortwog's daughters, the middle one, but I haven't found out her name. And I'd read about Marghak, but didn't know she was her mother. That's another step closer to our past, and I'm grateful."

"Her name was Uzgash, and I'm even more pleased than you are. My own research has been from the opposite end, and you've just closed an important gap for me, too. The Empire has surviving records, but they don't cover the Orcish diaspora, and there are only details of Gortwog's family because of dealings with the provincial court, and guilds."

"Do you know who Uzgash's husband was? The family's oral tradition says it wasn't an Orc."

"My investigations have suggested she didn't want his identity known. Perhaps, like her mother, she never married? Whatever her reasons, she seems to have maintained that secret. It certainly hasn't turned up in any books."

"You Imperials and your books! Thank you for bringing that one for my apprentice Tacitus, by the way. It does seem to have helped him understand what I'd been telling him about forging. Why he can't just watch what I'm doing and copy it, I don't understand. But he only gets it if it's written down!"

And thank you for changing the subject, Clark thought. "Has he read Cherim's Heart? It's a good companion to the one I brought you. I'll look out for a copy, if he hasn't."

---

"You're not from around here, are you?" Clark asked.

Velith Telvanni wasn't a Nord, but she wasn't exactly your average Dunmer, either. Her dark skin and white hair gave her a striking appearance on their own, and those breasts were just incredible. It wasn't their size, significant though they were, so much as the fact that they didn't droop in the slightest degree. Gravity just didn't seem to affect them. Her outfit was almost non-existant at the front, and certainly offered no physical support.

"You like them?" she asked, noticing Clark's gaze.

"Depends. Is Alteration or Illusion involved?" he replied. "They do look literally incredible."

"Which would you prefer?"

Clark had experience of both, and Illusion just left him feeling cheated. If she was only using Alteration to keep them supported, that would be perfect.

"Of course, I have used some Alteration magic, but just to regulate their growth. With my mother's guidance, too. I might have let them grow too much, without her restraint. I have enchantments on my clothing that helps keep them up. Especially the amulet, which I don't need to take off. I suspect that's what you noticed. Levitation is one of my family's specialities, and this much is legal, even in Cyrodiil."

A novel use, Clark thought, and one he should learn, if he got the chance.

"My mother and father are both Telvanni wizards, and are still in Morrowind. They moved nearer to Blacklight after the eruption of the Red Mountain, and are growing a new tower. That takes time, of course, and I came to Skyrim while it developed. Maybe I'll move back once there's room for me, maybe not. By that time, I might want a place of my own."

Clark knew what Dunmer maidens were like when they were young, and Velith, or Vicuña, as she preferred to be known, was clearly past the indiscriminate stage. She was into the much more enjoyable one where she had enough self-control to choose her partners, without blunting the desire. Which made her the perfect courtesan, and she knew it.

With her Telvanni intelligence, and magical skills, as well as that incredible body, she'd risen fast in the Guild's ranks. Like Marghak in the early years, she'd seen that the top jobs were jealously guarded and fought over, and had taken the less contested position of traveling inspector. She had enough autonomy to go where she chose, except when there was an inspection to make, and those were largely on her own schedule. The Guild had a bed for her, anywhere she went, and it was her decision whether to share it or not.

His dossier on her told him she usually did. She had a reputation as a hard bargainer, but most likely it was because of her use of her feminine methods of persuasion. It covered the visual impact of her appearance, although it failed to go into all the details Clark was noticing. Nowhere did it mention that she didn't shave, like most of her colleagues, but flashed a bright white tuft of pubic hair like a deer's tail. Clark had managed not to spend too long looking there.

She couldn't have (un)dressed like that on the streets, of course, but here in the Markarth brothel, she was free to flaunt everything, and distract Clark from his negotiations in any way she pleased.

She obviously had a dossier on him, too. She'd brought in wine from Skingrad, although it was only Surilie Brothers, and not the Tamika's he preferred. Her chances of finding that in Skyrim were slim to none, he thought ruefully. Nobody would ship it to the provinces when they could keep it and drink it. He had a few bottles stashed at Breezehome, but he'd brought those from Cyrodill himself.

"Bring it to the bedroom," she told him, "We might as well be comfortable while we discuss things."

Clark followed her, watching the sway of her hips, and wondering if she walked like that out of habit, or as a conscious ploy. Either way, it was worth watching.

Vicuña reminded Clark of Goldie, the Aureal at Gweden all those years ago. She was a visual feast, too, and an incredibly skilled lover. But her only objective was the shared pleasure, with no ulterior motives. He'd learned a lot from her, which had helped when he met ...

Clark hadn't thought about Taminwe for a century and more. She'd wound up the spy operation at the Red Dragon Club when Ocato was assassinated. The Club went back to just being a gentlemen's club, and Taminwe went to join her distant cousin Medora at Direnni Tower on the Isle of Balfiera. She hadn't told Clark she was expecting his child, and he'd never have known if she hadn't involuntarily called out to him, telepathically, during the birth.

He almost wished she hadn't shared that with him. He felt the pain, as well as the joy.

"Reman for your thoughts?" asked Vicuña.

"You're not telepathic, at all, are you?"

She shook her head. "That's an Altmer thing, not a Dunmer one. Why do you ask?"

"I am, slightly, and sometimes I catch stray thoughts from faraway places. It can be quite distracting."

"Then I should make sure I have your full attention, shouldn't I?"

"I think you deserve that," he agreed.

---

The young Dunmer was nowhere near as skilled as Taminwe when it came to negotiating. The pleasure was just as intense, but she just couldn't take advantage of her partner as much as the Altmer could. And she hadn't had anyone like Clark turning the tables on her before.

She knew she was giving ground on Clark's proposal for a brothel at Left Hand Mine, and she really ought to stop before she conceded more, but she didn't want him to stop, especially now. He sensed that, and knew he had all that he needed. And he knew what she needed, and it had nothing to do with this deal.

So glad you had a good trip to the UK and got to celebrate your mother’s 86th!

I’ve always included small hand mirrors into my TES fic. The technology certainly seems simple enough even without magic.

How delightfully comfortable to read about the familiar Ghorza and Tacitus of Markarth in the first segment of this. I loved how you included Ghorza’s in-game thinking about Imperials and their books.

Then on to the mysterious Telvanni breasts and snowy tufts of Vicuna. She seems to be quite skilled and adapted to her profession.

And a welcome reminder of Taminwe here -
’She hadn't told Clark she was expecting his child, and he'd never have known if she hadn't involuntarily called out to him, telepathically, during the birth.’ - - Even though this short passage is quietly ‘slipped’ in to the story, it speaks volumes about both Clark and Taminwe. Well done!

What a great idea to set up brothels to support the mines!

I’m glad you had a good trip. Welcome back!

I loved hearing about Uzgash and Taminwe, especially the family connections with Clark.

A levitation charm! Love it. How fun to meet the incredible Vicuña in the story.

Everyone else already commented on the divergent opening so I can only echo what they’ve already said. I like the decision you’ve made to narrate the dialogue rather than give us all of it, but I am also left wondering if you’re not going to that particular club a bit much and robbing yourself of opportunities to show us your vision of the world through details.

One place where this is apparent is on the road into Helgen. As readers we need to really see those first Imperial soldiers Clark encounters. Everything about them points to what they’ve just experienced as the first victims of a dragon attack (and not just any dragon, as it turns out). We need to see the fear in their eyes. We need to see their burns and the quality of their clothing. We need to see limping, and broken bones, and those whose bodies may be whole but whose minds have been broken by the sight muttering to themselves (for example). We also need to see/hear/smell/feel the wreckage of Helgen itself. Not really a nit, more of an observation.

In Riverwood I loved that Ralof neglected to mention his own attempted execution to his sister. I also liked the detail that you put into Clarks lesson regarding the drying of firewood, and that he was able to use the lesson as currency to secure dinner for himself and the ‘sack.‘

You also have a wonderful understanding that not every scene needs to be filled with action. H.E.R pointed out the delicious detail of Lydia’s history with Faleen, and the gro/gra-Bagol’s continued use of the patronymic allows you to distinguish them as individuals in the first sentence of Part 3. Just the fact that Gorza is comfortable using a word like ‘patronymic’ makes his character come alive for me.

Acadian: I think I also mentioned mirrors as signalling devices back in the Cyrodiil story, as the source of the code for the crystal ball telegraph, so it helps keep my world consistent. The polished silver mirror is high-maintenance, so most folk wouldn't bother, and it would be a luxury item. Clark is a merchant, so he'd have one, at least as a trade sample.

Grits: More Vicuña coming up! She was fun to play, and I hope I can sustain her character as an NPC.

Destri: I have to disagree about those soldiers. The ones that got out were those who fled at the first sight of the dragon, like Tullius and Elenwen. But my main reason for not dwelling on them is that Clark isn't the Dragonborn, and won't get very involved with those quests. Besides, in-game, soldiers are either completely healthy or dead.

-----------

Previously

Clark has travelled to the ancient Dwemer city of Markarth, where he's met Vicuña, the travelling inspector of the All-Tamriel Guild of Prostitutes. They've negotiated an agreement for a new establishment outside the city.

--------------

Part 4 - Markarth Temple

Of course, the agreement wasn't final until it was put in writing, and signed. They went to the Treasury House, where such things were recorded, and had the scribe there lay it all on parchment.

Vicuña read through her copy before signing. She'd been sure last night that she was surrendering everything, but this seemed like a very fair and even contract. "What's this clause at the end?" she asked. "The one about re-negotiating at regular intervals, not to exceed half a year."

"Things will change, and I don't want the deal going stale because it doesn't get renewed. I'm sure you'll see other benefits, if you think about it."

"Do you expect me to do the negotiating again?"

"Of course, and I can offer training if you think you need it."

---

Clark's price for training was the secret of that breast-levitating enchantment. There were women in several of his establishments that could benefit from it. Even the ones who had less to carry would look firmer and younger.

Vicuña took off her amulet and handed it to Clark. Her breasts settled slightly, as their full weight took effect. They were still admirably firm, and held up well on their own, but she didn't look quite as comfortable without the magical help. "I'm going to my room to get another, you can use the enchanting station in the corner to learn how it was done."

It made sense that she'd have enchanting facilities here, as well as spare amulets,. He wondered how many of the other women here were using them. The merchant side of his mind was already considering the market for soul gems.

He quickly understood when he disenchanted the item, that he'd need a lot more skill before he could reproduce this one. There were two parts to the effect, one being the familiar Fortify Carry Weight, but the other made it specific to its use, and that was the difficult part.

Vicuña was back at his side, watching him. "You'll want to visit the Temple of Dibella while you're in Markarth," she told him. "They know a lot there about how to make magicka especially for a woman. There are ways to focus the enchantment, that only they can teach."

"Is that what brought you here?" Clark asked.

"Yes, they know about the Temple as far away as Morrowind. Dibella's not worshipped much there, but the Telvanni are a bit exceptional in that regard. We don't reject any source of knowledge, no matter how foreign. And the Dwemer connection, here in Markarth, is a draw too."

Clark knew the priestesses at Dibella's temple well. He often sent young women he'd recruited for his establishments there for training in the erotic arts. His business and theirs overlapped in many ways, but they weren't exactly in competition. As the Guild required, any payment for actual sex had to go to a Guild member, but erotic displays, training, and other services that stopped short of that were permitted to non-members.

The Dibellans were equally insistent that while what they did would certainly arouse, it was an offering to the goddess. And that should be considered separate from anything it might lead to. If they did anything afterwards, it was because they wanted to, not because someone had just paid them to dance. It wasn't a secret that they got just as worked up by a good performance, but the Guild was tolerant, and let them have their fun.

He'd never really considered them as major magic-users, though, except the common uses any woman would make. But there was a fine line between using it consciously, with an obvious casting like you'd do with a fireball spell, and the way that charm and speechcraft worked. And you could definitely describe some of what they did as a "casting motion", just one that continued as it mesmerised its target.

He resolved to go over to the Temple and make inquiries as soon as he'd given Vicuña her first lesson.

"What you need to learn is how to concentrate on two distinct things at once. One is the pleasure you're sharing with your partner, and the other is the information you're trying to extract, or the argument you're trying get across. So you're going to read this book, while I try and distract you. At any time, I may stop and ask you questions about the content, and I expect the correct answers."

She lay face-down on the bed with the book on the pillow. He let her turn the first page before he started to run his hands over her back, and around to her breasts. She propped herself up on her elbows, to give him better access, and continued to read. She could manage this. The story was interesting, and Barenziah was in a similar situation, so he was just reinforcing what she was reading, and helping her get immersed in the tale. Was he reading over her shoulder? She didn't really care, as the next part looked like something she'd like to do, too.

He couldn't be reading with her now, though. Not if that was his tongue. And the book was telling her about guarding a caravan, and fighting off bandits, just as she was doing the exact opposite and letting him have access to her valuables.

At what he judged was a good moment, Clark rolled her over and asked her what was on the last page.

Barenziah had just reached the Morrowind border with Straw, and slept with some of the soldiers. She got that part right, but a lot of the details she added were what she'd just experienced, and weren't in the book at all. Clark let her read it again, and pointed out the differences.

"But that's just volume 1. We'll do another volume tomorrow, and by the time we finish the series, you'll be a lot better at it. Meanwhile, we have something else to finish."

---

"There's a man in the Sanctum!" exclaimed Orla, as she hid herself behind a pillar. Her shapely leg stretched out towards her robe, which lay on the floor not far away, and she tried to drag it to her with her foot.

Hamal laughed, and walked over to give Clark a hug. "He's seen the rest of us before, many times, haven't you Clark?"

"In intimate detail." Anwen agreed, taking her turn to embrace him.

"But didn't you tell me we don't let men down here?" Orla asked, peeking around the pillar shyly. She had a nice face, Clark thought, and at least one nice leg, why did she think the rest was anything to be embarrassed about?

He heard the door open behind him and Senna came to join them. She tossed her robe onto the bench next to him and walked around the other side of the pillar to push Orla out into the open. "You've got to get used to showing yourself, or you won't make it past acolyte."

Orla reluctantly lowered her hands and let him see her properly. She was a Nord like Hamal, with the more voluptuous build that usually meant. Senna the Breton was a little smaller, as were the Redguards Anwen, and ...

"Where's your Sybil?" Clark asked. The women looked sad.

"Lost to us recently, I'm afraid," Hamal replied. "We have just performed the Exalted Protocol of the Dibellan Sybil to try and locate her successor. The goddess has revealed to us that she lives in the small mining town of Karthwasten, to the north. If you're travelling that way, could you let her know, and have her family send her to the Temple?"

Clark hadn't intended going that way, but Hamal and the others were good friends, and he had something to ask them in return. "If I do, would you help me to use a new enchantment I just learned?" He didn't ask further about the loss. It was clear to him from the way Hamal said it that she couldn't, or didn't want to, explain.

"Yes, you know I provide Enchantment training," Hamal agreed. "I take it this one is a special one for women?"

Clark explained about the breast levitation enchantment he'd got from Vicuña's amulet. "Dibella would approve, if she didn't create that herself," the priestess told him. "But without our new Sybil, we might not have the full extent of her blessing."

They explained further how Clark would know when he'd found her. "She's a child? I'd have thought it was a job for a fully-developed woman."

"She does need to be pure when she joins us. So we need to recruit her before she loses..."

Clark understood now. The priestesses would make sure her first time was special, with plenty of ceremony, and probably supportive company to make sure it was done right. And it wouldn't be until she was fully ready for it. She'd have a few years to watch and understand what was involved before she'd be expected to participate. And until then she'd be protected, and trained for the honour of being the Sybil.

I chuckled as I remembered the ‘negotiating’ session.

Woot! Clark learns the handy boob levitation enchantment! By using the enchanting station, it really brings home that this is indeed a Skyrim story.

Interesting understanding between the Dibellans and the Guild to avoid conflict.

Nice job of changing the Sybil quest for Dibella into your own. Clearly recognizable, but with the typical well-reasoned twists we’ve come to expect from Clark. Clark’s motivation for that quest is perfect: The Dibellans are his friends and they need the quest done before they can fully help him.

Fair enough.

A rough estimate? I'd say all of them!!

Clark does not discriminate when it comes to coin. And Acadian already pointed out the terrific explanation of the differences between the Guild and the Dibellans.

Acadian: I just couldn't see Clark trying to steal anything from those folks. The Cyrodiil story established the Dibellan/Guild relationship, so I have to stay consistent.

Destri: They'd all want to need it, anyway.

-----------------

Previously Clark learned a new enchantment from Vicuña's amulet, but couldn't use it without some extra training. Hamal, the priestess of Dibella, had a favour to ask in return. And it sounds so simple...

-----------------

Part 5 - Broken Tower

Karthwasten wasn't far, the road was safe, and you could make the round trip easily in a day. Clark invited Vicuña to join him. "We'll take my carriage, and maybe do a little trading while we're there." She agreed. Her type of trading might be a little different from Clark's, but there was a chance she'd find an opportunity, too.

They arrived a little before lunch, and were surprised to see the miners milling around outside the mines. The Orc told him they'd been kicked out by mercenaries sent by the Silver-Bloods "to protect them from the Forsworn". She sent Clark over to Enmon's house when he mentioned his quest. "He's the only one here with a daughter. But I haven't seen her for a few days, I hope she's all right."

Enmon and his wife Mena told him that he'd arrived a day too late. Their child, Fjotra, had been kidnapped just yesterday by Forsworn, and now the mercenaries had come and taken the mine, too. "I don't think that was a coincidence. either," he told them.

Ainethach, the owner of the mine, confirmed his suspicions. "The Silver-Bloods want me to sell the mine to them. I'm convinced that they have some kind of control over the Forsworn, and yesterday's raid was a set-up for today's occupation."

Clark was inclined to agree, but getting Fjotra back had to take precedence over reclaiming the mine. He could use reinforcements for that, too.

"Does anyone know where they might have taken Fjotra?" he asked.

The general consensus was that they'd have taken her to Broken Tower Redoubt. It wasn't far, just the other side of the river. If she really was the next Sybil of Dibella, the Forsworn might have known that. They had their own shrine to Dibella there, and it wasn't exactly like the one in Markarth.

Both Enmon and Vicuña wanted to come with Clark. He wasn't convinced that either of them were suitable for the task. Neither had any armor, or a decent weapon. "But I don't need them," Vicuña pointed out. "I have spells I can use instead." Enmon shrugged, and agreed that it might be better if he stayed behind. "It is my daughter they have, but I wouldn't want her to see her father getting killed. I'd rather she didn't have to see anyone die, but you'll do what you have to, to get her back."

"What about you?" the Dunmer asked Clark. "I can see a sword and shield on the wagon, but I don't notice any armor."

"Ebonyflesh enough?" he asked her.

"Really? The same as I use, but you don't look like a mage."

"Well, I don't do destruction, so I've been able to spend more of my time on restoration and alteration. And while I haven't the protection from my clothing I once did, I've enchanted my sword with both fire and soul trap, so it will feed its own charge."

"You have the skill for dual enchantments? I thought you told me you didn't."

"No, I was lucky enough to find an item that had both as a single enchantment, if that makes any sense. They were combined as one, just on the wrong weapon for me."

They left the horse and wagon in Karthwasten. Clark didn't want the horse getting killed if they ran into the Forsworn unexpectedly, as he didn't fancy walking all the way back to Markarth. The walk over the bridge to Broken Tower was a much shorter distance, and anyway, they'd want to be on foot to be ready for any hostilities.

Broken Tower was a fortress built into the cliff at the side of the road. Ranks of battlements stepped up the steep slope, giving good cover to archers. There was a single skirmisher outside, a woman dressed in skimpy furs, and paint. What she lacked in armour, she made up for in aggression, and ran screaming at them with a jagged sword in each hand. Vicuña's fireball met her half-way and sent her flying.

Clark had already cast his armour spell, and now she cast hers. Just in time, as an archer popped his head over the wall above them and let an arrow fly in their direction. Another fireball went back in return, but the archer just ducked out of its way.

"We'd better get inside, where I can use my sword," Clark said, pointing at the only door he could see. It wasn't locked, and they rounded the first couple of corners before they met anyone coming the other way. There was one archer in the corridor ahead, and another up the stairs to the right. Since she didn't have a clear shot at the latter, Clark ran that way, hoping the Dunmer would take out the other. He blocked an arrow with his shield and took out the archer with a couple of swings of his sword. Same negligible fur armour on this one, too. Nice body, such a waste.

He heard the explosion of another fireball below. He hoped that Vicuña had a spell without the area effect for closer quarters, but right now it was working well enough.

The next Forsworn they encountered was a man with an axe and a sword, and he popped out of a doorway too close for her to use her fireball. It took a second to ready a different spell and Clark had to deflect a massive blow from the man's axe with his shield. He staggered a little, preventing him from counter-striking with his sword. A bolt of lightning crackled over his shoulder and the Forsworn jerked back. Before he could swing again, Clark had recovered his balance, and the offensive. A slash from his enchanted sword set him on fire, and captured his soul.

Further in, a mage slowed Clark's advance with her frost, but that just kept him safely back from the fireball that flew past him. He cast a healing spell, and shivered off the rest. Then they were outside again, on the ledge above the road, trading fireballs for arrows. Not a fair exchange, really.

"This tower looks like the only part we haven't been in," Clark said, pointing to the door ahead. "I do hope Fjotra's in there, after all this."

They crept in as quietly as they could, and saw a man in furs, with a horned head-dress, making offerings to a statue of Dibella. A statue just like the ones in the temple, except that this one was smeared with blood. Human remains lay on an altar before it.

The wind blew the door shut behind them, and the man turned to see what had made the noise. They could see a hole in his chest where his heart should be, filled with some kind of plant material. He raised his hands to cast a spell.

The briar-heart had his own fireballs for them, so they quickly split up to approach him from opposite sides of the room. Vicuña was using her most powerful lightning spell, to try and drain his magicka, as well as damage him, and Clark was trying to get close enough to swing his sword. Both were wondering where Fjotra was, and if the fireballs were endangering her.

Clark was feeling rather warm by the time he got into sword range, and the Forsworn didn't seem to be letting up with his flame attack. But he faltered as Clark struck, and fell back. Clark didn't let him regain the initiative and continued swinging his sword as quickly as he could. The force of the blow wasn't as important as keeping his opponent off-balance and unable to fight back. But he had to keep out of the lightning coming from his companion at the same time, and that wasn't easy.

She ran out of magicka just as Clark's sword struck. The briar-heart's head rolled across the floor and stopped at the door of a cell. Clark took a key from the man's corpse, and hurried to open the cell door, pushing the severed head away before Fjotra could see it.

He couldn't stop her from seeing the headless body, though. Or the remains lying on the altar before the bloodied statue of Dibella. Or all the other dead bodies on the way down to the road.

Enmon and Mena were delighted to have their daughter back, but surprisingly, eager to let her go again. Becoming the Sybil of Dibella would be such an honour, and a much better life than she could look forward to in Karthwasten.

The three of them arrived back in Markarth around sunset, and they took Fjotra to the Temple right away.

"Have you brought me another acolyte, too?" Hamal asked Clark, nodding towards Vicuña.

"The nice lady helped rescue me from the Forsworn," Fjotra told her.

Clark had to tell Hamal the whole story, including the details of the shrine they'd found in the tower. "They'd clearly sacrificed someone on that altar. You don't think it could have been..."

"Our previous Sybil? It wouldn't surprise me. And that would mean that Fjotra was next in line."

"We found a few small statues, as well. Are you missing any from the Temple?"

"No, and they're quite common around here. The gilded ones are popular with women who've visited here, as mementos of their pilgrimage. Men seem to like them, too. You might offer them to Lisbet at Arnleif and Sons Traders, I know she deals in them when she can get them. "

Hamal led Vicuña to the altar in the middle of the temple. "Prostrate yourself, and then drink from the basin. Dibella will grant you her blessing."

Clark's reward was the Enchanting training he'd requested, free of charge. Not only was Hamal able to reveal the secret of the enchantment, but with the extra skill levels he gained, he could make the charge more powerful. Now he could make an amulet that might help more than a slender Bosmer.

"I don't know what Dibella gave me, but I do feel different," Vicuña told him.

"Most women are convinced that they have larger breasts," Hamal told her. "I don't believe she ever actually does that, but their posture improves, and so does their self-confidence. The result is probably the same."

Nice that Clark has fiery soul trap on his blade. Too bad it's not so easy to find.

Loved the bits about trying to keep Fjotra from seeing dead bodies. I remember how she reacts pretty strongly to seeing them in game once you rescue her.

Also, a good explanation for what may have happened to the previous Sybil.

’Now he could make an amulet that might help more than a slender Bosmer.’ - - Hey! Nobody likes a smart-astronach!

Part 2: Alchemy for some reason is always an interesting craft. You made it more interesting by your descriptions alone. Clark's use for it is indeed unique. Hmm Lydia and Clark

Part 3: Markarth has many travelers and it would be the ideal place to build a brothel. Vicuña proved to be a fine woman and Velith's gravity defying breasts was a delight to read too. I look forward to seeing Clark in his quest here.

Part 4:

This right here caught my attention. I never thought about it. How clever is it to alter a woman's body in a professional work environment made for that sort of thing? Hmm. The Dibellens here are a fine addition, as expected with this wonderful sort of story. I'm glad you took time to delve into their religion and erotic teachings.


Part 5: Ah quite the battle we had here.



This was a wonderful description here. I love it! Vicuna has some fire-power indeed. A woman who is sexy and powerful is a good combination, no? They make a fine team, her and Clark!

It makes perfect sense for Clark to seek out Hamal’s help with the floating boob enchantment. She’s my favorite trainer in the game, since reaching the high end of Enchanting can be so tedious. I love how you made the intro to the Sybil quest fit Clark’s story. It’s easily recognizable and the change made me smile.

Karthwasten wasn't far, the road was safe, and you could make the round trip easily in a day.

And so begins an adventure!

A slash from his enchanted sword set him on fire, and captured his soul.

That guy’s soul might get to spend its afterlife levitating a prostitute’s Legendary bosom. If Clark advertises he might get some volunteers!

I like your explanation of the Dibella shrine in Broken Tower. I could never make much sense of it. I really enjoyed seeing Vicuña in action with Clark here!

Acadian That Fiery Soul Trap has become my fave enchantment, and it will go onto a bunch of his associates' weapons in future episodes. There aren't many dual-effect enchantments available, with the others being on mage robes to fortify a skill and boost magicka regeneration. The notion that multiple enchantments require a higher level of skill is a handy clue as to who made a weapon, for example. Two major ones likely indicates a unique / Daedric artifact.

D. E. Alchemy is one of the skills that just about any class can make use of. There's a fortifying potion for just about everything, so it can fill in the weaknesses of any build. Clark needs Stamina more than he does Magicka, so he uses alchemy when he does heavy-duty spells. He'll make the point several times that he has the skill, but not the reserves.

Grits: It's amazing how adventures just seem to happen to you in this game when you're least expecting them! It might happen again really soon...

------------------

Previously Clark and Vicuña had brought Fjotra back to the Temple of Dibella in Markarth. Hamal had pointed them towards Arnleif and Sons to sell the statues they found.

------------------

Part 6 - Forsworn

They went back through the market district and visited Arnleif and Sons. Lisbet told them that yes, she had been looking for Dibella statues. She'd even ordered one specially for a customer, but it had been stolen on its way to her, and she'd paid for it in advance. "I'd reward you if you found it for me," she told Clark.

"Maybe I already have," he replied. "I have a couple out on my wagon that we got from a Forsworn hideout. How will I know if it's the right one?"

"The makers mark them on the base, and number them. Bring them in and I'll be able to check the numbers against my order."

Clark left Vicuña chatting with Lisbet and went out to fetch the statues. As he closed the door behind him, he noticed a man drawing a knife from his belt and stepping behind a woman at the meat stall. He stepped forward and grabbed the man's arm before he could use the knife, twisting it behind his back, and forcing him to drop the weapon.

The market guard had drawn his sword, and thrust it through the would-be assassin, narrowly missing Clark. He hadn't needed to do that, as Clark had already removed the threat. Unless he was trying to make sure the man didn't talk.

Clark made no attempt to heal the man's wound, although he probably could have saved his life. He suspected it would be futile anyway. The guard was telling everyone "No Forsworn here. We'll deal with this, so just leave it to us."

Instead, he approached the woman who was the intended victim. She told him her name was Margret, but she was reluctant to talk much in public. She told Clark to ask for her at the Silver-Blood Inn later. As he turned away, a man came up to him and handed him a note. "I think you dropped this while you were struggling with that man." Clark put the note in his pocket. The guard was still watching, and he felt uneasy.

He went out to the wagon, and fetched the statues of Dibella they'd found in Broken Tower Redoubt, bringing them back to Lisbet.

"This is it!" she exclaimed. "The same one I ordered. You say the Forsworn had taken it?"

"Do you want to tell her the whole story, or shall I?" Clark asked.

"I already told her most of it before you got back," was the reponse. "I'd just got to the part where we entered the last tower."

"You don't need a full-sized statue, do you?" Clark asked Lisbet. "If you do, I know where you can get one. It just needs a bit of cleaning up."

---

When they left the store, the guards had had a shift-change, and the one who'd been watching him before was gone. Perhaps this was a safe time to go see Margret, and to read that note.

"I'll be expecting my next lesson tonight," Vicuña reminded him, before setting off back to the brothel. "Volume two awaits."

The note just asked him to meet at the Shrine of Talos tonight. It was signed by an Eltrys, which was more a Breton name than a Nord one. Perhaps that was a clue as to which side he was on. Margret could be on either. If the Forsworn were trying to kill her, probably not theirs.

She turned out to be a Nord, but from Cyrodiil, rather than a local. She was using the cover of purchasing silver jewelry for her sister to spy on Thonar Silver-Blood for the Imperial Legion. There was something suspicious about the Cidhna Mine operation, and General Tullius had asked her to find out what she could.

"I'm not staying around to give them a second chance to kill me. This would be a good time to report back with the little I know." She gave Clark a necklace she'd bought, as a reward for saving her life, and showed him her notes on everything she'd already discovered about the mine, and Thonar.

Leaving the inn, Clark was threatened by another guard. "We don't like outsiders snooping around. Back off. You don't want to find out what happens to trouble-makers here."

Clark insisted that he wasn't trying to cause trouble, but the guard told him he'd found it anyway. "We're the ones who keep the peace here. Stay out of our business."

Of course, that just made Clark more curious. There was a situation here that the guards were getting very anxious about, and it had something to do with the Silver-Bloods and the Forsworn. Since those were the blockage to expanding his interests in Markarth, Clark would like this to come to a quick conclusion. He'd already been told by the people at Karthwasten that the Forsworn attack there was much too well-timed to be a coincidence.

However, none of that fit well with recent history. When Ulfric Stormcloak has siezed Markarth back from the Reachmen, he'd done it in the most brutal way possible. It didn't make sense that they'd be working together now.

He decided to go meet with Eltrys, the man who'd given him the note, before he headed back to the brothel.

The Shrine of Talos was a public enough place for a meeting, but there was only one other person there when Clark entered. Eltrys was indeed a Breton, and it turned out that his wife was the scribe at the Treasury House who'd just written up the agreement for the new brothel. She'd have a good idea what was going on in the city's business, from what passed her desk.

Eltrys had seen patterns in what his wife had told him. Things that made him think that the Forsworn were doing Thonar's bidding. He wasn't certain that Weylin, the would-be assassin was one of the Forsworn, but Clark had heard him say something as he drew his dagger. The information Clark had obtained from Margret fit in perfectly. Of course Thonar would set the Forsworn on her if he suspected anything. "What we don't know is how orders get to them," Eltrys said.

"I'll see what I can find out," Clark told him. "But I'll have to move slowly and carefully. The guards are already watching me, and I don't want to put anyone else in danger."

For that reason, Clark decided to avoid the Treasury House. Eltrys had told him that his wife, Rhiada, was pregnant, and he didn't want any of the trouble to start there. Perhaps he'd do better investigating where the would-be assassin, Weylin, lived, down in the Warrens. That could wait until tomorrow, as the place should be deserted when they were all at work.

Tonight he had Vicuña's next lesson to occupy his time.

Gosh, you're doing a great job of weaving the game quests into Clark's story - and changing them as suits your purpose.

I'm looking forward to following along with Clark regarding this whole Forsworn in Markarth stuff - Buffy always takes the guards' advice and leaves things to them, so I have no real idea how it goes.

I like Clark’s approach to that confusing scene in Markarth. Clark is just the fellow to make some sense out of it, and unlike most people he has good reason to get involved. What a relief that he’s staying away from the Treasury House and Rhiada.

Clark made good use of his skills to stop the attacker but the guard's use of deadly force wasn't foreseen. The Forsworn questline is one of the best and the entire conflict in the Reach is great story! Clark's adventures in Skyrim look to be shaping up here and he's just getting started. At least the statue was returned to its respective owner.

Acadian: Clark has the advantage of immortality. He also has more direct interests in Markarth,

Grits: Clark wants to keep everyone alive, even Weylin (but he failed).

D.E. It's a good story, but too short. At this point, I'm just using what exists, and not expanding it.

----------------

Previously: Clark prevented a murder in the Markarth market, only to witness another.

---------------

Part 7 - The Warrens

Vicuña was lying on her back on the bed, studiously ignoring the book next to her. "How do you know I haven't cheated, and memorised the book while you were out?"

"You can cheat as much as you like," Clark told her, "but if I catch you out, you'll have to persuade me to forgive you, as well as completing your assignment. ... And how do you know I won't switch books?"

"Well I haven't read it, so it wouldn't matter," she replied. "My plan tonight is to let you tire yourself out before I start reading, so you won't be able to distract me so much."

"But now you've told me, won't I just take it slow and easy?"

"I hope so, that's what I'm in the mood for tonight, after all the fighting today."

"Yes, I'm sorry our little outing got spoiled by the Forsworn. I could have done without them too."

He didn't mention the incident outside the shop. That had been Forsworn again, if the guard could be believed.

---

"Since you didn't get round to reading last night, you can do it now," Clark said,as she lifted her head from his shoulder and yawned. "Yes, it's morning already."

"But don't I get any credit for that? You wanted me to read it last night, and I put it off until morning. So I got my own way on one thing, at least."

"That's not what I'm trying to teach you. You get what you want if you ask nicely, and you know how to do that already. What you need to learn is how to concentrate on two things at once. We're just using a book as one of them, and the other is something you should able to do without having to think."

"But I can't just ignore you, It would spoil it for both of us."

"I'm not asking you to do that, but to broaden your attention to include the book as well. You had the right idea the first night, although you didn't quite get it right. The story in the book, and what we were doing, became merged in your mind. You need to keep them separate, but pay attention to both."

"That sounds difficult."

"It is, but it's very rewarding when you master it."

Clark placed the book on the low cupboard beside the bed and had her bend over it. "Read it out loud if you find that helps," he told her, "or better yet, tell me what you're reading in your own words. That will help you concentrate on the meaning, not just the marks on the page."

"This is the part where Straw and Barenziah are in Riften, but it's spelled differently in the book. Is that a mistake?"

"Did I miss my target?" Clark asked, innocently.

"Not you, silly, the book. It's says Rifton, with an O, not with an E. Is that the same place?"

"Yes, but the spelling may have been different back then. This is all at least five hundred years ago, and things change. Even that book. You may notice I found the older edition with the next part intact."

"Oh, yes. I see what you mean. Barenziah's offered to bed Therris if he sponsors her as a member, but the version I read before didn't say what happened next. I always assumed she went to his room, but they're doing it right there in the bar-room! With everybody watching."

"So tell me what's happening."

"She's sitting on his lap, and he's undone her shirt and pulled it down around her waist. It doesn't say if she's got big ones, but apparently the Khajiit likes them. I think he's just looking at them, not licking them, or squeezing like you are." She paused to move his hands slightly. "Just there, that's where I like it."

"And then she's undone his pants, and he's inside her, ... "

"Keep going," Clark urged. "What are they doing now? This, perhaps?"

"This is almost as disappointing as the newer editions. It says she blacked out, and then just resumes with her doing her shirt back up. Oh! now I see why. I didn't know Khajiit were different."

"Really? You've never tried one?"

"No, and I can't imagine what it would feel like. I mean, I know most of it would feel just like this, but the barbs have to make a difference."

"So take a few moments to imagine, and tell me how you think it would be."

"Well it's got to be more intense. I don't know if it would actually hurt, not if she was as wet as I am."

"Do you think she really blacked out?"

"No, I expect the author of the book was a man, and she just couldn't explain it to him. I couldn't put what I'm feeling now into words. But I do know that I'm not going black out and miss any of it! I just might have to stop talking for a bit while I ..."

Clark couldn't have agreed more. He didn't say anything either.

---

"You were much better that time. It's just a question of keeping your mind on what you want, and not getting distracted. It might not take all five volumes after all. "

"Oh yes, it will. I insist on my full course of training, even if it's just for practice. If I've got the basic idea, there will still be subtle stuff I need."

"We'll see. I have to go down to the Warrens today and look around a bit. I'm trying to find out more about the Silver-Bloods' connection to the Forsworn."

"Be careful, the Silver-Bloods can get away with anything they like in this city. It seems like they own everything, and that might include the Jarl."

"If the Thalmor don't own him. I've noticed they have a presence in Understone Keep, and the Silver-Bloods don't. No, if they had that much influence, there wouldn't be a Shrine to Talos." Clark was undecided about Jarl Igmund.

---

As Clark had expected, the Warrens were almost deserted during the day, but he used his invisibility as a precaution. Just as well, as there was still someone left behind. Cairine appeared to be too sick to work. She just sat on the floor, moaning in discomfort, and didn't hear Clark creep past her. He checked all the rooms, not knowing which one was Weylin's, and of course that was the last one, right at the back. All that he found was a note telling Weylin to attack someone in the market. It didn't mention Margret by name, but he might have already been given his target in an earlier note. And the only signature was the single letter N.

Not much of a clue, but maybe it would mean more to Eltrys. Clark headed back towards the door out of the warrens.

"What's that?" A Breton in good-quality leather armour was standing by the doorway, clearly not a resident. "I'm sure I heard something." He cast a detect life spell, and saw Clark's shape at the back of the hallway. Clark let his invisibility dispel, and walked over to reason with the man. It didn't work, and a fist-fight broke out. "No weapons, or the guard will come," Cairine warned them.

Dryston was a tough customer, but Clark's blocking was better, and he didn't land any significant punches. Before long, he was taking a knee, and cursing his luck, and Clark.

"Who sent you?" Clark asked.

"Nepos the Nose. The old man hands out the orders. He said you were getting in the way. That's all I know, I swear!"

Clark bribed Cairine to silence with a cure disease potion. He presumed she was really sick, as she'd been moaning even before she knew there was someone to hear her. Dryston knew what he'd get if he told anyone.

---

Nepos' house was on the North cliff, at the other side of town. The door wasn't locked, so everyone was probably at home. Clark cast his invisibility and crept into the house.

A couple of servants were working in the kitchen, clearing up after a meal. An old man, who he assumed was Nepos himself, was dozing in a comfortable chair by the fireside. A journal lay on the table next to him. Clark picked it up and put it in his pocket, then re-cast his invisibility. He slipped back out of the house and opened the journal.

It appeared that Nepos was just a conduit for the orders, which actually came from Madanach, King of the Reachmen. Clark had belived that King Madanach was dead, killed when the Nords reclaimed Markarth, but the journal said he was alive in Cidhna Mine, which the city used as a prison. Clark needed to get this information to Eltrys.

---

Eltrys would be waiting in the Talos Shrine every evening around the same time, in case Clark had anything to tell him. To anyone else, it would appear that he was making his daily visit as a worshipper. Talos worship was just as common among the Bretons as it was with the Nords.

As he entered, Clark heard voices, and decided that invisibility was a good idea. It was; several guards were standing over Eltrys' body, and Clark got the impression he was expected.

"If he turns up, we arrest him for this murder, and let Cidhna Mine do the rest. Nobody gets out of there!"

With Eltrys dead, there was no point in Clark staying to get arrested. He crept back out and went back to the brothel, staying invisible all the way.

---

There were worse places to hide from the guards, and he did have Vicuña's training to complete. Eventually, however, he'd have to leave Markarth, and go back to Whiterun.

A few days later, Clark crept out of the brothel in the middle of the night, invisible, and with muffle enchanted on his boots. He made it as far as the stables, where he was arrested as soon as he tried to hitch his horse to his carriage. They had a guard equipped with Detect Life waiting for anyone to try and move that horse.

Clark and Vicuna’s bed banter was fun.

"If the Thalmor don't own him. I've noticed they have a presence in Understone Keep, and the Silver-Bloods don't. No, if they had that much influence, there wouldn't be a Shrine to Talos." Clark was undecided about Jarl Igmund.’ - - Nice observations about the Jarl's possible loyalties.

Those guards were pretty clever, keeping an eye on his horse and using detect life to scoop up poor Clark.

I expect Vicuña is right!

I like the way Clark outwitted the guards right up until he needed his horse. This quest is fun to follow!

Acadian: Clark's uncertainty reflects mine. UESP tells me that Hrolfdir turned Ulfric over to the Thalmor, and also that it was Igmund. And much the same for who asked Ulfric to help in the first place. Cedran tells the player it was the father that arrested Ulfric, so I'm going with that version.

Grits: Unfortunately, it's a really small quest(line) and I haven't added to it significantly - just a bit of Clark's thinking as it unfolds. He's actually doing it himself because it fits his interests in Markarth - one of which being Vicuña. Now I have to move on to connecting him with the Dragonborn.

-----------

Previously: Clark was arrested at Markarth stables, trying to hitch up his wagon.

----------

Part 8 - Cidhna Mine

Down in Cidhna Mine, it took Clark several days of toil, digging at the silver veins, before he got any contact that might lead him to Madanach. He figured that only the King in Rags would be any help to him now.

He'd noticed that there was an iron gate at the back of the mine area which was always locked. A large Orc was standing guard over it, too, although he was a prisoner, like the others. Clark had never seen him digging, only standing guard there.

The jailers never came down into the mine itself. They were mercenaries, working for the Silver-Bloods, rather than city guards, and they stayed on their side of the main gate at the top. That was where everyone went to collect their food, and hand over the silver ore they'd dug. No silver, no food, so all the prisoners had an incentive to work.

It wasn't clear where the Orc's food came from, as he didn't seem to be doing any of the digging. He was large enough to just take it from the others if he wanted, but Clark hadn't seen that happen.

One of the other prisoners saw him looking towards the iron gate. "If you want to speak to Madanach, you've got to get past Borkul the Beast first." That told Clark that Madanach was indeed back there, and gave him a name for the Orc. Clark decided that was enough of an introduction, so he'd approach the Orc and see what happened.

Borkul demanded a shiv as toll. "I don't have one, and Madanach's expecting me." Clark replied.

Surprisingly, the Orc believed him and let him through. Clark was equally surprised when Madanach actually was expecting him.

Madanach was planning to escape the mine soon, and Clark was welcome to join him, but first he needed to go back and talk to Braig, so he'd understand their cause.

Braig told Clark how his young daughter, Aethra, had begged the Jarl to take her to prison instead of her father. The Jarl took the daughter, but not just to imprison her. Braig was forced to watch his daughter being executed. As her head rolled off the block, they hauled Braig away to Cidhna Mine anyway.

He called the Jarl Ulfric, however, not Igmund. So this had been quite a few years back, just after Madanach was deposed, when Windhelm's Jarl had control of Markarth, and Igmund was not yet on his father's throne. According to Cedran, the hostler at the Markarth stables, Hrolfdir, Igmund's father, had turned over Ulfric to the Thalmor as soon as he'd got control of his city back. Igmund had inherited a city that was firmly in the Imperial camp, and not much he could do about it.

It also wasn't clear to Clark whether Madanach's survival was due to Hrolfdir's intervention or someone lower down the chain of command. Obviously Thonar, and presumably the rest of the Silver-Blood clan, had something to do with it. But had they kept it from the Jarl, or was he aware of his city's prisoner?

Madanach still had a test for Clark. Grisvar the Unlucky, the only Nord prisoner, wasn't coming with them. He had to die first. Madanach handed Clark a shiv, a crude blade made from a rusty piece of iron railing. Several of the prisoners had one, but they usually only threatened each other with them.

Clark found Grisvar working in one of the tunnels. "Madanach says hello." Clark said, and had to duck as the man's pickaxe swung at his head. That was all that was needed to provoke the others. Grisvar found himself under attack from all sides. He didn't seem to be popular among his peers, and he was quickly dead, without any help from Clark.

Madanach seemed satisfied. He led Clark further into the tunnels. "We'll leave as soon as it gets dark. Then we'll only have the guards to deal with. Many of the Nords in the city will oppose us, if we're seen."

The tunnels led into the Dwemer ruins, where they encountered frostbite spiders, and a couple of dwarven automata. The prisoners were poorly equipped, but they had the superior numbers, and several of them could use spells. By stopping frequently to heal and recharge, everyone survived to reach the door out into the city.

A young woman in Forsworn "armour" was there to meet them. Her name was Kaie, and Clark thought she'd have been quite attractive, if it wasn't for the severe hairstyle and the war-paint. She handed out armour and weapons to everyone, including returning the equipment confiscated from Clark when he was arrested. She gave him some Forsworn things, too, in case he wanted to fit in with the group. It was all enchanted, which perhaps explained how they got away with wearing so little. Clark had noticed a bias towards magic among the Reachmen, so this wasn't unexpected.

Kaie told him that he'd be welcome at Druadach Redoubt, which was apparently their headquarters, and hinted that she'd personally see to that.

They still had to get out of the city. They hadn't gone far before they ran into a city guard, and Thonar Silver-Blood was with him. Thonar confronted Madanach and the two soon came to blows. Thonar and his guard were heavily outnumbered, and both were quickly killed. The Forsworn continued to the city gates.
Clark went along with them, but they parted at the stables. While the Forsworn prisoners headed off towards Druadach Redoubt, Clark collected his horse and carriage and set off back towards Whiterun.

---

As ever, the horse's pace was slow and steady, and Clark was unable to persuade him otherwise. Clark was constantly looking over his shoulder, expecting a contingent of guards to be on his trail, but nothing happened. Either they'd chased Madanach in the other direction, or the death of Thonar had removed his bounty.

There was only the one road down the valley, and the cliffs were high on either side. This was prime bandit country, but Clark was surprised not to encounter any. Were the Forsworn keeping them in check? There didn't seem to be many aggressive wild animals either, and the few he saw were more interested in chasing goats.

Clark stopped around dawn at Old Hroldan. He hadn't eaten, and the horse needed water. He declined the use of Tiber Septim's room, and just bought some food for the journey. He'd stop again later, and sleep in the back of the wagon, but right now, he didn't want to waste the daylight.

He needed to stop every few hours to feed and water the horse. When it got dark, he pulled off the road and set up camp. The horse was tethered to a tree, and he slept in the carriage, under a bear pelt. This was his routine for the next few days, until he reached the Western Watchtower outside Whiterun.

Something had happened here since he headed for Markarth, a few months ago. The tower had obviously been attacked, and much of it was now rubble. There were signs of fire, more than just the wood from the buildings burning. Someone or something had been using flame spells.

He continued to the stables, and left his horse and carriage with Skulvar. "Did you see what happened at the watchtower?" he asked. You could just about see the tower from here, and any war-parties might have passed close to the stables.

"Aye, it was a dragon that attacked. Flew right over here and blasted it with flames. Irileth and some of the guards went down there and fought it. Killed it, too, from what I hear."

What a neat walkthrough of that quest! As I’ve said, I’ve not done that one so whatever Clark says sounds good/gospel to me.

That Clark takes good care of his horse speaks highly of his character, and I’m glad they had a safe trip back to Whiterun.

A dragon attack! Woot! This raises all sorts of questions about how much of the main quest you will weave into Clark’s tale. Will there be a Dragonborn? And if so, who? You’ve alluded to having a Dragonborn in your story who will not be Clark. I’ve toyed with many ideas that use someone other than the primary game character as a Dragonborn. I look forward to seeing where Clark takes us.

I've revealed in other threads that Diablita from Cyrodiil will be the Dragonborn, and that Karliah is Clark's daughter, so he won't be the Guildmaster in Skyrim either. I don't intend him to do anything but side-quests, and leave the main quest lines to others, except that he'll get involved in some of the Thieves ones as a side-kick to Gilda - the Steed to her Emma Peel.

He is already a Thane in Whiterun, but that doesn't stop Diablita being one, too. The same for any other hold where he may go. Solitude, for example, already has Bryling and Erikur as Thanes so I'm assuming any hold can have several. I also assume that the heads of the Battle-Born and Grey-Mane clans are Thanes in Whiterun. Diablita will have to do the quests on Solstheim, as only the Dragonborn is appropriate to those, but each of the other quest-lines could be done by others.

Since I have the DLC's, he'll build a house, follow Diablita to Solstheim, and meet Serana after the Dawnguard stuff is over. In most cases, he'll observe or be told about the events of the quest-lines but not participate. I already have 30+ episodes drafted, and I haven't got to the quests of the mod I'm trying to create to continue the Thieves Guild again.

I don't yet have a candidate for Arch-mage, and the only connection to the College of Winterhold is Enthir's overlap with the Thieves Guild. Since Bethesda tangle all the quest lines, I'll probably have to choose before long.

You know, I never realized that Grisvar the Unlucky was the only Nord down there.

A young woman in Forsworn "armour" was there to meet them.

The magical inclination of Bretons is a solid reason for going around less than fully clothed. They can compensate, plus in the older games more armor meant less effective spells.

I can imagine Clark’s slow and nervous departure from the Reach. I love that he missed the tower attack. Seeing how you weave the quests through your story without making them the focus is always fun.

Acadian: Clark taking care of his horse is because it seems it's impossible to buy one that can draw a wagon or carriage - which turn out to be the same thing in Skyrim, as there's only one model.

Grits: And I didn't notice until I checked the UESP site that all the Bretons were witchblades. I suppose that makes up for the lack of weapons beyond shivs.

--------------------

Previously: Clark has returned to Whiterun from Markarth, much delayed by a spell in Cidhna Mine, to find that a dragon has attacked nearby in his absence.

--------------------

Part 9 - Back to Breezehome

Lydia greeted Clark at the door of Breezehome. "Come take a look at Gilda. She's filled out a lot while you were gone, and she's grown herself a pair of funbags."

"Stop calling them that!" Gilda's voice complained from the room at the back. "You're just jealous!"

Clark doubted that. Lydia had always been content with hers. Enough to get whatever attention she needed, without hindering her fighting ability. She did, of course, know the value of goading an opponent, and was probably giving Gilda a lesson she hadn't figured out yet. Still, he was curious as to what had happened while he was away.

Gilda came through to the living room, and Clark got to see what Lydia meant. She looked like she'd burst out of the top of her dress at any moment. The laces had been let out any number of times, and she could barely tie them any more.

"I don't know if her mother promised you a virgin, but I'm sure those will be adequate compensation." Of course, Lydia was joking. She knew that Clark didn't put any store in virginity, but Gilda didn't. She blushed, and confessed that she had put her new man-magnets to the test, with all the success they deserved. Lydia had taken her out to the Bannered Mare as soon as she thought Gilda was ready for it, and they hadn't often returned alone.

The rest of her was nicely filled out, too. She showed no signs of following her mother to excess, but she'd got curves where she used to have angles, and her face was beautiful where it used to be just pretty.

"They've ruined her as an archer, you know." Lydia couldn't stop having a dig at Gilda's fortune. "It's a good thing she's skilled with a one-handed sword."

Clark looked puzzled, but Gilda picked up a bow and showed him the problem. She didn't nock an arrow, just pulled back on the string until...

They did get in the way of the bowstring. "So we'll have to teach you spells instead. You don't need to be as accurate with a fireball, anyway."

"Did you teach Gilda to cook? I'm starved after that long journey," he asked Lydia.

"I'm the housecarl, so I do the cooking in this house. And I've already started a venison stew, which will be ready in about half an hour. Why don't we go upstairs while we're waiting?"

"All of us? There's only one of him," Gilda objected.

"You don't know my Thane, do you?" Lydia responded. "It's about time you did."

---

Naked, Gilda reminded Clark a little of Vicuña, shape-wise at least. Her breasts were newly grown, and hadn't started to sag. From what he'd learned from the Dunmer, they wouldn't if she used one of the amulets to keep them well-supported. He had one that he'd made, and although it wasn't as strongly enchanted as he hoped to achieve later, it would be beneficial to her now. "Put this on, and tell me how it feels," he told her.

"Like I'm swimming, and the water's holding me up. But just where I need it."

"Did you bring one for me?" Lydia asked.

"I can make one if you think you need it," he replied. "Feeling droopy?"

Lydia just laughed, and pushed Clark onto the bed. "Come on, the stew will be ready soon, and I want to be properly satisfied before we eat. And Gilda's going to want the same, so get to work! You've been away too long, and you have a lot to catch up on!"

Clark lay on his back and let the ladies choose their places.

---

(use your imagination here)

---

Lydia had finished eating, washed her bowl, and put it away in the cupboard by the time Gilda and Clark came downstairs. "It's a good thing I made stew," Lydia remarked, "You can leave that simmering for hours, and it won't be over-cooked."

Gilda was wearing her new amulet, and little else. Lydia was fascinated by the way her breasts just floated. Clark could see her looking down at her own. Eventually she shook her head, and started to ladle out the stew into two more bowls. "I want to intimidate my enemies, not mesmerise them," she announced.

"What do you think?" Gilda asked Clark, laughing.

"It's hard to look at those and still be capable of thinking," he replied. "You need to learn how to make the most of that."

"You'll teach me, won't you?" she asked, as innocently as she could manage.

---

Gilda and Clark went up to the Jarl's palace, to see what spells Farengar had to offer. As usual he was quite dismissive, and resented the intrusion on his time, until he realised that they were paying customers. They were looking for some kind of long-range destruction, that Gilda could use instead of a bow.

Farengar pondered for a moment. "She's got two choices at her level: either the weaker Frostbite and Sparks - they aren't any stronger than the Flames she already knows and have similar range, which is to say, not much. Or you can take the projectile spells, Firebolt, Frost Spike, Lightning Bolt at Apprentice level, and she can get some training from Wuunferth in Windhelm."

"How much training would it take?" Gilda asked.

"Not a lot, it appears that you're close to Apprentice level already, and once you get there, you'll be able to cast the spells more easily. I mean, you can cast them now, probably, but then you won't have the magicka to do it again. Why don't you take Sparks for now, and Ice Spike for later? That way, you'll have an alternative to the flames if you encounter resistance, like Dunmer have, and the Ice Spike will give you a stronger spell as soon as you reach it. Longer range, too."

"Using the Flames and Sparks will advance her skill without training, won't it?" Clark added.

"Precisely, and as I said before, she's not got far to go. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to examining this dragon bone Irileth brought me."

"Then practice is what we'll do," Clark decided. "Windhelm's in the wrong direction, for now."

"Oh, are we going somewhere else?" Gilda wanted to know.

"Yes, I left some unfinished business in Markarth. I want us all to go back there soon."

What a fun episode!

I really had to laugh that Gilda’s growth spurt had ruined her as an archer!

Loved the exchange with Farengar – and how subtly you remind us of the recent dragon attack by having him examining a dragon bone brought in by Irileth.

Fun times at Breezehome. Gilda of the mesmerizing breasts!

Good point that practice is as good as training for advancing Gilda’s Destruction skill. You described Farengar’s attitude perfectly!

Acadian: Gilda was on a trajectory to becoming over-powered, so she needed a few limitations. Clark may not see it that way.

Grits: Farengar's a bit of a cartoon character, but he does sell spells.

--------------------

Previously Clark returned to Whiterun to find a changed Gilda. Now they're going back to finish what was started at Markarth.

---------------------

Part 10 - Kolskeggr

As the three of them rode along the road back to Markarth in Clark's carriage, they talked about the "unfinished business" he'd mentioned.

"I don't know what effect Thonar Silver-Blood's death will have on that family's business interests. Thonar handled the commercial side of everything, leaving his brother Thongvor to deal with the Jarl and the Thalmor. Now he's gone, the mercenaries may have left the Karthwasten mines, especially if nobody's paying them any more. If not, we might have to persuade them."

"In the city itself, they were shaking down all the other merchants for protection from the Forsworn. They've lost the ability to control them, now that Madanach's free, so the economy's probably on the upswing. And I might be able to make a bid for the brothel in town, instead of having to start another out in the mining camps."

"On the other hand, Madanach's now got a free hand, and there's no knowing what his intentions are. The Forsworn attacks may well continue anyway, even if Thonar's not behind them," Clark concluded.

"So where do we start?" Lydia asked.

"Karthwasten's the simplest for us to deal with. If the mercenaries are still shutting the miners out, we eliminate them. That gets Ainethach on our side, and weakens the remaining Silver-Blood interests. There weren't many of them when I was there, maybe four or five. It will give us an opportunity to see how Gilda does with her fighting skills, as well."

"Why is that mine so important?" Gilda asked.

"Well, like Cidhna Mine in Markarth itself, it's one of the biggest sources of silver in Skyrim; and there aren't many others. There's a second mine in the town, Fenn's Gulch, but that's just about worked out. Sanuarach is the one the mercenaries are in, and it was producing well until they arrived. There are smelters outside each of the mines, so the locals can ship out refined ingots, instead of the bulkier ores. The Silver-Bloods either want to take it over, or put it out of action, and we can put a stop to that."

"Isn't there a gold mine somewhere close, as well?"

"Yes, Kolskeggr, and again it's a major producer, but there are gold mines in a lot of other regions, so they wouldn't have hoped to corner the market in gold. Silver was the more important metal back in Cyrodiil, because it was used for weapon-making. There were a lot of creatures there that could only be affected by silver weapons, or enchanted ones. Most of the mines in Cyrodiil are long ago worked out, and only a few nuggets come out of them. So there's a significant export maket, too."

Lydia knew that werewolves and undead were damaged more by silver weapons, but she hadn't heard of anything immune to normal ones. Clark told her about the will-o-the wisps in the swamps of Blackwood, near the border with Black Marsh. "And your undead here in Skyrim are more substantial. In Cyrodiil, they get a lot more ethereal shades, like Gloom Wraiths, who can hold a sword, but you can't hit them with the same one they're carrying!"

"They sound really impossible to deal with."

"Enchanted or silver weapons, or spells, work well enough. And at least they don't shout Thu'ums at you, just toss a few regular spells. The Draugr Deathlords with the Disarm shout can be a real pain by comparison." He thought back to Ogrim the Restless, when he'd helped Dralsi clear out the tomb that became the Twilight Sepulchre. His first experience of Thu'um had been rather painful.

Lydia shuddered at that thought, too. "I'm glad we just have a few mercenaries to look forward to."

Clark turned the horse off the Markarth road towards Karthwasten. They'd be passing Kolskeggr Mine soon, and maybe Pavo would have something to trade.

Outside the mine was a woman dressed in fur and feathers, and not a lot of either. Clark recognised the Forsworn armour, and wondered if his involvement in Madanach's escape from Cidhna Mine would affect anything. But either she'd not heard about that, or didn't care, and an arrow came flying towards them.

Clark released the horse from the carriage and sent it out of harm's way while his two companions dealt with the threat. He was pleased to notice Gilda using the shock spell she'd learned from Farengar, and that she had the sense to zig-zag towards the archer. Lydia was using her own bow to return fire, and seemed to be holding the Forsworn's attention as the greater threat.

Before Clark could join the battle, Gilda had reached her, and ended it with a thrust from her sword. But now another man was coming from the bridge. Clark hurled an ice spike at him, both to show the others where he was, and to slow him down. Lydia's bow, and Gilda's sparks finished him before he could reach them.

The door to Pavo's cabin was locked, and nobody seemed to be there. They back-tracked a little to the path up to the mine, and met another Forsworn guarding the entrance. Again, three on one made it relatively easy. Clark was glad they hadn't encountered all three of the Forsworn at once.

"Think Pavo's in the mine?" asked Gilda.

"I'd suspect we'll find nothing but more Forsworn. Pavo's probably fled, if he had time to lock up first," Clark responded.

"So do we clear the place out for him?" Lydia proposed.

"If we don't, then we'll have them waiting for us when we come back. Maybe with reinforcements. But we'll need to be careful. We haven't encountered any of the Briar-heart mages yet. They're tough customers!" Clark had seen their spells first-hand during his escape from Cidhna Mine.

"I'll lead," Gilda offered. "I can sneak better in my leather gear than Lydia in her plate. And you haven't got any armour at all, Clark."

Clark pointed out that he'd cast Ebonyflesh as soon as he saw any Forsworn. "But that will get their attention, won't it?" she persisted. He let her lead.

They all crept down the mine passage, until Gilda spotted a guard. She dropped back and told Lydia, who moved forward with her bow. Clark handed her a vial of poison. If Lydia could drop the guard with one arrow, then he wouldn't raise an alarm.

He fell, never knowing what hit him.

Gilda resumed scouting forward, and around the next corner were two Forsworn together. That would need a different approach. Clark could throw a fireball, but only one. He didn't have enough magicka, or skill in destruction, for more. But that would affect both of them, and hopefully they'd then be weak enough to dispatch quickly.

They were lucky, and both the Forworn were killed by the fireball, but the noise of the explosion brought others from deeper in the mine. And one of them was throwing frost and ice in their direction, as if he had limitless magicka. Gilda ducked into a side-passage, as Lydia and Clark retreated. Clark was holding up his strongest ward, and Lydia was firing her bow over his shoulder into the advancing group.

The sword-wielding Forsworn fell to Lydia's arrows, but the mage pressed forward, continuing his frost attack. He passed the passage where Gilda was hiding without a glance sideways, concentrating entirely on Lydia and Clark.

Gilda stepped silently out of the shadows, and cut his throat. Just in time, as Clark's magicka ran out and his ward with it. That fireball hadn't left him with much.

They searched the rest of the mine, and found no more Forworn. No sign of Pavo and his miners, either. Hopefully, they'd escaped to Markarth, or to Karthwasten, which is where they were headed next.

I liked your ‘industrial’ demand (weapons) for silver justification as to why its value rivals or exceeds that of gold. Similarly, I enjoyed Clark's worldly observations regarding the different challenges posed by undead in Skyrim vs Cyrodiil. Disarm shouts or immunity to normal weapons; either can cause quite a challenge to many warriors I should think. No worries in either province for bound weapon users though.

It was also fun to read the teamwork the trio used in that mine.


Nit: ’Clark was glad they hadn't encountered all three of the the Forsworn at once.’ - - A redundant ‘the’ near the end of this sentence.

Acadian: Any excuse for a link to the Oblivion stories. There's more team tactics in this one. It's the only way to beat the numbers.

---------------

Previously Clark and company (Lydia and Gilda) had cleared Kolskeggr mine on their way to Karthwasten to clear the mine there.

----------------

Part 11 - Karthwasten

The miners in Karthwasten were alarmed at the sight of the three blood-stained adventurers riding into town. But Enmon recognised Clark as the man who'd rescued his daughter. "Did you get her safely to Markarth?" he asked.

"Yes, and she's settled in at the Temple. I'm surprised she hasn't written to you... Wait, perhaps she has. The courier would have had to pass Kolskeggr Mine, and we just cleared Forworn from there. If he had any sense, he'd have turned back. There's no way around that doesn't lead you into more of them."

"So that's Forsworn blood all over you? You should go talk to the mercenaries before you clean it off. Maybe they'll just go away if you look scary enough."

Clark doubted it, but it was a valid point. It wouldn't hurt to give them something to worry about.

Most of the mercenaries in the mine weren't particularly well-equipped, and did look a bit nervous as Clark and the two women strode past them to confront Atar, the leader. He wasn't impressed, but then, he was the only mercenary wearing a decent level of armour. Clark suggested that the intruders leave quietly, but Atar just laughed. He had them outnumbered, and felt confident.

A couple of seconds later, it was the other way round. Lydia and Gilda struck quickly, and the lightly armoured men stood little chance. Atar swung his sword at Clark's ward, with little effect. However, his nordic carved suit was shrugging off their attacks, too, helped by a stout shield and a decent block skill.

Gilda stepped back a little and sheathed her sword. Using both hands, she brought her frost to bear on the stubborn mercenary leader. As he slowed, the others dropped out of sword range and switched their attacks also. Clark hit him with shock, and Lydia used her bow. He flailed with his sword, but they were too far away. With a frustrated roar of pain, he fell lifeless off the platform to the rocky floor of the mine.

"If that armour's adaptable to fit me, I want it!" Lydia declared. "The shield, too." It did seem to be a bit better than the steel plate she currently used. Gilda shrugged. She preferred leather, so she could move quietly and quickly. Let the fighter have the plate.

Clark told Lydia to pile everything onto the wagon, and they'd figure it all out back in Markarth. Moth and Gorza would know if the armor could be reworked, or if it was better to sell it, and buy something else. They'd told Clark that they could make ebony equipment, if he brought them the materials. Nordic carved hadn't been mentioned, and maybe that needed something else in its construction.

Clark told Ainethach that he was back in business, and the miners all rushed back to work. Lash gra-Dushnik came up to them as she went into the mine. "I know you're already Blood-kin, Clark, but I'll let our people know what Gilda and Lydia have done today. They'll be welcome in the strongholds, too."

---

"This is nice workmanship," Gorza said, as Clark showed her the armour they'd taken from Atar. "It won't be hard to reshape it for Lydia. If you have any quicksilver, I can improve it, too."

"Not ebony? It looks like they used ebony to make it."

"Oh yes, they did, but they used quicksilver as well, and that's what makes the difference. It's not quite as strong as all-ebony, but it's a lot lighter. And I know it's a matter of taste, but I think it looks better too."

Clark had some ingots of quicksilver, so Lydia got an upgrade she wasn't expecting. He felt he'd regret her exchanging a full helm for an open-faced one. The steel plate did keep her relatively quiet. Lydia poked out her tongue at him, since he could see it now.

"You're quiet, Gilda. Do you see anything in Gorza's stock that you need?"

"No, but if we're going anywhere near Cancelmo, I'd like to ask him if he has any stronger spells."

"If you're wearing that tight leather when you ask him, I'm sure he'll come up with something."

Gilda giggled at that one. She wore leather for a whole lot of reasons, after all.

---

Their next stop was at the Treasury House, where there were a couple of recent widows. Eltrys had died before Clark was imprisoned, and Thonar when he escaped. Rhiada was expecting Eltrys' child, and Clark wanted to be sure she was prepared to raise the child alone. Betrid had married into the Silver-Bloods, and might be still treated as an outsider by that close family.

Rhiada didn't even know that Eltrys was dead. She was used to him being away from home for extended periods, and nobody had told her anything. Clearly the Silver-Blood family didn't want anyone to know about the events that had lead to his death, and had covered it all up.

Thonar's death was a completely different matter. Nobody was talking about anything else. They didn't know about Clark's involvement, and to be fair, that was minimal anyway. The Forsworn with Madanach had killed him. Clark had escaped with them, but that was all. Betrid certainly had no issues with talking to him about it. He seemed sympathetic, unlike the rest of them. She'd expected some inheritance, but everything of Thonar's had gone to the family, not his widow.

"I'm used to being able to buy my own jewels, and fine clothes. Where's the money for that going to come from now?"

"Don't you have any skills?" Clark asked.

Betrid looked embarrassed. "I got expelled from the Temple of Dibella for using my skills. Or at least, taking payment for them. And I'm not a Guild member, so I found myself a husband, instead."

"Perhaps the Guild is where you should be looking now. There might be an opportunity here soon, either a new location, or an expansion of the one in town. I'll let you know, when I know more myself."

Rhiada was still wearing a tavern wench's outfit, even though she was starting to show a bulge of new life. Clark wondered if she had anything else to wear. Eltrys wouldn't have been earning much as a metal-worker, and even less now he was dead. Most of the family's income probably came from her job here as a book-keeper, and the Silver-Bloods probably weren't too generous with her wages.

She'd heard Clark talking to Betrid about the Guild job. "Was that the Guild of Prostitutes you were speaking to Betrid about? I nearly joined up with them before I met Eltrys. Of course, I'm in no condition for that kind of work, now."

"There might still be work for a book-keeper. Not everyone in the Guild works on her back."

"Do you think so? It would be good to believe I have another alternative if I lose the job here. This one still seems needed, even though Thonar's dead. People still need things recorded, and I imagine that settling Thonar's affairs will mean more work than usual, but it's unclear who I'm working for now. If it's Thongvor, I know he doesn't like Bretons. That could account for why I'm not getting paid much, too."

"As I told Betrid, there may be changes at the brothel soon. If it does expand, then there may be new opportunities for both of you."

---

It seemed sensible to visit the brothel next, and discuss developments with Vicuña.

"Have you brought me some new recruits?" she asked, gesturing at Gilda and Lydia.

"No, but I may have some if they're needed. Has business picked up since I was here last?"

"A bit. Since Thonar Silver-Blood died, the merchants seem to have a bit more gold left in their pockets, and some of them like to spend it here. We'e seeing more of the guards, too, and not just to keep order."

Vicuña changed the subject back to Gilda. "Did you make her an amulet for those? It looks like she needs one."

"Yes, but not as strong as you could. Enchanting's not my best skill. Why don't you talk to her about it directly?"

"I am being a bit rude, aren't I? But you haven't introduced us yet."

"Gilda, this is Velith Telvanni, professional name Vicuña. She's the roaming inspector for the All-Tamriel Guild of Prostitutes, and she's the one who showed me the enchantment on your amulet. She was with me when we rescued Enmon's daughter Fjotra from the Forsworn."

"Vicuña, this is my apprentice Gilda. We've just got back from Karthwasten, where we cleared the mercenaries from the mine. You remember, the ones who'd just moved in when you and I were there. And Lydia here is my housecarl from Whiterun."

"I'm pleased to meet both of you. Gilda, can you undo your top, so I can see how well Clark's amulet is working?"

Lydia whispered in Clark's ear. "I didn't think anyone could have boobies as big as Gilda's, but the Dunmer's got her matched. And they make Gilda's look heavy."

"That's because Vicuña's amulet has a stronger enchantment than I could manage. Hers are just about weightless." Clark watched as she lifted Gilda's breasts, feeling the remaining weight.

"I'll make her a better one. My twins' twins deserve that!"

Gilda was delighted. She loved the floaty feeling she had already, and the prospect of more was very appealing. She followed the Dunmer back to an enchanting station, and Clark followed, too. He was intending to get some more enchanting training from Hamal, but he could learn something from watching Vicuña, as well.

"Wow, this is even better! What do you think, Clark?"

"I think at least one of you two should put hers away, before it's too much for me," Clark answered. Neither believed that was possible, but Gilda refastened her leathers. The straps seemed to be straining in a slightly different direction now.

"They're not the reason you came here, are they?" Vicuña asked. Clark told her about Rhiada and Betrid. "So one definite, and one maybe later? And she's pregnant right now? I'd prefer it if she started here as a book-keeper before she gives birth. If she likes that part of the job, it will be easier to persuade her to take on extra duties later. She won't feel under any pressure to do that while she's expecting, especially if everyone can see that."

Great teamwork again inside the mine. Gilda is showing more and more that she’s likely a mage at heart. I chuckled about Clark’s misgivings putting Lydia in an open faced helm.

And they’re all blood kin now!

Then back to Markarth. Guild work is never done as Clark does a bit of recruiting, then Vicuna lifts her twin’s twins.

Last time: I really enjoyed the discussion about silver and the difference between the undead of Skyrim and Cyrodiil. Gilda is developing a nice skill set. I loved the image of Clark casting a Ward and Lydia shooting through it. Yay teamwork!

Karthwasten: With Lydia in an open helm now Clark will get to see her eyes rolling. What a great idea to recruit Betrid! I had forgotten about that bit of dialog in the game where she mentions her temple days. Vicuña’s twins’ twins, lol.

Acadian: Gilda's got to compensate for her ... archery limitations, so destruction magic is her ranged attack. She'll continue to prefer one-handed with a sneak bonus, though, when she gets the chance.

Grits: Gilda's going to be doing that again this time, with variations. Lydia being more audible has nothing at all to do with her being left behind on the next trip. Just coincidence, really!

--------------------

Previously: Clark and company cleaned up their loose ends in Markarth.

--------------------

Part 12 - Road to Riften

They returned to Whiterun to drop Lydia off, and Gilda and Clark headed towards Riften.

Clark hadn't heard from his daughter, Karliah, in ages, and he was beginning to get worried about her. She'd followed in her mother's footsteps, as one of Nocturnal's Nightingales, and the last he'd heard was heavily involved with one of the others, an Imperial called Gallus Desidenius. The third Nightingale was Mercer Frey, the current head of the Thieves Guild, which had its headquarters in Riften.

Gilda had shown promise with her stealth, and the two places you went to train that further were the Thieves Guild or the Dark Brotherhood. It wasn't a difficult choice between those. And if Gilda was going to become a successful merchant, she needed to know how thieves operate. If she did well, she might get some level of immunity, too.

The other attraction was the uniform. She knew she looked good in tight leather, and theirs would make the most of her assets. For the journey, however, she was wearing a merchant's dress, and looking just like the apprentice she was.

---

Their wagon was stopped by a bandit demanding a toll, outside Valtheim Towers. Clark got down from the wagon, and put himself between the bandit and the horse, while he argued with her. Gilda could see another bandit out on the bridge, so she moved the wagon into the shadow of the tower where it would be safe from archers.

The one on the ground saw her do it, and broke off her conversation with Clark to draw an axe. Clark sent a lightning bolt through her at close range, then cast his Ebonyflesh spell in case any more bandits came down. An arrow flew past him, fired from the top of the tower.

Gilda and Clark rushed into the base of the tower and ran up the stairs. "If we meet more archers, stay behind my ward, and use that Ice Spike to shoot back," Clark instructed.

They met another axe-wielder first, coming down the stairs. Clark blocked and Gilda thrust past him with her sword, before the man could react. One more down. Clark peeked through the window slit and saw an archer waiting on the bridge, with his bow half-drawn, and aiming at the door. He cast a strong ward and stepped through the door, with Gilda firing Ice Spikes past him. The archer went over the side of the bridge, but not before Clark had taken an arrow. They retreated into the tower as Clark removed it and healed the wound.

"We'd better clear this tower first, or we'll just get shot in the back trying to get over the bridge," he reasoned. "Didn't you say there was another archer at the top of this one?"

Gilda nodded and was first up the stairs towards the top. She was sneaking up, hoping to catch the archer unaware, as she usually preferred. She found him peering over the edge, wondering when they'd come out onto the bridge. She struck silently. If he hadn't already been dead, the fall would have killed him.

When they got back to the bridge level, two more were coming across looking for them. Neither carried bows, and the bridge was too narrow for them to dodge Gilda's Ice Spikes. But her magicka reserves ran out just as the lead one dropped. The other stepped over his body triumphantly, and ran towards her. Clark pulled her back into the tower where they could both engage the man with their swords. Lydia had taught her well, and as she dodged back, Clark struck the man's side. When he tried to retaliate, Clark stepped back, and the bandit's swing missed him. Gilda stepped forward and thrust her sword at his flank. He flailed at the two of them alternately, each time getting hit by the other.

"That's the way to do it," Clark smiled over the corpse. "If you find yourself in the opposite situation, just keep going after the same one, and don't let him recover. Especially if you have a shield facing the other one."

"I'm putting on some of their armour before we cross to the other tower," Gilda responded. "Close tactics are one thing, but they'll have the same advantage I just did while we're on the bridge."

"Except that you'll have your magicka back, and will be able to return fire." Clark handed her a restorative potion. "In case you run out again, drink this. Oh, and since they'll have room to dodge, use the lightning instead of the ice. It's faster, even if it doesn't hit so hard."

Clark went first, running across the bridge. He couldn't zig-zag, but he varied his speed so the archers couldn't predict where he'd be so easily. Gilda noted that, and copied when she followed, at one point stopping completely to make the archer try to duck a bolt of shock. She was pleasantly surprised when he failed to do so, and staggered back from the parapet. She didn't think she'd killed him, but he wouldn't have much left.

She found Clark just inside in a mages' duel. Both parties had their wards up, and spells weren't getting through. Gilda stepped around and used her sword instead. Scratch one mage.

She let Clark know about the archer at the top of the tower. "Better go up there next before he can heal."
They had to go out onto the ramp, and came under fire from someone on the rocks. But the ramp circled around the back of the tower and they were quickly out of reach of the arrows. The archer at the top got off his knees as they appeared, and drew a dagger. It didn't help him, as Gilda gave him another dose of shock before he got close.

"Just the one on the rocks?" Gilda asked. Clark hadn't seen any more than one, but he'd been more interested in getting behind the tower than in counting. He peeked over the edge of the parapet, and saw the archer still watching the ramp. "He knows we have to come down."

Gilda drank Clark's potion and cast a lightning bolt with both hands. "Now he can stop waiting."

---

The bandits didn't have a lot of gold stashed in the various chests around the towers. Presumably the tolls hadn't been making them much. A few restorative potions, and discarded weapons were the only other things they found. Since they had a wagon, they collected all the bandits' armour and weapons. Usually they'd be too heavy to be worth taking, but this time was different.

"Are there any more places like this between here and Riften?" Gilda asked. "If there are, I'll stay in armour."

"No, not until we reach Fort Greenwall, just before Riften. And I want to stop at Darkwater Crossing tonight. There's a small mining village there, and they welcome traders. We'll trade at Shor's Stone tomorrow as well, but that's not far from Riften, so we'll not need to stay the night there."

---

They reached Darkwater Crossing without further incident, unless you count wolves. They were always a nuisance, wherever you went in Skyrim, but not a real threat to a competent traveller. Gilda thought she heard a bear, too, but it didn't come onto the road, and they didn't stop to look for it.

After trading with the miners, mainly food and trinkets for ores and ingots, they put the boards across the wagon to make their bed for the night. "Before we turn in, come this way," Clark told Gilda, and led her north past the smelter.

Clark led her down a slight slope to a pool. "Feel the water," he said.

"Ooh! It's warm! I wasn't expecting that."

"The water here bubbles up out of the ground hot, not far from here, and the pools around the edge are just right for soaking in. You don't want to stay in too long, as there's a lot of dissolved minerals that will start to make your skin itch. But it's just the thing for a dip before bedtime."

They luxuriated in the warm waters for a while, floating easily on their backs. It seemed that the heavy mineral concentration in the water buoyed them up more than usual.

Clark wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a dragon fly over, heading toward the Throat of the World. There were rumbling sounds coming from that direction, too. Perhaps the Greybeards were practising their Shouts.

They were just climbing out and towelling off when Annekke and Verner walked down the slope. "Oh, it's you two," Annekke said. "If it was the other miners, I'd be worried that the water would be dirty. They'll all probably be here in a minute."

The two Nords stripped off and took Clark and Gilda's places in the pool.

"Mining must be good exercise," Gilda remarked, as she and Clark climbed into the back of the wagon and pulled the furs over themselves. "Verner's in excellent shape. And I know you were peeking at Annekke."

"We'll probably meet their daughter tomorrow in Shor's Stone. She's a miner there."

"Really? They have a grown daughter? I didn't think they were that old."

"Let's just say that Annekke may have been a bit adventurous when she was young, and wasn't very old when she had Sylgja. She'd still be happier as an adventurer than a miner, but when she found this place, it was too good an opportunity to miss. With Verner's family being mining folk, and Sylgja on the way, they settled. Since her daughter grew up and moved out, though, she's getting restless again."

---

Verner and Annekke gave them a letter to take to Sylgja, since they were going that way. "And ask her why she hasn't been to visit," Annekke added. "She's probably found herself a man, and forgotten her parents."

Gilda would have liked to forget hers, but she said nothing.

Clark and Gilda did a great job vs those toll-grubbing bandits. Super teamwork again.

I see that Gilda is now comfortably augmenting her magicks with blade and even considering armor (tight leather armor of course). I love how she dealt with Clark and the other mage locked in a ward vs spell standoff. Indeed, those wards make a fine target for a blade (or arrow).

This whole day of travel felt wonderfully familiar to what Buffy and I experience during a typical day. I was intrigued by Verner’s request regarding Sylgia so I looked things up on UESPwiki – and, how neat to discover a new quest! Given that we often stop and chat with folks at DW Crossing, I’m a little embarrassed that I didn’t know of it before. Perhaps because we don’t visit with the folks in Shor’s Stone as much. As Clark says, it’s so close to Riften that there’s generally not much reason to stop there long enough to chat much.

Acadian: Gilda's preference is sneak & blade, but needs magicka for range, as she can't use a bow. But mostly, it's a case of fitting the offence to the enemy's weakness.

It was Sylgja's mention of being healed, but still unable to walk far, that prompted this part of the story. It fit well with Gilda's nose, and Clark's history. The fact that Riften has a face-sculptor is barely hinted at, but I'm assuming that's known. My take on magical healing is that you still need to understand anatomy to know what you're fixing, or you just treat symptoms, not causes. It also gives me another opportunity to link back to Clark's past in Cyrodiil.

----------------

Previously: Clark and Gilda had stopped off at Darkwater Crossing, and Verner and Annekke had asked them to take a letter to their daughter Sylgja at Shor's Stone.

----------------

Part 13 - Shor's Stone

At Shor's Stone,they found Sylgja and the other miners sitting around a table in front of one of the houses. It was about the time for an evening meal, so that wasn't too odd. But the conversation soon told them that the miners had been there all day.

"What's wrong with the mine?" Clark asked.

"Spiders, that's what! We went in there a couple of days ago and found the bottom of the mine infested with them. No idea where they got in, but they've been moving gradually up, and it won't be long before they're up in the village, attacking us!"

"Can't the guards deal with them?" Gilda asked.

Filnjar spat. "They're as useless as a fifth wheel on a wagon. Spend all their time looking for enemy soldiers out on the roads. It seems they're more worried about Riften than this place."

Gilda looked over at Clark. "How big do the spiders get around here? I've seen them as big as a wolf near the farm, but they don't go around in packs, so they're not bad."

"They vary," he replied. "I have seen them bigger than a bear, but those are rare. And if two that size meet each other, they'll fight. You just have to keep out of the way and finish off the victor while she's still weak."

"She?"

"The big ones are female. The smallest ones are male, and the middle sized ones could be either. All just as venomous, but the big ones bite harder."

"There aren't any cracks in the rock large enough for the giants, if that's any help," one of the miners offered.

Gilda and Clark headed for the wagon. They needed a few things if they were going to clear the mine. Potions to replenish magicka were the main ones; but they were out of those. Clark rummaged around and found a scroll. "I can use this to summon a flame atronach," he told Gilda. "Spiders hate flame, so use that in preference to your other spells. And keep your sword in the other hand, in case one gets close."

A couple of the spiders spat their venom as soon as Clark and Gilda entered the mine, but Clark already had a ward up, and it did little. While Gilda sprayed flames to keep the spiders back, Clark summoned the flame atronach to finish them. It headed down the spiral ramp, looking for more. They followed, listening to fireballs flying ahead of them. Then there was a pause, and a larger explosion signalled the end of the atronach.

"Let's hope it got most of them," Clark muttered, and readied a fireball spell of his own. He couldn't cast many of those, but they could hit a whole cluster of targets at once. "If there's one, you hit it with your flames; if there's more, then keep back and let me do it."

"There's one!" Gilda announced, and turned on the heat. Clark put up a ward briefly, as he saw the creature try and spit, but it collapsed before it could do so. He looked over the edge, and saw two more starting up the ramp.

"My turn!" he called, and sent a fireball down to meet them. "I don't have enough magicka for another, I shouldn't have used the ward."

"It doesn't look like you'll need it. I can't see anything else moving."

They crept carefully down, watching in all directions, including up. The bigger spiders were especially fond of hiding in a web above you, and dropping behind after you'd passed. But they really were all dead. There was a gap in the rocks where they'd probably come in. It was too small for them to crawl into, but enough for the spiders.

"Do you have a magicka potion?" Clark asked. "I'd like to send a fireball in there, just in case."

"No, you'll just have to be patient. Didn't you tell me that magicka regenerates faster if you relax?"

Clark waited for his fireball to recharge. He kept his sword ready in case anything emerged, but nothing did. Then he fired into the gap, and was gratified to hear the sound of falling rock as the small tunnel collapsed.

"I think we can tell Filnjar his spider problem is over."

---

"We almost forgot," Clark told Sylgja. "Your mother sent this. She was wondering why you hadn't been home to visit."

Sylgja took the letter. "I couldn't go anywhere for a time. I took a bad fall in the mine, and broke my leg, and there was nobody here that knew enough healing to fix it. I was fortunate that a priest of Mara came by and healed it, before it set crooked. It still feels sore, though, and I wouldn't want to walk all the way to Darkwater Crossing on it yet."

"I wrote a whole bunch of letters while I was laid up, though. If you're going back the same way could you take them?" She held up a satchel that was overflowing with letters.

"Why didn't you get a courier to take them?" Gilda wanted to know.

"The couriers may be able to find you when they have a delivery, but have you ever tried to find them?" Clark retorted. "You have to go to a city to send a courier, and Shor's Stone isn't a city yet. Even in a city, you can find the office, not the couriers themselves."

"I met one on the road once," he continued. "Since he wasn't looking for me, he ignored me and just kept walking. One job at a time, no exceptions."

Clark turned back to Sylgja. "We'll take the letters. It will give us an excuse for another dip in the hot springs. But I'm concerned about your leg. If it still hurts, it might not have been healed properly."

"Clark's a good healer," Gilda assured her. "He fixed my broken nose, even after it had set wrong."

Sylgja was convinced. "Come inside, and you can take a look at it. I'm not giving all the men a free show. I get enough attention with my clothes on."

Inside the house, Sylgja slipped her heavy mining pants down and stepped out of them. Clark sat on a low stool and ran his hands over both her thighs. "They feel the same, and I can't detect any trace of the break. If you still have any discomfort, it's probably not there."

"But that's where I feel it," Sylgja answered.

"Did you get any other injuries at the same time?" he persisted.

"Bruises all over, but they're gone now, too."

"Any on your back?"

"Yes, why?"

"Take your shirt off, I need to check your back, too."

Sylgja was hesitant, but did so. She wasn't wearing anything underneath, which accounted for her reluctance.

Clark managed to ignore the front view, even though Sylgja took after her mother, and turned her around to run his hands down her spine. Sylgja winced as he touched a couple of sore spots. One was low down, near her buttocks. "I think your bruises were deeper than you imagined. This should feel better." Clark sent a healing spell into the damaged tissues, that the priest had missed.

"How did you know to do that?" Sylgja wanted to know.

"Well, I read a lot, and I've been lucky enough to have access to the Mystic Archives, back at the Cyrodiil Arcane University. They had a lot of books there that you just can't find anywhere else, and an archive of research notes from the mage scholars. The College of Whispers and the Synod raided the Archives after the Mages Guild split up, so a lot of that material disappeared."

"But among what remained was material from Ulicetta gra-Kogg*. She was falsely expelled from the Guild at one point for suspected necromancy, and her notes locked away from general use. When she was reinstated, nobody thought to release it. I found it, and read it all. It appears that she was working on transplanting body parts from the recently dead to the living. She'd had problems with limbs attaching, but having no feeling, or being paralysed, and that had led her to research what made sensation and control work. I found it all fascinating, and it explained so much, such as why a spine is hollow."

"I don't have the magicka pool to be a full-time healer. I've invested more in health and stamina, because they're more useful to my lifestyle. What I do have is the skill and learning to make the most of my limited magicka. Some of it is obscure stuff like I just used."

"So that's why you needed fortifying potions to work on my nose?" Gilda asked.

"Yes, and it's why you won't see many healers that do face-sculpting, because the secrets have been lost, and it takes too much magicka. I'll tell you a story about that later."

-----------------------

*See The Gweden Report for more explanation of Ulicetta gra-Kogg

This was a neat episode. I liked Clark’s insights into sexing the spiders based on size. I agree that fighting them with fire is fun.

I chuckled at Clark’s observation that the shirtless Sylgia took after her mother - and it wasn't just the outfit. Those miner outfits really make any woman look busty – Buffy almost fell forward onto her face when she tried one of them on.

Wow, Clark was very clever to figure out that Sylgia’s leg pain probably originated in her lower back.

I like how you touched on the fine line between restoration and necromancy. I does indeed seem that a serious healer would want to study the ‘restorative’ aspects of necromancing dead or damaged tissue back to vitality. I know that Grits has also had Abiene exploring those aspects of necromancy.

Excellent teamwork at Valtheim Towers. I love the way Gilda ended the mages’ duel. That was fun to read.

I’ve really enjoyed the exploration of healing. There’s so much more to it than the game mechanics can show, and reading about it in stories makes the game world feel richer.

Clark’s intuition that Sylgja’s leg pain had its origin in a back injury was a little too real for Grits! Very well done! I grinned at the family resemblance. Most of my characters have been unable to carry off that miner’s outfit look.

Acadian: The mages' duel scene is standard Clark tactics. He'll keep them busy with futile attacks on him, while his partner finishes it. Gilda catches on fast, which is why she became his apprentice.

Yes, it was Abiene that started me down the road to comparing healing and necromancy. That, and building the back-story for Ulicetta, Mucianus Alias and Mariette Rielle in his Oblivion story. When I read Traven's Black Arts on Trial, I found myself agreeing with Ulicetta completely, and it was hard to believe that she was really a necromancer, so her story came out of those two components.

Grits: It's always been a problem to combine the instant full-spectrum healing of TES's magic with its apparent limitations (scars, blindness, etc.), so I've taken the approach that it depends on the knowledge of the caster. You can't heal what you don't know needs fixing. Sylgja was one of the loose ends the game leaves demanding resolution.

Swinging a pickaxe is clearly good for the pectoral muscles. I've noticed the same thing in Orc women who use big axes and hammers.

-----------------

Previously: Clark and Gilda had cleared the spiders from the mine at Shor's Stone, and finished healing Sylgja. Now they've reached Riften.

-----------------

Part 14 - Riften

"Later" was that night, in their room at the Bee and Barb in Riften. He told Gilda about the time Taminwe and Ocato gave him a new face. Gilda had enough trouble believing that Clark was really as old as he said. Lydia had told her that Clark was immortal, although she hadn't explained how, or why. That seemed possible, if you did a big favour for the right Divines or Daedric Princes. But now he was claiming that the Potentate of All Tamriel had been his personal physician?

"It wasn't like that. They had good reasons of their own for doing it, and it was their idea, not mine. Besides, Taminwe did all the face-changing, Ocato just helped out with the paralysis, because of the extra magicka it needed. They were both Altmer, so you can imagine what it took."

"And she made me look older, so I wasn't actually as old as I looked when becoming immortal stopped me aging. Yes, I'm older than I look, but not quite as much as it appears."

Gilda's head was starting to spin. "I'll probably regret asking, but tell me how the immortality thing happened."

"It was a joint decision by Azura and Nocturnal. They're sisters, as far as that applies to the Daedric Princes, with all the usual sibling rivalry balancing the closeness. When my good friend Minx became Guildmaster of the Cyrodiil Thieves Guild, Nocturnal summoned her to visit her realm of Evergloam for some tasks, and persuaded me to accompany her."

"I have an idea what it takes to persuade you," Gilda mused. "Are you saying that she..."

Clark nodded.

"I'm starting to feel inadequate. And you haven't got to Azura yet."

"Then I'd better stop, and reassure you, hadn't I?"

---

"So Nocturnal has a connection to the Thieves Guilds, right?" Gilda asked as they walked through Riften the next day.

"Yes, she usually recruits her Nightingales from their ranks. It seems that thieves are the best suited to the tasks she wants done. It's a matter of having the right skills."

"Is that why you want me to train with them? Because the skills are those that Nocturnal wants?"

"Not directly. Nocturnal recruited me, and I wasn't a guild member, and didn't have the sneaking and lock-picking skills. The ones I did have were useful for getting secrets a different way, by persuasion. I can teach you that part, but I can't teach the other. I've filled the gap with larcenous partners in the past, but I want you to be more of a well-rounded merchant."

"Yes, I know you like well-rounded. But do I really need to join the Thieves Guild to get training? You want me to be an honest, fair trader, don't you?"

"The Thieves Guild aren't the cut-throat rabble you probably think they are. They have rules, handed down from Nocturnal. They help the beggars, because they get information in return. And they're one path to becoming a Nightingale."

"Your daughter's one of those, isn't she?"

"Well she was the last time I saw her, which is quite a few years ago. Karliah was a member of the Guild here, but she disappeared a while ago, along with Gallus Desidenius, the Guildmaster at the time. Mercer Frey was the third Nightingale, and he took over as Guildmaster, and presumably still holds that position. If you can find out anything about Karliah, I'll be grateful."

Clark noticed Brynjolf at his stall in the marketplace, selling his Falmer-blood elixir. He took Gilda over and introduced her. She seemed to make a good impression, but there would still be a test before Gilda could join the Guild.

"Show me you can pick the lock on Madesi's strongbox, and put the ring you find in Brand-Shei's pocket. I'll provide the distraction, while you demonstrate your skills."

That seemed reasonable, and Gilda felt she had the ability to do that. The two traders weren't guild members, who'd be watchful for those tricks, and she half-expected her second test would be to put it back. She was rather surprised when a guard was summoned to arrest Brand-Shei.

Clark wasn't expecting that either. "You go with Brynjolf, and see what he wants next. I'm going to see what's going on with Brand-Shei."

---

Gilda walked into the bar at the Bee and Barb and joined Clark at his table. As Talen-Jei brought her a drink, she told Clark about her afternoon.

"First off, Brynjolf tells me to meet him down in the Ragged Flagon, at the back of the Ratway, and then leaves me to make my own way, while he goes in via the secret entrance I'm not allowed to use yet. That's apparently the next part of the test. I don't know if I was supposed to sneak past all the low-lifes who wanted to cut my throat, or deal with them permanently, but I ended up doing a bit of both. It's a real maze of tunnels down there, so I guess they were testing my navigation skills, too."

"And my next test is to collect loan repayments from some of the merchants. That's why Brand-Shei was the target today. He was late with his payment, and needed to be taught a lesson. I have to do the same for Haelga, Bersi Honey-Hand, ... and Keerava here."

"That matches the story I got about Brand-Shei. You don't have to get anyone else arrested," Clark pointed out. "Just persuade them to honour their debts. Reasonable people know what they owe."

"The way Brynjolf explained it, they don't feel like they do owe anything any more. Debts to the Thieves Guild don't count, aren't legal, or something." Gilda looked worried that she'd have to threaten them with violence, which just wasn't her way.

Talen-Jei was back at their table. Clark asked him if he knew that Keerava had borrowed from the Thieves Guild. He didn't, and looked alarmed; he didn't want any harm to happen to her. Clark didn't believe that the Guild would do her any harm, but Talen-Jei did. And it seemed that Keerava would, too. "Just tell her you know about her family in Morrowind," Talen-Jei told Gilda. "She'll be frightened, but at least she won't risk her own safety that way."

Clark shrugged. It wasn't a real threat, after all. He told Gilda to do that, if she thought it would be effective. She could make it seem like she was concerned for the family's well-being, too.

Gilda went up to the bar, to talk to the Argonian, and returned a couple of minutes later with a small purse of gold. "She paid, but I don't think she likes me."

"I have an idea how we can make it up to them," Clark offered. "Talen-Jei's been looking for some flawless amethysts to make an engagement ring. He wants to marry Keerava, and that's an important part of the rituals. I can get him the gems for that."

Gilda cheered up a little at that idea. But there were still Haelga and Bersi to deal with.

"Those can wait until tomorrow," Clark told her. "We'll think of something."

---

Clark had met Svana Far-Shield outside the Bunkhouse the previous day. She'd told him about her aunt's devotion to Dibella, and the shrine she had in her room. Clark wasn't sure if Svana was scandalised by Haelga's practice of the Dibellan arts, or the fact that she wasn't getting paid for it. He'd declined Svana's request to embarrass Haelga with proof of her promiscuity. Only three different men in a month sounded quite restrained to him, and he was sure Haelga felt the same.

Clark and Gilda went into the Bunkhouse to look around. Clark noticed a statue of Dibella, standing on a table in the corner. It was different from the ones he'd seen in Markarth, and he wondered if it had been made by the same people. He picked it up and looked for a maker's mark on the bottom.

"Be careful with that!" Haelga rushed over to make him put it down. Gilda noted her concern and asked her what she'd do if it got lost or damaged.

"I can't even think about that," the Nord replied. "That statue's really important to me."

"More important than paying back your loan?"

Haelga paled, adding two and two in her mind and getting worried. "Here's what I owe, now just leave."

---

Bersi Honey-hand had apparently heard that Gilda was collecting, and just paid up without any fuss. He looked very relieved to have done so. He was clearly concerned about something, but nobody had told Gilda what it was, and she really didn't care now. All that mattered was that she'd done what the Guild had asked her to do, and maybe now she'd be a full member, without anyone getting hurt.

I think the area around Riften is beautiful – PermaAutumn.

That was a nice review of Clark’s history with the Cyrodiil TG, Nocturnal, immortality and such.

All the Skyrim TG stuff is unknown territory for me, so it’s fun to see some of it courtesy of Clark and Gilda.


Nit: ’He'd declined Svana's request to embarass Haelga with proof of her promiscuity.’ - - I think embarrass is the correct spelling? My doubt is simply to allow for the possibility of a British spelling variant I am unfamiliar with.

Acadian: Unfortunately, you're only going to get brief overviews of the TG quests as Gilda reports back to Clark, without a lot of detail. He'll be doing a few of the other Riften ones, to establish a base there.

-------------------------

Previously: Clark and Gilda arrived in Riften, and Gilda did some minor tests to gain admission to the Thieves Guild. She wants training, and Clark wants to find his daughter, Karliah.

This part is a bit early because of the holidays.

-------------------------

Part 15 - Meeting Mjoll

When Gilda told Clark what they wanted her to do next, he knew something was wrong. The only beneficiary of that assignment would be Maven Black-Briar, whose Black-Briar Meadery stood in town, overlooking the docks. He told her to go along with their plans for now, while he asked around the market.

"Is that your new Thieves Guild uniform?" he asked. "I like the tight pants on you, but I think you're overdoing the top. Isn't it supposed to do up more than that?"

"It would if they'd had one in my size. This one's too tight, and some of the straps just don't reach. They tell me I'll get a better one after a couple more jobs, so not to worry for now."

"I'm not worrying, if you're not."

---

The woman in the banded iron armour, with the axe on her back, wasn't someone he knew as connected to the Thieves Guild, or the meadery, so he went over and started a conversation. Mjoll introduced Clark to her "saviour" Aerin, a young Nord who owned a property in town. To Clark's shrewd eye, Aerin appeared to be one of those minor sons of someone wealthy, who didn't have to work for a living. He wondered how these two were connected.

Mjoll told Clark how Aerin had found her wounded outside a Dwemer ruin, where she'd gone in search of treasure. He'd healed her wounds, and brought her back to Riften to convalesce. She'd found the city to be a cess-pit of corruption, and sworn herself to do what she could to clean it up.

Aerin didn't seem to be too concerned about the corruption, but he did seem genuinely worried that Mjoll might come to harm if she tried to oppose Maven Black-Briar. "She has the Thieves Guild in her back pocket, and undue influence with the Jarl. Much more than Mjoll can safely take on."

"Come on over to the Bee and Barb, and tell me more," Clark invited. "I'm sure you each have an entertaining tale for me."

Mjoll's story came out in a disjointed set of anecdotes that Clark had to piece back together. He could understand why she became an adventurer, not a bard, because she didn't seem to be able to keep more than a couple of sentences on the same subject. The only thing she could keep on track about was her sword, "Grimsever". She'd lost it in the Dwemer ruin where Aerin found her, and she felt helpless without it. Presumably it was the sword her mother taught her to swing. It certainly didn't have anything to do with hunting cliff-racers in Morrowind with her father. Seriously, who goes looking for those things?

They were all drinking heavily as they chatted. That seemed to be something all Nords did, and Clark had to admit the local mead was very repeatable. It might have accounted for Mjoll's incoherent tale, too, but Aerin told him she was always like that.

"I think it's the stress of nearly dying in that ruin. She won't be herself until she gets that sword back."

He went on to tell Clark his version of how he found her outside Mzinchaleft. Her armour had been ripped apart by the Dwemer constructs, and he could see that she was worth saving. His healing talents were meagre, but he did what he could at the scene, and brought her home with him. The priests at the Temple of Mara were able to do a better job, and she was quite recovered, apart from her pining for her sword.

"I hope she's rewarded you properly," Clark remarked.

"Quite vigorously, and often," the young man grinned. "But I wasn't expecting her to stay as long as she has. I'm quite worn out."

They told him what they knew of the Black-Briars. Maven the matriarch, running the whole town. Hemming, her son and deputy in all things shady, and his two children, Ingun the would-be alchemist and probably poisoner, and Sibbi, who was currently jailed for murder.

Clark was astonished at a custodial sentence for murder. Either you paid the family a blood-price, or became their servant, or you were executed. Jail was for thieves, debtors, and the like. Maven must have wanted Sibbi safely out of the way for a while, and would have him released when it suited her.

They also told him that Jarl Laila Law-Giver was totally ineffective, except for providing the Black-Briars cover. The guards did nothing to limit the Thieves Guild, which appeared to work for Maven. They could easily be bribed, although it was cheaper if you were a Guild member. Laila was nominally on the Stormcloak side of the Civil War, although it was common knowledge that one of her sons espoused the Imperial cause. Mostly, she stayed out of the way in Mistveil Keep, and let Maven run the city for her.

---

One thing Aerin and Mjoll hadn't covered was the skooma trade. It was clear to Clark that several of the dock-workers were using it, especially as one of them had told him as much. Wujeeta, an Argonian working at the fishery, had begged a healing potion from him to take away the withdrawal symptoms. He'd given her that, one that had a cure disease effect, too. Perhaps it would cure the addiction. He'd ask her tomorrow how she felt, and maybe get a clue as to where the skooma was coming from.

---

Gilda was back from her trip to Goldenglow Estate. She'd stolen the bill of sale from the safe in the house, but she wasn't happy about the vandalism of the beehives they'd had her do along the way. "Apart from the wasteful destruction, it meant more of a chance for the mercenary guards to detect me doing it. I ended up having to kill a couple of them."

"And I talked to Vex when I got back - she's the master lock-picking trainer - and she told me that she'd been there and failed to get in. I wish I'd known that before I went. Still, I got a burglary commission from her for the next time we're back in Whiterun. Which will be soon, as they want me to get my next job from some guy at the Honningbrew Meadery."

"OK, get Lydia to help out with that job, if you need her, but do the burglary on your own. She's no good at sneaking in that plate she insists on wearing."

"Aren't you coming?" Gilda wanted to know.

"No, I want to find out if the Black-Briars are connected to the skooma trade. They seem to be in control of everything here in Riften, just like the Silver-Bloods were in Markarth. And I still haven't found Karliah. Which probably means she doesn't want to be found."

---

Wujeeta pointed Clark at the warehouse as the source of her skooma. She'd never been inside it, always buying her skooma at the door, from a man called Sarthis Idren. Jarl Laila would have a key to the warehouse, of course, as the guards needed access to all the dockside premises.

Jarl Laila Law-Giver did have a key, and she was already aware of Sarthis Idren's skooma dealings. "But he's bribed enough guards that we can't get proof. Here, you try." She handed Clark the key.

This wasn't exactly what he wanted, but Clark took it anyway. He considered asking Mjoll for help, but he'd rather get her sword back before he did that. She didn't seem confident enough without it.

He visited the warehouse that night, hoping there would be nobody there. Of course there was, and he'd forgotten to cast invisibility. Sarthis fought viciously, knowing that he had no choice. It was a close call, and Clark had little strength when his body guard came up from the basement to see what all the noise was about.

However, he did have the magicka for a fireball. Clark was glad that the bodyguard wasn't another Dunmer, with resistance to fire.

Clark found several bottles of skooma, and a supply of raw moon sugar, in the basement, but no sign of any production equipment. They must be making the skooma somewhere else, and shipping it here, probably by boat. Then he discovered a note in a back room that confirmed it.

He took the note to the Jarl, who unsurprisingly asked Clark to deal with it. It was outside the city, so it was outside her jurisdiction. Or in other words, she couldn't be bothered.

No worries on the TG. After Oblivion, I ‘outgrew’ the need to do every questline. I do get the impression that the Sky TG is not as. . . light and whimsical as the OB TG. Mostly I was just letting you know that I won’t really have a framework of game reference regarding the TG – that has both pros and cons when reading fics I’ve found.

Wow, that’s some TG outfit Gilda’s almost wearing! I can imagine the young lady is grateful for the alteration assist she received not too long ago.

Yay for Mjoll! She and the Priests of Mara are about the only folks in Riften Buffy gets along with.
’He could understand why she became an adventurer, not a bard, because she didn't seem to be able to keep more than a couple of sentences on the same subject.‘ - - How true!

I don’t know this Jarl Laila well at all, but already she reminds me of Count Bravil.


Nit: ’He wonder how these two were connected.’ - - I'm sure that you meant 'wondered'.

Acadian: Laila's just lazy, she lets Maven run the town for her. If Maven becomes Jarl because of the Civil War, she's a much better match for Terentius.

--------------

Previously Clark had given Wujeeta, an Argonian worker at the fishery, a healing potion, and she'd given him a clue to the skooma trade in Riften. He'd gone to the Jarl, who'd asked him to do the dirty work of investigating. So while Gilda was away on guild business, he made a trip out of town.

--------------

Part 16 - Thaned again

Cragslane Cavern was an invisibility job, if ever there was one. But just to make it harder, the place was full of captive wolves, who could smell Clark, even if they couldn't see him. Fortunately, they were all caged, being used for pit-fighting contests that people would bet on. And nobody paid any attention to their agitation, except maybe to raise their bets.

The ringleader of the bandits running the place, however, detected Clark as soon as he entered the room at the back where he was making the skooma. With most of the others between him and the exit, Clark decided he needed a distraction. He pulled the lever that released the pit wolves, and mayhem began.

Clark resumed his invisibility, and dodged back into the crowd of gamblers. The wolves were biting at anyone they could, and the bandits were swinging wildly at an enemy they couldn't see. Only the boss bandit had any idea where Clark was, and there always seemed to be someone else in between them. After a couple of blows from his warhammer hit the wrong targets, he was fighting his own men.

All the action was now happening down in the pit area, with everybody fighting everybody else. Clark crept up to the entrance, overlooking the battle, and waited for it to thin a bit. He didn't expect it to be long before the boss bandit, the man he heard someone call "the butcher", had the chance to come looking for him again. When he did, he was severely weakened by all the fighting, and Clark was waiting with a fireball. He still needed his sword to finish the man off, but he was down to his knees at that point.

Clark had picked up a few wolf bites, and cuts from a gambler's dagger, so he stopped to heal himself before searching the cave.

There wasn't much, except for skooma and moon sugar, but he did find a copy of a book on lockpicking. "Gilda could use this," he thought, and put it in his backpack.

---

The Jarl was delighted with his success, especially as it hadn't needed any help from her guards. She rewarded Clark with the privilege of buying property in Riften, and the title of Thane was available if he did.

It appeared that his dealings with the merchants of the city had already brought him to her attention. The fire salts for Balimund, the gem materials for Madesi, the Ice Wraith teeth for Marise, had all helped trade, (and increased the tax base, or she wouldn't have cared). He put in a good word for Brand-Shei while he had the chance, and got him released from jail.

Clark wanted a base in Riften, so he talked to the steward. "Honeyside is available, if you have the coin. It has access to the docks, and its own garden. Quite a nice little property. And as Thane, you'll get a housecarl to guard it, too."

It was worth the 5500 septims he paid for it. She'd asked for 8000, but settled for less, as he didn't have any more gold on him, and he might have changed his mind. Clark could quickly raise more, as his wagon was still full of weapons and armor from Valtheim that he hadn't yet sold. Balimund had bought some, but couldn't afford to buy them all. He'd told Clark to come back the next day, when he'd have done some deals and got more cash. Bersi would probably buy some of it, too.

He looked in at the house, on his way to the wagon. A young Nord woman, dressed in the same basic steel armour Lydia had been wearing when they first met, was waiting inside. Standard housecarl uniform, he presumed.

"I'm Iona, your housecarl. Sworn to protect you and your property, carry your burdens, but not to sleep with you, unless I'm in the mood for it."

That was pretty much the same little speech that Lydia had given him, too. He'd bought the furnishings for Breezehome at the same time as the house, so she'd moved into a well-furnished place with a comfortable bed. That might have been what put Lydia in the mood right away.

"Then come and carry some burdens right now. I need to bring some things from my wagon to sell in the market. Then this place needs cleaning up, and refurnishing, before I move in."

"And don't worry too much about protecting me. I'd prefer not to have any pain, but it won't kill me. I'm immortal, so save your own skin first."

Of course, Iona wanted to know how he became immortal, but that explanation could wait. It was a long story, and they needed to get busy on the shopping, and housework.

---

Clark collapsed onto the bed. He and Iona had hauled weapons and armour from the wagon to Balimund's and Bersi's shops and gone to purchase furnishings at Mistveil Keep. They had tidied up the cellar, ready for adding the Alchemy and Enchanting facilities. Clark still needed more cash for those, but he'd cleaned out the merchants. They did have the essentials - bedroom, kitchen, garden, balcony. The last wasn't really essential, but it was relatively cheap, and it did add to the comfort.

Iona came and flopped exhaustedly onto the bed next to Clark. She had her own bed, down in the basement, so this was probably an invitation. "Help me out of my armour, I don't think I have the strength left to do it all myself." Yes, definitely an invitation.

Clark had to be very careful not to call her Lydia. The similarities were so many between the two of them. Same fit body, same youthful enthusiasm. Lydia now knew a few things that Iona still had to learn, but this was just like putting the clock back a year.

---

The next morning there was a knock on the door, and Clark found Gilda standing outside.

"You've been busy while I was away," she accused, looking pointedly at Iona. "They told me you'd bought this place when I asked around the Ragged Flagon."

Of course the Thieves Guild would know everything. Clark hadn't looked for new shadowmarks by his door, but he knew they'd have already been updated.

"I assume you've been busy, too," he countered. "Tell me about it."

"After putting Honningbrew out of business for Maven," Gilda began. Clark's eyebrow went up, but he didn't interrupt. "They asked me to go to Solitude and talk to someone called Gulum-Ei. It appears that the Guild's activities have been closely entwined with Maven's for some time, and someone's trying to stop that. The Goldenglow and Honningbrew jobs were primarily to investigate the interference, and everything pointed to the Argonian. But it turned out that he was just acting as an agent. For your daughter, Karliah."

"Mercer Frey told me that she'd killed Gallus, and then disappeared. That she was apparently waging war on the Guild and had to be stopped. I just don't know what to believe any more."

"Let him think you believe him, and go along with whatever they decide. Just let me know what's happening before you take any action yourself," Clark replied.

"Then I'm telling you now. Mercer has asked me to meet him at Snow Veil Sanctum, up near Winterhold. He thinks Karliah may be hiding out there, and he wants to kill her."

"Do you need my help?" Iona asked.

"Gilda will have to go with Mercer on her own, but the two of us should be in the area in case we can do anything. We can't let Mercer know we're following, and I don't know how to contact Karliah. This one could get messy very easily."

---

Clark and Iona stood by the road, staring intently down towards the entrance to Snow Veil Sanctum. They'd seen Mercer and Gilda go inside a couple of hours ago, but nobody had emerged yet.

The ruin was just about as far as they could see, and flurries of snow had obscured their view a couple of times. It was possible that someone had left during those, but surely they'd have seen them as soon as it cleared.

"Is that someone coming out now?" Iona asked. Her younger eyes had detected something Clark's couldn't. But yes, that did look like someone, dragging something out of the ruin. They decided to go and investigate.

The someone turned out to be Karliah, and the something was Gilda's unconscious body.

"What happened?" Clark asked.

"I shot her, Father, to save her life. Now help me revive her. I have the andidote to the poison I used, but I could use some help healing her."

Karliah was talking in riddles, but Clark was sure she'd explain before too long. He cast a healing spell over the unconscious Gilda, as Kalrliah poured the contents of a small vial down her throat. Gilda coughed, and opened her eyes. "Did you just shoot me?" she asked Karliah.

"Yes, and it saved your life. It slowed your heart, and stopped you bleeding to death when Mercer stabbed you in the back. I was intending to use that poison on Mercer, to paralyze him, so I could capture him alive, but it didn't work out that way."

"So he got away? After all that?"

"We didn't see anyone else leave, but there were times we couldn't see properly. He may have slipped out then," Clark offered.

"That doesn't matter too much," returned Karliah. "He's played his hand now, trying to kill the two of us. Maybe this is the time to go back to the Thieves Guild and let them know the truth. Then we'll have a better basis for hunting him down."

"Do you have any tangible proof?" Clark asked. "It will still be your word, and that of a recent recruit, against the Guildmaster's."

"I think we do," Gilda said. "There's this journal I picked up. The cover says it belonged to Gallus, but I can't read anything written in it."

Karliah took a look. "I recognise Gallus' writing, but this is in a language I don't know. Enthir in Winterhold is a scholar of ancient writings. He's a member of the Guild, and he knew Gallus from before I met him. There's a chance this is in a language he knows."