"Do you two always end up doing jobs like this?" The yet unnamed customer asked Aria as she grabbed her rope and threw it over her shoulder. "You don't even look old enough to hold a sword, I mean. Isn't this kind of thing a little dangerous with just two people?"

Aria shrugged as she began to leave, followed closely by the young Nordic fellow. On the way past the deceased largest cultist's body, she effortlessly kicked up his steel sword, catching it by it's blade to offer it to the client. "Dangerous? Buddy, when we say 'odd' jobs, we don't just mean we do spare work that's just lying around. We mean 'odd jobs' quite literally, too! Complications are fun..." the redhead smirked. The man seemed to still be coming to terms with just how easily two people saved him from certain death. His pursuers bled over the streets now, save for that one prisoner. Quickly and calmly, the two made their way to the stables to find Cronic waiting with a carriage. To get to the border, to Bruma, should be an easy trip... But then you had to throw these cultists into the equation, and perhaps any Thalmor 'helping' to patrol the borders of the Empire's territories.

"Time we set off... Again, I can't believe you two are really going through with this!" The client chuckled as he climbed into the back of the open carriage. He offered a hand to Aria, but she made one quick hop up to her seat instead. The hand was then offered to Cronic instead.

"Ya' already gave us every septim you had, might as well see it through - we're people of our word. Besides, this is easily the sixth most dangerous thing we've ever done. Just relax and enjoy the trip..." Aria said.

"Five-through one were a lot worse than this. Trust me on that." Cronic said, climbing into the carriage, taking hold of the client's hand. Once he'd sat down, he signalled to the driver they were ready to go.

"With odds worse than just four magically-adept cultists. Speaking of which, what the hell happened to the front door?" Cronic said, taking out a small stone, and set about sharpening his sword.

"I heard someone shouting in a language I didn't recognize before the Cultists burst in, but beyond that, I don't know how they knocked the door off it's hinges."

"Biggest one there tried to use a basic Thu'um; failed miserably - the guy still blew the door off with it though," Aria shrugged as the carriage departed. It took a left after leaving the stables, which would take them over the little bridge and into the hills around Riverwood after following the path. Pretty soon the terrain around them would change again and become mountains, and they would undoubtedly be dangerous. Especially with the parties involved!

"Still, that's pretty overkill. It takes years to learn how to shout, so how could they be able to do that merely weeks after dragons have begun to return...?" Aria asked neither of her companions in particular. The carriage driver shrugged, apparently listening in on the conversation. Aria knew one Thu'um, but kept it to herself as a last-resort power. It drained her physically, and it typically took a lot of concentration to prevent herself using it, then faceplanting in the middle of a fight due to intense fatigue.

"...Hm. I doubt any of these guys were this "Dragonborn" person. So it stands to reason that it's not out the question for any ordinary person to learn this "Thu'um". Cronic said to himself, glancing over the surrounding terrain, as though he were trying to spot anything that would seek to do them harm.

"...That being said... The cultist called Miraak the "One true Dragonborn." And Dragonborn are naturally gifted in the ways of the Thu'um, absorbing souls of slain dragons and using it to bypass the years of practice. And before you ask, I heard someone mention it during my travels. Curiosity got the better of me, so I asked about it. So if a handful of Cultists know the Thu'um, it's likely they learned it from their boss." Cronic said, as he turned to look at Aria.

"...Seems like we're gonna need a trip to Solsteim if we want to figure out just what's these guys' deal is. Either way, one thing at a time. Getting the client to the border safely." He said, as he glanced at the blade of his freshly sharpened sword, before sheathing it.

Aria nodded off half-way through the journey to the border in the Jerall Mountains. It was such a boring thing, waiting in a carriage. There was the occasional beast in the trees. Frostbite spiders travelling alone, not daring start a fight without their whole pack backing them up in the hunt. Wolves, who scattered as the carriage came through - if they wanted to rip a horse's throat out they had four humans to deal with. It wasn't worth it, but if they were really hungry they would've attacked anyway. And the other nuisance? Dragons. Aria heard they could see for miles with those massive, sharp eyes. Occasionally a few that lingered in the mountains would pass overhead, apparently unconcerned about the carriage. Besides, it was protected on both sides by thick forest. An attack could only be from behind or in front, or above - in a tight environment, the dragon might have a harder time than one might think. Aria was awake during the dragon's deafening calls, her hand rested on her Akaviri blade's hilt, but that was about it as far as her worries went. Bandits were rarer in the mountains, too. It was cold and unforgiving, so camps were useless. If bandits operated in the area, it would be from a cave or a barrow, perhaps even an old, forgotten fortress.

As the carriage reached the Bruma gates from north of the border, Aria rather ominously awakened. Something had alerted her... She looked up at the guards on the border crossing outpost, narrowing them. They didn't move, signal the carriage through or tell it to stop. Shouldn't they be greeted by one or two men? ...Aria could smell the blood with her heightened senses. Blood. The guards were dead, leaning on their posts as if they were relaxed.

"Stop. Take the carriage back onto the road. Cronic, with me. Client-man, you stay with the driver." Aria spoke clearly and confidently, giving the two no room to argue. Cronic didn't need to be told why - he was sharp, he'd travelled and likely seen things like this before. The work of bandits, usually. But on an Imperial border station...? What in oblivion had happened here? Aria jumped down from the carriage as the driver brought his horses back around, trotting off with the passenger. Both of them prepared hunting bows, eyes peeled as they waited for the Odd Jobs duo to make a decision.

"This is awkward... Does it feel like we're being watched, Cronic? Only, ...the smell of blood is very fresh. I could never get used to it. These people were killed within the hour. Maybe in the last few minutes..." Aria said, her katana being slid ever so carefully out of its saya.

(Well, they're already mixed up in the Solstheim issue. Now Skyrim also has it's Vampire problem, which in turn becomes Aria & Cronic's problem. XD)

"I don't like this one bit. Stay alert. Whoever did this could still be nearby. Search for clues. There has to be some evidence of the nature of the attackers." Cronic said, vaulting over the seat of the carriage before it turned around, and drawing his sword from it's sheath as he cautiously approached one of the guards, to investigate the cause of death, checking over the wounds and the like.

"Stormcloak attacks, bandit raids, an assassin... There's any number of things that could've killed these guards. Out in the wilds, that makes sense, but a border patrol? This day just keeps getting more bizarre by the minute." Cronic said, as he removed the helmet of the guard he was examining.

"Can't be that dragon that was overhead a ways back, otherwise it'd smell like a human barbecue..." Aria mouthed, staying close to Cronic in case the unknown killer or killers struck while they were apart. Sticking together was the best policy; ...when it could be helped, anyway. She approached the gates with slow, cautious steps and her eyes peeled for the slightest twitch in their surroundings.

"He.. Help..!" A weak voice blurred from the gate. One of the dead guards got to his feet, apparently he must've just been unconscious - his wounds looked fatal however. His neck was covered with a piece of cloth, saturated in blood. Stumbling closer to the two, he had to stop as he came to the tip of Aria's blade. "We never saw them coming... Tricked us into leaving our posts, and then they started massacring everyone... Are you here to help?" the border guard panted, clutching a bad wound on his lower chest.

Aria shifted her eyes to Cronic, then lowered her sword. But sheathing it was a bad, bad idea... The man looked like he was in no shape to fight, and he was definitely the victim here. "What happened?"

"My friends might still be alive... We got caught off guard, and just... I've never fought like that in my life!" The guard said, following loosely behind Aria as she approached one of many corpses outside the gate.

Aria inspected the body. The Imperial soldier was quite obviously dead - he had a dagger stuck in the side of his head for Talos' sake. But he still felt warm... She pulled down his collar, having noticed a redder patch than the rest of his tunic blotched into it. Two clean piercings... The man's eyes opened suddenly, gleaming red as blood. The second he moved, Aria rammed her katana into his head. "Cronic, it's Vampires!" she said as she got back to her feet. The 'lone survivor' suddenly tackled into the red-haired girl, trying to attack her neck with his unnaturally sharp teeth as they struggled on the ground. The black-bladed katana had been lost in the surprise attack, Aria clawed the dirt beside her trying to find it's hilt while she used her other arm to fight off the bloodthirsty opponent.

"Get off me, you fuckin' creep! Bloodsucking son of a bitch! Cronic!" Aria cried. Honestly, this was embarrassing. For a kid with such a horrifying reputation (to those who knew), she was disappointed in herself, mentally scolding herself for getting jumped like this.

As this was all happening, about ten corpses stumbled to their feet and began either shambling or charging at Cronic. Five vampires, five dead thralls. So, five were a problem and five were more or less just a slow, weak nuisance. One of the Vampires went down immediately, courtesy of the carriage driver and the client plunging two well-aimed arrows in it's head and heart. Clearly these two Nords weren't pushovers! Still, this left Cronic to deal with NINE enemies as their backup drew another arrow each.

Not wasting any time, Cronic swung his sword in self defence against the Vampires, swiftly decapitating one of the bloodsuckers, all the while noting Aria's predicament as he reached for something on the underside of his sword arm with his free hand during the break in attacks. Eventually, he pulled out a dagger from his sleeve, which he promptly used as a throwing knife, aiming for the neck of the vampire that was pinning Aria down.

"Dragons, crazed cultists, Vampires... Give me a fucking break already...!" Cronic thought to himself, rolling his eyes as he resumed fending off the Vampires and their thralls, impaling a second though the heart.

"Better check that everyone's not been sanguinare vampiris'd after this is over. Last thing we need is getting turned into Vamps ourselves."

"Why ain't you dead!?" Aria yelped in surprise as the weakened vampire shoved her guard arm away in a furious attempt to restore himself with her life force. He reared his head back, about to take the fatal bite. But, unfortunately for him, two arrows from behind were planted in his back, causing him to finally topple over and bite the dust instead. With that over with, Aria got to her feet with her sword hung loosely in one hand. A thrall tried to swing for her from behind with an axe, but the dead Imperial was quickly flipped over her shoulder with his own clumsy momentum. And with one quick jab of the katana in his skull, the undead man burst into a pile of glowing ash, re-dead.

Rejoining Cronic, the half-Akaviri sighed heavily as she joined the fight, "Vampires..."

As if the fight on the ground wasn't bad enough, three thralls also reanimated up on the gate, aiming their bows down into the fight below. But with their zombie-like aim, they might actually be an advantage to the humans!

"...I swear, someone must hate us up there today. We just can't seem to catch a break." Cronic said, pointing to the sky as he promptly got a Thrall in a headlock, using it as a meat shield to block the arrows fired by the thralls on the gate. As the Thrall turned into Ash, Cronic then turned his attention to an oncoming Vampire, and promptly slammed it's face into the dirt, before stomping down hard onto the back of it's head.

"Dragons, crazed cultists, and now this." Cronic said, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"If that's not an example of the powers that be giving us a hard time, what is?"

"Yeah, I've probably pissed off a fair amount of the Nine by now," Aria shrugged as she watched Cronic's back. If ever she wasn't diving into the thick of a fight, she was about to cause damage with fire instead. And those dead archers were a real pain in the neck! A large sphere of flame launched from the palm of her hand, and when it impacted with the three archers, they were thrown to a violent re-death on the Skyrim side of the border station. "I can't imagine why I might have pissed off any Daedra though... Gave 'em a hell of a lot of fresh souls."

There was only one Vampire left left now, dual-wielding Imperial swords and circling around out of the two human archers view. Four on one... Those thralls couldn't really be counted as real muscle anyway. Aria and Cronic had made quick work of them. The bloodsucker in a soldier's uniform licked his teeth and stared at the two, making sure not to let the client and the carriage driver catch him off guard with their bows. He was silent for a moment, and then...

"...Lord Harkon is going to kill you all, anyway. FIGHT ME!"

Carelessly, he charged at Cronic, aiming to dig one sword into his gut. Aria intervened trying to crosscut his throat, but it was defended easily enough with the vampire's free blade. "I have a hundred years experience on you!" he yelled defiantly. With Aria's sword pressed against his, unmoving, the only threat seemed to be Cronic. But that girl's eyes looked almost vampyric, it was actually pretty alarming... Her two-handed grip tightened, the blades sparking every time they inched against each other. With a hateful grimace and a growl from Aria, the vampire's arm fucking snapped! So much for a hundred years experience...

Coupled with whatever Cronic's finishing counter-attack would be, there would be one less vampire dotting Tamriel.

"Experience, sure. But your biggest mistake was underestimating us. Vampire or no. And for that, you just signed your own death warrant." Cronic said, impaling his sword through the Vampire's back and driving the bloodsucker to the ground, and shoving the blade all the way through the Vampire till it stopped at the handguard, effectively rooting the vampire to the spot, before flames lit up in his hands.

"Come on, whelp. It's time to BURN!" Cronic said, before holding both hands down towards the Vampire, as streams of flames emerged from his hands, engulfing the Vampire. Cronic was clearly in one of those moods where he didn't care about clean kills, and just needed to take his frustrations out on something, as demonstrated by his choice of spell; a Novice-level Destruction spell.

Once Cronic finally stopped casting due to having drained his Magicka reserves (And the fact the Vampire was now a charred husk), he pulled his sword out from the Vampire, cleaned the blade off and then sheathed it.

"Miraak, Harkon... How many more leader types are we going to piss off today?" Cronic said, as he turned to the Cart and it's driver, along with the client.

"...Don't think we caught Sanguinare, but better get checked out as a just-in-case. Last thing we need is becoming a bloodsucker ourselves."

"Yep, I'd love to get checked out for that vampire-y disease. I've never had someone dive on me trying to bite my throat open before... Cut open - but never bite open! Vampires..." Aria sighed heavily as she took a seat on the back of the cart. The client offered a hand to her, the spare bow still held in his free hand. She grinned before shaking it, giving the man a curious look. "You're going into Bruma, then?"

"Mhm. Thanks again, Odd Jobs. You two- well, three. Saved my life." The client said as he nodded at the carriage driver, who threw his bow into the back of the cart and reached for the nearest bottle of mead. "I can't imagine Vampires attacking the town directly, so I'll quick run across the border, see my family on the other side... At least I don't have to pay to get across, right?"

Aria shook her head and smiled, "Get going then, pal. Dragons, Cultists and Vampires be damned - in that order. We got you here safely." she chuckled, giving him a thumbs up as he began to walk off. He patted Cronic on the shoulder twice as he went on, carefully wading around the bodies and ash piles left from the fight.

Aria's proud gaze then fixated on her partner, "So...! We're gonna need a new door. And I believe Arcadia owes you a favour, so that should cover the disease-curing potions. Gods those things taste bland..."

"Take care out there, y'hear?" Cronic said to the client as he crossed the border.

"Better safe than sorry, boss. Only so much Restoration can do afterall." Cronic said, climbing up into the cart before turning to look at the Driver.

"I owe you a drink for putting up with this mayhem. Had I known this would happen, I would've arranged for horses instead." Cronic said to him, giving him a simple thumbs up and a small pouch of septims.

"Consider it hazard pay." Cronic said, before turning to look at Aria.

"Well, hopefully we can get a replacement door in before we turn in for the night. Probably a bit of a stretch, but after what's happened today, we could use something going right for once."

"Ah-!" Aria flicked Cronic's forehead suddenly as the carriage started heading back north, to Whiterun. "Don't you dare jynx it again. I'm overdue a long nap..." she chuckled, finally sheathing the black-bladed katana. Fortunately, they wouldn't have any problems on the way back. Threats, sure, but no attacks or anything serious. Even more fortunately is they got back to Riverwood by nightfall, so the road home was short and safe from there.

---

As the two walked up the defended slope leading to the Whiterun gates, guards nodded or stood to attention in acknowledgement of them. It seems Balgruuf let it be known that the Odd Jobs duo were important people, despite Aria's wishes to remain unrecognisable to outsiders. Still... Balgruuf had never let Thalmor into his midst - this could mean the city itself was on Aria & Cronic's side. That, she could be grateful for.

When they finally showed up outside the shop, Aria was pleasantly surprised to see a local carpenter packing up his tools to leave, ...having just installed a new door! Okay, now this was either a nice gesture, or Balgruuf wanted something from them. But then again, stopping a dragon was hell. Perhaps this was.. even more reward for their efforts? It was a dragon, after all... Shrugging with a gleeful look on her face, Aria entered the shop and went over to sit at her desk. And lazily kick back, as usual.

"Number two, go get us some curing potion thingies if the Cauldron is still open? If not we might have some spare stuff in the random junk under the stairs." Aria yawned. And to make her evening complete, the regular stray cat hopped in an open window, climbing onto Aria's lap for a sleep.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Cronic did as asked, and luckily managed to catch Arcadia just as she was locking up.

Explaining the situation to the Alchemist, Arcadia left and quickly came back with half a dozen potions of cure disease. A little unexpected, but then again, Cronic did fend off a few cultists that would've tried to kill her too after they were done with him.

Giving her his thanks, he took the potions back to the shop and put one down on Aria's desk, took one for himself, and put the rest atop a shelf, before uncorking the potion and chugging down the contents in one fell swoop.

"Blegh... Not the most pleasant taste in the world, but you make do with what you got." Cronic said as he unclipped his sword from his belt, going up the stairs to his room. It was only a single bed, but for someone who sleeps rough on a regular basis, a bed is considered a luxury item. propping his bow and sword against the wall, Cronic then sat down on the bed after closing the door. Slipping out of his boots and then removing his coat, folding up the latter and putting it onto the nearby night stand, Cronic lay down and began to ponder the days events.

"Dragons, insane cultists, and vampires. Today's been pretty eventful... And crazy. Well. Crazier than most of our antics, anyway." Cronic thought to himself, checking the burn on his arm, which had almost completely healed at this point.

"We need a bigger team. Province is going frickin' crazy, and not just because of the war..." Aria yawned, watching the stray's expression as she scratched its neck. She could've sworn it nodded at her for a minute there, but she was getting pretty tired now. Before she shut her eyes, Aria tipped the potion down her throat, letting the empty bottle fall upright on the carpet when she finished.

"...Don't worry, little guy. You'll always be number three..." The redhead yawned again, and was soon enough asleep in her typical kicked-back position. Not that this night would be different from any other. The nightmares just continued, regardless of how the day went.

---

As the Odd Jobs shop lights went out, a passing guard smiled beneath his helmet, giving the building a nod. A lot of people were finding themselves in the young duo's debt for all the right reasons... Nobody would disturb them, or think to betray them as long as Jarl Balgruuf held them in high esteem. They were saviours, but they would never be dubbed as such in the open.

---

(Aaaand morning! You do it, I'm gonna go to sleep now. xD)

Awaking with a yawn, sleepily rubbing one eye before sitting on the edge of the bed, Cronic waited for himself to fully wake up before he got ready for the day.

"...Must've dozed off in the midst of my thoughts..." Cronic said to himself, as he slipped his boots back on and donned his coat, making sure to fasten it up. Fixing his sword to his belt, Cronic slowly and quietly went downstairs. Sure enough, Aria had nodded off in the usual spot. This would mean that he'd have to go to the Bannered Mare for breakfast again. Last time he tried cooking up something to eat while Aria was sleeping, she almost broke his arm. Quietly unlocking and slipping out the door, he took a deep breath as he felt the sun on his face.

"Now then... What will today hold in store for us?" Cronic said to himself, as he turned to walk to the Bannered Mare, grateful that he was still breathing, given what they'd faced yesterday.

"...Should probably consider seeing if anyone in need of some coin is looking for work. Could probably use an extra pair of hands, given how chaotic yesterday was."

"That's the Justiciar! I'll take him!" A Nord girl's voice rang out from the chaos of the battle. The blonde broke from the fighting and went straight for the hooded Altmer, but the Thalmor agent just stood there with his cruel-looking Daedric sword.

Aria watched this battle scene from her past as she had so many times. The nightmares were relentless. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't change this... She couldn't save her friend in time. As the Nord girl moves to swing her dual blades at the Thalmor, one of her arms is violently taken off by an insanely fast dash from her opponent. Her wounded body lands behind the Thalmor, the poor soul is too shocked to scream out in pain. The Thalmor approaches his prey, pointing the tip of his sword at the girl. But a sound from behind him takes his attention off his kill. Aria roars, tearing through the Aldmeri troops in her way with an inhuman strength and pace, knocking and slashing them aside like skittles. She leaps for the Altmer for a killing blow, but just as she's going to make contact... he vanishes in a puff of purple smoke. Not waiting to ask how he did it, Aria breaks from her berserker state and runs over to her dying friend, falling to the ground and cradling the girl in her arms. The two couldn't be more than sixteen years old, and here they were fighting and dying for each other... Before the Nord girl passes away, she starts sobbing quietly, repeating "I'm sorry...!"

Aria holds the girl tightly as she slowly gives in to darkness, turning limp in her friend's arms. Just another comrade she can't save, no matter how hard she fights. The battle around the two finally ends in a decisive victory for the young Imperial Resistance scouting force. Everything is silent, save for Aria's crying...

"Sa... Sarja... Wake up! Damn it...!"

The Altmer's smug, cruel smile flashes once before her eyes, and then...

---

"LOREN-!..." Aria jolted, but calmed as she remembered what this was. Just another harsh reminder that she couldn't change the past or bring back anyone she loved. And a refresher.. of that face she wanted to drive a dagger into some day, even if she died doing it. She held her face in her hands for a moment, trying to regain her bearings. It was Sundas, early in the morning. The stray cat had already gone, and judging by the absolute silence of the shop, Cronic was out too. No knocks on the door, no requests... But damned if the previous day's work and Jarl Balgruuf's payment wouldn't keep Aria, Cronic and the curious stray fed for a while.

Aria stretched, let her chair rock forward as she groggily stood up to stretch some more. She hadn't bathed since the middle of the week, and her lightly padded outfit was getting dirty, no thanks to a horde of vampires and their thralls. The bloodstains were hard to remove! So the plan was to quickly throw some water on herself and go find Cronic in less gory attire.

An hour or later, give or take a few minutes, she'd show up at the Bannered Mare in a traditional Akaviri kimono, black with grey flower patterns and some simple socks and sandals. The red rose tucked into her hair added a little more feminine touch to the young lady that Whiterun knew as a keen sword fighter. Aria didn't look shaken - she was used to the nightmares by now. In fact, she looked cheerful. Taking a seat next to Cronic at the fire, she let out a relieved sigh and nudged him.

"I closed up for now, don't worry."

Cronic needed to quickly slap the sides of his skull, to check that he was still in reality, in that the finely dressed woman next to him known for being able to cut down just about anyone with a blade was still his boss. By this time, Cronic had already eaten. Once he'd sufficiently regained his composure, he began to speak.

"Been doing a little thinking. Based on yesterday's events coupled with one or two close calls, how much longer will our fortunes as a duo last, I wonder?" Cronic said, rubbing his chin in thought.

"To that end, I wager we ought to expand the ranks a little. An extra pair of hands never hurt anyone, afterall."