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Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

And I also posted :)

Also, Aeryn right now

Into The Dark: Tales of Maroleth

"I think water has more flavour than this..." Were the words that left her lips as she came back to Beren's side after her knife-throwing display. She nudged the glass of ale with her finger and watched as the amber liquid rocked inside the glass - the bubbly froth stirring at the surface. "I do not understand it sometimes..." She uttered with a laconic sigh, slumping back into her chair so that her chin just about touched her collarbones. She felt like a fish out of its bowl at that moment, feeling the eyes of Settionne on her. What was he thinking exactly? She didn't really care.

Aeryn's ears pricked at the sound of the music from outside, it was a screeching din to her ears, but the others seemed to enjoy it so she didn't say anything about it. They were each so chatty and jovial and so she thought it best to attempt to get on their level. They all seemed to be loosening up because of the ale and so she sat up once more, and squinted her eyes as if mentally preparing herself for a difficult task. She studied the glass ferociously before grabbing it in her hand, her other hand smacking against the table as if counting down.

Then it happened. She brought the glass to her lips with a sharp movement and began gulping down the contents of the glass quickly. Her nose wrinkled, and the smacking of her hand got quicker as more and more of the ale was consumed. There was also the slight dribbling, down each side of the glass at both corners of her mouth - but she persevered with it until it was gone. She brought the glass down with a thud, her entire face shuddered and she couldn't help but propel a loud "BLEHHH!" The Dorcha ran the back of her hand over her mouth and wiped the spilled ale from her lips and chin and she panted - catching back her breath.

She could feel it all sitting in her stomach, and with every subtle movement she made in her seat she could feel it slosh around. It was a strange feeling. She was perhaps too small and thin in frame to have downed an entire pint of ale like that, but all of a sudden she felt a lightness in her limbs and started giggling to herself and an almost obnoxious hiccup burst from within. It was a feeling on the fringes of unpleasant and enjoyable. "No more..." she slurred slightly, shoving the glass away once and for all.

As for Settionne's question, well, the Dorcha had no idea what she should do with herself now. She hadn't really had downtime like this for a very long time, she could barely remember what it felt like. She had been free once, but the memory of it was fleeting. "What do I like to do?" She asked aloud, it wasn't supposed to be said - and her expression was that of a curious woman, but her eyes were tinged with melancholy too - as if inside her mind she was desperately trying to find threads of her old life to help her decide.

Current Mood in One Gif

The Elder Scrolls: Fruits of Contention - Chapter 2 (Completed)

Afternoon, Last Seed 17
Used Sundries, Evermore

@Stormflyx and @Gcold

---

It was the early hours of the afternoon when a sophisticated looking woman stepped out into the streets of Evermore with a calm determination about her. This cool aura was of course just a mask for something far more sinister brewing inside. A lustful greed for one thing and one thing only. Something to hold and caress. Something to be a prize for her steel blue eyes. She bit down on her lower lip at the thought, steadying her trembling chin. She felt her heart race at the thought of it.

A golden tiara beset with 12 flawless diamonds of varying shapes and cuts. The Lover’s Knot.

With purposeful strides she made her way through the city, paying little attention to anyone else in her way. Her gloved hands rubbed together, golden bangles jangling with the motion, and she took in a deep breath, taking the air right to the depths of her lungs and exhaled with a sigh. Soon.

She wore an outfit which immediately informed that she was a woman of high status, with large pockets to match. A pair of cream silken trousers that contoured to the shape of her legs, clipping off just above her ankle - a gold trim piped across the seams that traced the curved outline of her hips and thighs. Today, a simple crisp white shirt would suffice, cinched at her waist with a delicate brown leather waspie that had the same gold thread embroidered around it’s edges. Lastly, a velveteen cape hung over her shoulders and tapered into a point over her rear, a jacquard embellishment was patterned into it’s centre. The colour was a burnt umber and it finished off the cosmopolitan, haute couture look that she wore so effortlessly.

She carried herself like a woman of status too, turning her nose up at some peasantly children who ran past her. She had little time for such distractions, but where she was headed, the scruffy looking children were just the beginning. “Used Sundries,” she said aloud, reading the name of the small looking building as if it were a question - intonation rising, as did an eyebrow in curiosity. She walked in anyway. It wasn’t the first time she’d enter a shithole to hire the services of questionable mercenaries to get what she wanted, and it most certainly wouldn’t be the last. This was, certainly not the worst shithole she’d been in recently. Although, the dust was a big problem.

She lifted her head to observe the whole of the room - ceiling and all. It was dark and smelt musty. She wanted to scowl at it, but it wasn't the time. There were some people sat around, and she didn't wish to appear so snobby so soon. Her heels clacked against the wooden floorboards, so many of them creaked under even her tiny weight. “Excuse me?” She called out in a soft and feminine voice, “mercenaries for hire, right?” As she waited in the doorway for a response, she half wondered if perhaps a shake of a bag of her coins would draw their attention from whatever activities they were occupied with.

Gustav was about to brief the company when he heard the telltale clickings of very delicate shoes and the voice of an even more delicate lady. This woman, looking like a misplaced doll, was not the only visitor here after he bought Used Sundries. There had been two this morning, and a couple more yesterday. Most of them were unhappy customers of the former owner, asking for refund on “unsatisfactory purchases”. Some of them had the idea that the new owners might be foolish enough to inherit old debts, while a few were busybodies checking out the latest business. Gustav told all of them to sod off; most did, and those that didn’t did when heavily armed “warehouse workers” showed up.

However, no one had openly pointed out Used Sundries as a mercenary hub. Sure, some were suspicious. But Gustav made sure members of the company kept their mouth shut. Even if someone, somehow, did know, it would take another brand of foolishness to openly walk in and announce their intention. Perhaps this woman was part of the city guard? No, she would have to be undercover to dress like that. The guards could just kick in the front door and bust the entire premise; Gustav had little clout here compared to Solitude or Jehanna.

So there Gustav was, not sure what to do with the visitor, as members of the company went about tasks that were definitely not fit for a tool store. Thankfully, he was dressed equally as slick as the woman, if not more so (and absolutely not wearing the appropriate outfit among cobwebs and dusty crates). Gustav was already trying on the formalwear for the banquet. He had on a green fine wool tunic, with a slant front opening and spice-colored swirls on the cuffs. It was fastened by a wide leather belt across his waist; the silvery buckle bare, for Gustav had no family sigil to imprint upon it. Finally, a pair of khaki pants, slightly flared at the thighs, tucked into leather boots that Dough-Boy spent hours polishing.

Still, the woman seemed to look down at him.

“Right, available for hi-” the answer slipped out of Gustav’s mouth without thinking. He quickly tensed up and shook his head. “No! I mean, we’re not mercen-”

“Ugh,” Gustav stopped himself and muttered under his breath, “stupid cat left the door unlocked again.”

“Alright, who are you?” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “And how did you even find us?”

Relyssa wasn’t one to mince around with her words, and yet when asked by the Nord in the store, she couldn’t resist but have a slight tug at his string. The woman held a pause as she looked him up and down from head to toe more than once, an eyebrow raising as her lips curled to an impressed smile. “Well, it seems rather odd for this old shop to be bought out so quickly like that - and all of a sudden there are men walking in and out - even past opening hours. A woman just puts two and two together…”

There was a playful twinkle in her steel blue eyes as they met Gustavs and she began to pace slowly around the room, dragging a finger across a dusty mantel as she walked, hips swaying. “All of the supposed hired help you have and yet nobody to clean… One would think a shop should be presentable?” The Breton once again turned her head to face the ‘Shopkeep’. “But of course, this is all just a presumption, and if you’re not… Available for hire, then I’ll be on my way...” She stood slightly slanted with one leg at an angle - the other straight, and she blew off the dust from her fingertip with a soft chuckle.

“Oh, and my name is Relyssa Deserine. How rude of me to not lead with that...” She brought a hand to her chest and moved towards Gustav once more, reaching out her other hand for him to shake. “I must say, you’re looking rather dashing in those clothes - if not out of place for an old shop like this. Going somewhere nice are you?”

“Very perceptive of you, Relyssa Deserine.” Gustav conceded. He shook Relyssa’s dainty hand, noticing the expensive looking silver ruby ring. This was no peasant, probably someone who had never done manual labor in her whole life. “And as someone so perceptive, you should know there’s a monumental event happening in town, a celebration, as many calls it.”

Holding Relyssa’s blue eyes in his own green eyes for a moment, Gustav traced the line of dust her finger traveled over. He cocked his head, mulling over what kind of opportunity Relyssa could bring them. “We are available, but there’s other obligations] we are contracted for.” A faint smile appeared on his face. “And you should know that we only provide, well, premium security services.”

“The name’s Gustav, Lady Deserine.” He introduced himself, and straightened his sleeves. At that moment, Alim Blackmoore, the Redguard rogue, walked by them in a servant’s uniform.

As Alim walked by, Relyssa broke her stare on the Nord gentleman and tracked his path, paying close attention to him with an eyebrow raised - interest piqued. She absent-mindedly responded to Gustav “yes a banquet at the castle - as a matter of fact that’s why I’m here - believe it or not.” Her eyes snapped away from Alim and back to Gustav and she smiled at him, returning her full attention to him.

“I believe we started at a bit of misunderstanding; our facility is not yet prepared for browsing.” Gustav gestured to the mess of a lobby around them. It was in poor shape, he admitted. He turned his gaze away from Relyssa (most notably her full coinpurse) and towards the door on the other side of the room. “Let’s discuss business further in my office, perhaps over a drink. That is, if you believe you can afford our expertise.”

With that, Gustav walked to his office, a room that had a polished oak desk, a set of cushioned chairs and several file cabinets. It was actually clean enough to be free from dirt and cobwebs. He took the map of Evermore Castle and a list of important guests off the desk, putting them in the closest cabinet. Then Gustav sat down on a chair behind the desk, waiting for Relyssa to come in, or leave.

As she followed him into his office, she felt more at ease in those surroundings and took her seat opposite to the gentleman, keeping an upright posture, knees together and her legs slanted to the side again. She stole a prying glance at whatever the documents were that he was folding away out of sight. If there was one thing that she knew, it’s that there was nothing in life that wasn’t important in some capacity. Those documents were important, whatever they were. She was thinking about just what they could be, when she caught the tail end of his comment - and just about scoffed at the suggestion she may not be able to afford the hired help, but it was best to hold the attitude for now. She still wanted to make a good impression.

“Well, Gustav - I imagine you’re quite perceptive yourself. This isn’t the first time I’ve… Outsourced work to companies such as yours. I’m quite aware of the price, believe me, what I’m looking for makes every coin spent on your premium security a coin well spent.” Her voice was soft and unthreatening, but there was an air of professionalism beneath it - and a tone that suggested this was but a game to her. She began to relax more into the chair, and brought one leg over the other. The Breton flashed a quick smile in Gustav’s direction. “You can name your price, and I will pay it. I just expect a job well done.” Relyssa placed an elbow on the arm of the chair, her foot swinging softly.

“Now then,” she began with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “about that drink…”

After Relyssa had seated, Gustav got up from his chair and closed the office door. When he sat back down, he leaned his elbows onto the desk, his fingers interlaced and chin rested on his hands. He carefully studied Relyssa, and found her making herself more comfortable than he’d like. He nodded when she mentioned the banquet; it was as expected. “Joyous occasion, the banquet, isn’t it? The defeat of Corsairs in Wayrest, being graced with the presence of heroes and monarchs, and simply the marvelous feast.” Gustav said plainly, not much excitement in his voice. After all, people didn’t just attend this kind of event for the fun of it. The guests on the list certainly didn’t.

“I understand a lady like yourself may wish for a bodyguard? I heard there are often, schemes, happening in Breton gatherings.” Gustav unlinked his hands and rested back on his chair. He looked up to the ceiling briefly, trying to avoid Relyssa’s eyes, which had no shortage of questionable motives. “We can assign one or two individuals per your request, nothing more. The rest of the company are needed elsewhere; we will be quite busy keeping the celebrations secure.”

Pulling his eyes back down from the ceiling, Gustav got up to search the cabinet he stuffed his documents in. “Let me get you a quote, and a good drink.” He offered. Sure enough, the contracts were exactly where he put them. On the other hand, the beverage tray only had two containers on it. One was a jug of water, the other was a thin bottle of medical ethanol Wylendriel had ordered. Gustav kept the ethanol label facing away from his guest.

“We have a variety of talents, but I recommend Alim Blackmoore, a cunning Redguard lad that you saw out there. He has an eye for danger, and other matters as well.” Gustav suggested as he placed the employment contract and a personnel roster in front of Relyssa. The drinks tray followed, with the two containers and two cups. “Now, would you like something mild or strong?”

If Gustav had chosen to look away from Relyssa, she did not look away from him - noting his brief refusal to meet her gaze. It prompted a slight half smile at the corners of her mouth. She had chosen to let him speak - truthfully she had little to say on the banquet and its guests. The fat, pampered nobles all in one room. How utterly delightful it would be to be in their company. “Heroes and monarchs indeed… I’m sure there will be many a toast to their splendorous achievements…” She began to trace the outline of her lips with her finger, watching Gustav’s every subtle move like a hawk. The bottle next to the water - she wondered if it was something important. She had seen enough medical vials to recognise it as such. Was Gustav ill? The situation was curious, and were she not in a hurry to close the contract she might have found a way to press against that nerve. But she had a job to do.

She did not move with haste to appraise the contract, and instead she flashed yet another smile at Gustav, prudently lifting it from the desk and unfolding the parchment with such a soft hand. It was expensive, and considerably more than she had been willing to budget for. Her head tilted slightly - she restrained herself from showing any other reaction to it. She examined it scrupulously for a few moments in silence, the fingers of her free hand drumming against the arm of the chair.

Finally, she released a long breath and folded the parchment once more, placing it in her lap. “I’ll take the strong drink.” In a manner which mirrored Gustav's, she placed an elbow on the arms of the chair either side of her, bringing her hands together as he had done. “At such a hefty price, Gustav, I will be expecting Alim to do a stellar job at… Protecting me.” After several blinks in quick succession, she narrowed her eyes, traces of her full smile had faded and her expression fell to something far more neutral and executive.

It was interesting that his entire company was set to attend, or was that an embellishment on his part? The detail of his colleagues keeping the celebrations secure had not slipped past her, and now was the time to pick at that. “Before we formalise anything, I must confess that my attendance at the banquet may directly contradict your assignment there… Keeping it,” she leaned forward, and lowered her voice as if to invite him to lean closer too, “secure, as you say.” Her hands separated and set down into her lap. “Not going to be a problem, is it?” She asked as a soft smile returned to her lips once more.

There was something alluring in the way Relyssa smiles, and something creepy. It was like she’s casting an illusion spell, except that she wasn’t, at least her hands weren’t glowing. Relyssa was probably sizing him up. Gustav shook his head lightly, trying to not let any hints spill from him. He sat straight as Relyssa studied the papers, his gaze darting between various items on the desk, and occasionally back to the guest herself.

“Strong drink it is.” Gustav answered. He poured a shot of ethanol into one cup, barely filling it up halfway, and probably not enough to poison the drinker. It’s not pure ethanol, and one may almost miss it if not sniffing carefully. Ashav once said a strong drink tested the customer’s conviction. Well, Gustav didn’t want to test Relyssa too much, so there’s still a customer left in the end. “Here you go, Lady Deserine.” He slid over the cup.

“Trust me, Alim is well worth the price.” Gustav returned one of Relyssa’s smiles with a cryptic one of his one. “While we went about our businesses, Alim studied the blade. Not only does he have the heart of a noble protector, he also likes to spoil his clients with little favors.”

“As for your attendance.” Gustav smirked, pouring himself some a cup of water and downing it in one gulp. “I trust a lady of your stature would wish no harm upon her peers. Even in the worst case scenario, gods forbid,” Gustav motioned for Relyssa to flip over the contract; just above the client signature space was a tiny line of fine print, “you’ll only need to provide additional monetary compensation, and we will take care of the rest.”

“If you don’t mind me asking.” Gustav shrugged, and silently pointed to Relyssa’s cup, urging her to drink it. “Is there anyone you wish to see at the banquet?”

She took the glass into her hand and allowed herself a small sip to taste first, it was definitely strong. That said, she had been expecting something other than this. Perhaps Gustav was keeping his nice whiskies elsewhere. Still, she nodded in appreciation of the refreshment, even if it was less refreshing and more dangerously flammable, both in alcoholic content and in the way it burned down her throat and brought sudden heat to her cheeks. She momentarily closed her eyes and politely cleared her throat before laughing softly. “Gustav, I’m impressed… But please don’t give up your day job to become a barkeep.” With that, she placed the glass back on the desk.

“You sure can stomach the colorful beverage, I’ll give you that.” Gustav laughed as well. He rubbed his hands together, looking quite impressed, both at how Relyssa drank it without questions, and managed to look somewhat composed afterwards. “And don’t worry, drinking the tough stuff is more of a process of discovery for us Nords.”

“Anyhow, back to the business at hand.” Gustav straightened himself.

“Little favours? My my that sounds intriguing. I only need him to follow my orders, no added extras are required and it would be preferable that way. That said, if he is as diligent as you say and can get me what I want then he can take as many liberties as he pleases.” Her eyes ran over the fine print on the back of the parchment. He was unequivocally a businessman through and through, but to Relyssa, that gave her a level of assurance and confidence that she wasn’t expecting. Not that she would let him know that. Her eyes flicked from the fine print, back to Gustav’s. “You’re really driving a hard bargain here, aren’t you?” She turned her mouth to a wry frown - but her eyes were tinged with mischief again.

“What can I say, Lady Deserine,” Gustav forwarded his quill and inkpot, letting them sit in the middle of the desk, “you and I know both know a successful operation requires every advantage possible.”

The woman lifted herself from her seat partially, to reach for the quill. With care she swirled its tip in the inkpot, letting any excess drip back down the glass edge and back into the pot. She held it in between the fingers of her left hand, once more reading over Gustav’s terms and conditions. She was backed into a corner - it was the day of the banquet and she needed help, she had no choice but to pay the premium price now.

The quill came down upon the parchment and she signed her name in full on the dotted line, finishing her signature with a delicate flourish. She pondered over his question, of course there would be many people at the banquet she would, in some capacity, know of - or have minor connections with. She didn’t think too highly of them. After placing the quill back into its inkpot she left the contract open on the desk to allow the ink to dry, as it did, she relaxed back into her seat with a gentle sigh. She peered over the desk at Gustav with a coy expression, before responding in as silken a tone as possible, “well Gustav, I do hope I’ll get to see you again.” It took every ounce of willpower not to grin smugly over at him, and she held a fixed gaze upon him with a suggestive intensity behind her eyes. After just a few silent seconds, she let go of the chain she had been playing with at last. “Really… It’s a banquet after all, I do hope to mingle and rub shoulders with everyone, that’s the point is it not?”

“Indeed it is.” Gustav agreed. He leaned forward and shook Relyssa’s hand to close out the deal. He locked glances with her for a second, feeling the satisfaction of finally working with someone of more subtlety than his company of brutes. “Pleasure doing business. Alim will be briefed over his task; you shall find him with other personal attendants.”

“And do share a dance with me, if you get the chance.” Gustav added. As he said that, his eyes followed the movement of Relyssa’s coin purse.

“Oh the pleasure will be all mine, I'm sure.” She replied as finally she stood up from the chair. She took her full coin purse and placed it down upon the desk, allowing the weight of it to hold down the signed contract.

The Elder Scrolls: Swords and Snobbery

As the Breton watched him in his cage, she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt over him getting so hurt. She could leave him in there as he suggested, but she was feeling impatient and slightly sorry for him too. He hadn't noticed the key dangling from her finger either - he was more hurt than he was letting on. So, with a soft sigh she clicked open the lock of his cage with the key, and with a gentle push it opened. "I think you're slightly concussed, Markus." She strolled into the cage and paced around him, eyes baring down upon him.

"You know, I may be able to... whip up a distraction of some kind." A twinkle of mischief fell on her eyes and her lips began to smirk. She brought herself down to her knees, bringing her face to face with Markus, she moved her fingers ever so, and they lit up with a warm golden light that she brought to his lips carefully, slowly tracing the outline of his mouth with the very tips of her fingers - her touch barely there and yet very present, enough to mend his open wound. She could sense from the way he was slouching that the beating had been hard on him.

With another motion of her hand, she brought it down slowly to his chest, her piercing gaze never faltering from his eyes. She placed her hand on his chest and released more of her magicka into him, finally she closed her eyes - as if to feel what was happening inside of him. "Mmmm, that feels painful, no wonder you're riled up. A little magic touch should have you feeling better..."

Feeling that she had done enough, and feeling that she had gotten close enough she quickly got herself back to her feet and scurried out of his cage before he had time to respond, abruptly closing the door behind her and sashaying back to her own cage, hiding the key inside of her shirt.

"So we wait til nightfall then..." She sighed, staring out of the slotted window and up to the sky.

What video game are you looking forward to in 2019?

I'm quite looking forward to Anthem and Kingdom Hearts III

What Are You Listening To?

That new Miley song;
open.spotify.com/track/27rdGxbavYJeBp…

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

Raelynn's Playlist

Raelynn Ambient Playlist

Simmering RaeGor

Salosoix Hawkford

Fjolte Dhjarikson's Dance Mix

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

The World Was Wide Enough

13th Midyear - Evening - Salosoix Residence

---

It had been around one hour since Salosoix Hawkford had arrived back at his temporary dwellings in the heart of Gilane, a piece of luxury sandwiched between a hookah den and a clothiers. It appeared smaller on the outside than it was inside. A purposeful choice. It would be easy to walk past the front door and not notice it at all. The perfect spot to conduct his affairs.

Inside was a simple tiled porch that led into an open office. Salosoix’s workspace. He liked to work near the entrance. It was his prying nature you see - a particular trait that he had nurtured through his life.

He would never share it with anyone outside of his family, but Salosoix Hawkford was orphaned at 11 after the death of his mother to a common illness. There had been a terrible storm and she took ill and simply never recovered. It was believed that Senisande Hawkford suffered from a broken heart after her husband deserted her and left her with their only son, Salosoix. She simply never had as much love for life after he had left. After her death, Salosoix was left as her orphan. Penniless, homeless, and without family.

Many would have given up after having been dealt such a hand of cards - but not Salosoix. A diamond in the rough, he had an unimpeachable power of speech and a hunger for more, to rise above his situation. To fan the spark into a flame and overcome his bad fortune. So he worked. By 14, the prodigious young Breton was already a squire for a noble merchant of Wayrest - attending to his needs, working to procure items and sell them on. He used this time to learn and absorb everything around him - and so his influence only continued to grow until he found himself practically running the business for the merchant. He had the gift of a silver tongue - and ambition far beyond that of the pampered Master he served…

Nobody ever did question exactly what happened to Salosoix’s Master, and nobody ever did question why and how Salosoix absorbed the business and carried it on after his Master’s untimely disappearance.

Opportunity had simply knocked.

It was a business he had continued to pursue throughout his entire life - a business that brought him to Gilane just as the world was about to tilt and change. “Fortune favours the brave…” he mused, as he often did. His eyes falling onto the flames of his hearthfire. It seemed like only days ago that he had arrived here - only expecting to close a deal on some tapestries. Yet, here he was still. Feeding into the hands of the Dwemer Governor, Rourken with the opportunity to turn the tables on an old rival, The Poncy Man and… absorb his prosperous guild. A smirk grew over his thin lips as he sipped from his glass. Tonight it was a red wine. He ran his fingers over the mahogany of his desk, thinking back on the memories of his life. He had achieved so much, made a name for himself, and found himself with a fortune that even as an orphan with big dreams he would not have been able to imagine.

And yet.

He had a fortune, he had a good home, a flourishing business, he had respect and enough power to keep him safe and allow him to play a game of chess that for anyone else would simply be too much of a risk. And yet it wasn’t what he cared the most about. It was when he walked through the front door of his rented residence to see the black cloak and clothing of a dangerous heathen that his heartstrings were plucked at, a knot grew in his stomach, and a burning anger rose behind his eyes. He had been in Hegathe with his appointed bodyguard doing some important negotiations. To return to his home to find that Gregor Sibassius’s scourge had spread back to his daughter’s heart had set a fire in his chest he didn’t know existed. It was a flame of indignation at such misfortune that hadn’t been ignited since he had found himself at rock bottom at 11 years old.

He peered across from the flames, over the rims of his glasses to his daughter who was sat before him. Her face aglow with heat from the fireplace. He took another sip, and his lips curled at her. They both held onto the stubborn silence for a few moments longer.

“So Raelynn, is this just defiance? Rebellion? For I don’t understand it.” His voice and stare were so intense that even Raelynn fell sheepish under it. “Papa please, you don’t understand,” was the small response that she offered him. It wasn’t enough. “So make me understand. He threatened me with dark magic. He’s a necromancer? Correct? I’m going to say it’s a damned safe assumption to make that he was the reason that the Dwemer Administrator perished. The reason as to why your once beautiful hands were mangled.” While there was anger and vitriol in his tone, his manner was calm and cold. It was a complete dichotomy of behaviour - but this was how Salosoix was. He would never let his emotions boil over. He knew that his daughter was far more likely to crack under the pressure of his terrifyingly austere approach.

“The only reason why I am not dragging you back to Daggerfall with me, is because I am a man of principle and I will not lay a hand on you,” he said as he placed the wine glass onto the desk, the crystal caught the light and began to glow and twinkle like a ruby. “There is more to him than that." She did not confirm or deny the accusation. "He has his reasons, and he is a good man. He has kept me safe, and I… I love him.” She was her father’s daughter - she wouldn’t back down to him over this, and she mimicked Salosoix’s manner and adopted it as her own, showing her indifference at his anger in a complete lack of expression on her face. “What you have with him is not love, it’s self-loathing… It’s a wildfire that will burn out of control and consume you, Raelynn. I thought I raised you better than this. Or, perhaps I am wrong and you are right - this necromancer will be your Knight. But it will be the first time I have ever heard of such a thing.”

“Don’t you dare mock me,” she snapped back. While Salosoix could stay ice cold - Raelynn had the fiery temperament of her mother in her blood too and she could not resist biting - he knew that she would react and he was already prepared for it. “You make a mockery of yourself by parading around with him. You make a mockery of our name - of my name and I will not allow it any longer. You are complicit in his criminal degeneracy, and that in turn makes you a filthy little degenerate-” He stopped himself from saying the rest of it aloud. He wanted to call her a whore, but even with his anger as hot as it was, he couldn’t spray such a word in her direction. Even thinking it made him feel bad enough.

“Like father like daughter then, aren’t I?” Raelynn’s temper subsided as she realised what her father was doing - baiting her into an emotional outburst. “I wonder, Papa, are your hands clean? For mine may be mangled but yours are covered in blood and there is dirt under your nails from everything you’ve buried…” Her eyes narrowed and Salosoix’s jaw clenched, a vein protruding from his neck as the rage bubbled beneath his skin. They could go back and forth like this all night if they really wanted to, and it seemed that tonight - yes, maybe they wanted to. Salosoix could see this would go in circles.

“You just haven’t got the courage to do things yourself. Tell me, how many men has Zhaib killed for you here? You even had Gregor and Jaraleet slaughter members of the insurgency, did you not? Don’t you dare sit over there in your false throne and call me a degenerate without first looking in the mirror.” The young Breton swallowed and her body tensed as she waited for her father’s response. She knew that those words were the weights that would tip the scale and be the push to drive Salosoix over the edge. Surprisingly, he remained as forbidding as he had been, his fingers merely tightened around the stem of the glass and he drew one long breath.

“Hold your tongue and remember where you are, don’t be so fucking impudent and know your place. You will say no more about my activities here.” He snarled as he ran his hand through his hair from root to tip. “Everything I do has a reason - is there a reason for your behaviour outside of lust and self-hatred?” Salosoix needed Raelynn to understand who was in charge here, and yet it was senseless to make this a battle between the two of them. He had to let it go in order to drive the conversation where he needed it to go.

“I’m leaving for Daggerfall in the morning.” He said dryly, giving her no time to retort, despite his observation of her cheeks growing red and fingers clasping at the desk. He lifted the glass once more to meet his scowl. Neither of them spoke as he took a sip from his glass. His fingers relaxing from their grip. “I will ask you only once to come back with me. Your efforts here have been impressive, and this work will be good for you to recuperate. Raelynn, I would like for you to come home.” His eyes met hers - their colour and intensity the same. There was little expression behind them, but there had been a softened tone on his tongue.

He already what her answer would be.

“You are your own woman, and I have raised you to be nothing else. Your sharp mind and incredible intellect has always impressed me…” His posture softened into the chair as he began to speak but he could not look at her. “Your mother and I always wanted the best for you. We raised you to have ambition of your own, your own goals and dreams for your life. You are especially gifted with the arcane arts - something that, your mother and I were never interested in. You found that on your own. To be a healer is no simple feat and you never receive enough credit for that… Not even from us.”

His daughter was right and they both knew it. It was the elephant in the room. His hands were dirty and he was a dishonourable man. A smiling assassin without the nerve to draw a weapon of his own. Once again, memories ran through his mind. Every negotiation, every coin carefully placed into the hands of someone willing to get things done. Once more he turned his head to look his only daughter in the eye. “I’m proud of you, Raelynn.” Before she had a chance to interject, Salosoix’s hand reached out over the desk to grab at hers, “I watched you disappear in front of me. I let it happen. It was my fault, I had a chance to save you, and I chose this… over you.” His free hand motioned around the room, and his eyes darted to all the corners, to every shining jewel and treasure that was littered around his office. “All in the name of what? Power?” He sighed, and squeezed at Raelynn’s hand. His thumb running over the back of it. Just as he had done the first night he had been reunited with here again. “I was terrified that I was about to lose my stance here. What I had been doing, building... But you see, the only thing that has ever mattered to me at all... I had given away.”

All she could do was listen, never had she seen her father relent so easily - and it was because of that, that part of her did wonder if this was still part of his game. But as tears formed against his eyes, she knew he was being sincere. “Papa, I’m sorry…” She sighed, placing her other hand on top of his, letting him have his moment of quiet. “I know why you did it, I understand.” Had she felt more like fighting then she would not have absolved him of it so quickly - but there was something sad about seeing him appear so defeated.

“I don’t want to lose you, Raelynn. I can’t force you back with me. If I do that you’ll wither - I’ve… Seen it before, I can’t do that to you.” He thought of his own mother, the way that her very essence floated away from her the same day that his father walked away. “I saw you like that only nights ago. I don’t trust him, I don’t like him, but… You’re right, he will keep you safe. I saw it in his eyes that night he threatened me.” Raelynn dropped her gaze to the floor in shame. Perhaps she still needed to speak to Gregor about that - was it his temper? Was it something else? “He told me about it, he was just so fraught, Papa. He didn’t think. He wouldn’t do it again, and you know, he listens to me - he does. I’m helping him be better, to stop being so… Much like that.” She felt ashamed to lie in front of her father - knowing that there had been times she would use her own wiles to rouse Gregor’s temper as and when she pleased...

Salosoix shook his head at his daughter’s naivety when she wasn’t looking. Did she actually believe that she would be able to change Gregor? Did she want to? He could feel a distance between them and it hurt him to admit it to himself. “I am frightened by what I saw. He has an unhealthy hunger for you, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.” He shook off the feeling of dread that fell over him, the room growing ever darker now as his fire died down to embers. “Look at me.” He demanded, straightening himself up against the sharp back of his chair. Raelynn did as he asked and lifted her head back to meet his eyes, “do not let what he wants and desires eclipse what you need, my Sun.” Raelynn nodded, grabbing at his hands.

“And you are right…” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose - unsure of whether or not to delve deep into his closet. “I have danced with several demons in my life Raelynn… You know that I built up our reputation from nothing, I did not do it alone… What I have learned is there is always a price. Balance always has to be restored in some way. I am frightened that you being in his shadow leaves you compromised, regardless of what you think - you are a woman who should stand in the light.” He let go of her hands, and got up from his seat - there was a tension in his body that was apparent in the way he walked. He was not satisfied with the outcome of their conversation. Salosoix was not a man who would compromise, but tonight he had been forced to. “What are you talking about, Papa?” She asked, feeling as though her father’s poetic riddles were about to give her a headache. “Demons? Balance? How much wine have you had?” She stood from her own chair and shadowed him across the room gingerly.

“You’ll find out one day. For now, I have something for you.” The elder Breton reached into a cabinet and pulled out a small, rectangular box, and a musty looking old book. “You’ll remember that every time I took a trip… I always returned with a gift, do you not?” As he had done already, he steered the conversation again, poking at the sentimental and greedy part of his daughter who’s interest would be well and truly piqued at the word ‘gift’. He looked over his shoulder as she came to join him at his side, a smile finally curling over his lips, but his eyes betrayed any happiness he was trying to have her see. “I do remember. That’s why I liked you returning so much, you’d always bring me and mother something special…”

Raelynn hooked her arm around his and stood at his side with her head on his shoulder. She vaguely recalled doing the same thing as a child, except she would climb up onto his lap as he sat in his favourite armchair in their library, pulling gifts from bags like a street performer might pull out colourful ribbons to amaze his crowd. The smell of their home hit her. It would always smell like polished wood, books, and of the wild lavender that grew in bunches around the home. She chuckled under her breath and squeezed at Salosoix’s arm tighter - all the animosity from the atmosphere dissipating as her eyes fell over the ornate looking box sat on the cabinet. “What is it?” She asked, biting her lip - her eyes glowing with the anticipation.

“It’s a sword.” He said, matter of factly - popping open the box to reveal a stunning blade inside. Only just longer than a dagger, but the hilt and pommel looked almost to be made of porcelain or glass they were so smooth and shiny, with ripples of burgundy and obsidian beset through it. The blade thin, and subtly curved towards its end. Raelynn gasped at it. It was the most beautiful sword she’d ever seen. Around the pommel there was a woven tassel in scarlet thread with jade beading holding it in place. “It’s a sword perfect for someone like you. Small enough to conceal, sharp enough to kill.” It hurt him to think of his daughter using such a weapon, but he already knew that she had found his scroll and put it to use. He shook off the thought of his darling daughter slicing through flesh. “You’ve had… A difficult time here. I want you to take this sword - you are capable of many things, yes, but in a scrape - this blade here might deter the wrong sort from laying hands on you.” He met Raelynn’s eyes again, and saw that they were too busy staring down at the expensive gift. For a moment, he saw his innocent child once more and it brought him a small feeling of comfort. “I wonder if… Well, Gregor might help you to learn to use it…” His levity did not last long, and his jaw clenched to have even suggested such a thing, but Raelynn needed to believe that he was coming around to it.

“Thank you…” She said with a dreamy sigh, running her fingers over the handle. “The book?” She asked, turning up to look at her father, leaning further into him as she waited for his explanation.

“In a moment, I’ll tell you about it. I’m leaving tomorrow Raelynn.” The Breton plucked up the book and gestured back to his desk where he headed - back to his chair, an air of severity following him. He waited for Raelynn to get comfortable again. “I’ve been poisoned by my political pursuits here, you’ve been through so much, we need a break. We need time to mend. Will you return to Daggerfall with me, all things considered?” It was his last desperate plea for his daughter to come back with him. To get away from Gregor, and he already knew she was turning it down, but she had to feel empowered that it was her decision, or else he would only push her away and tug at defiant rebellion that he had been trying to quell. “All things considered, Papa… I have to stay with my,” she thought on it, were they really her friends? Companions? “I have to stay with the group. I owe it to them, and they actually need me.”

It surprised him. He had expected her to tell him she was staying with Gregor, but she was choosing to travel with the rest of the insurgents? It filled him with hope that they would keep her from being buried beneath the plague that was Gregor. “I see…” Unsure of whether the disappointment in his voice was real or feigned, Raelynn placed her hands back onto her father’s, offering him a small smile. “They need me, Papa. I am doing good work.”

The Hawkford patriarch placed the tome onto the desk between them, he could not change her mind. She was as stubborn as he was, (if not more so) he had to let her have this minor victory over him. “Well my Sun. When you are going to continue travelling further into darkness - you should remember to take a light, so that you never get lost in there...” After he spoke, he blew free the dust from it’s cover. Revealing it to be a Spell Tome of Expert Restoration. Raelynn’s eyes once again widened, and a smile crept over her lips - tears forming in her eyes. Her father had accepted her decision, and not only had he accepted it - he had provided her with resources to help her. She could only mouth the words to him, but he felt them.

After that, the two of them shared the last of the wine and talked for a while longer. There was so much left unsaid, but still so much mended - for now. Until they next were to meet there would still be issues left unresolved but this was the point at which they settled the differences. All that they could do now was enjoy each others company for an evening more.

Tomorrow, everything would change.

The Elder Scrolls: Vengeance of the Deep

Solve et Coagula

featuring @Father Hank

13th Midyear - Gilane - Hawkford Residence
Afternoon

---

It was mid-afternoon by the time that Raelynn was making her way back to her father's residence. The sun was no longer at its highest in the sky, and so the air was a little cooler and more bearable. She had spent quite a bit too much time sat at the fountain reading things she really shouldn't have been, and yet there were no regrets. She was now lugging the bag containing Daro'Vasora's belongings along the floor. It was a heavy thing to carry, and she half hated the fact she'd taken on the responsibility.

She had also taken it upon herself to grab more from the markets, and so her hands were absolutely full. To top it all off, there was a wonderful bloodstain on her thigh from Jaraleet's latest injury. She had to use her elbow to open the front door. It was completely ungainly and unlike her, she turned around, pressing her rear against the door to swing it open. As she staggered through, she finally caught sight of the bloodstain on her trousers in the mirror. Her lovely cream and gold silk trousers. Her lovely, expensive cream and gold silk trousers. “Oh God's above!” she cursed, exasperated. The very motion of it caused the bag containing the Khajiit’s wares to hit the floor and a journal bounced out. “Oh God's above again!” she cried out once more, looking at the mess. “Rhoka! Lend me your hands!” There was stress in her voice all of a sudden, too much time under the sun surrounded by people had irritated her. Once Rhoka had shuffled through and cleared everything from her, she felt lighter - and instantly better. If it weren't for the damned stain, she might have smiled. “That reckless oaf…” she muttered as she ran a finger over it. It was dry now and had made the material feel almost crispy, she frowned and made her way from the hallway towards the back room. Wondering whether or not Gregor had returned.

He had finished running his errands significantly sooner and returned a few hours before Raelynn did. The sound of her exasperated voice drew him from the back room, where he had made himself comfortable, to the hallway and Gregor opened the door to find himself immediately face-to-face with Raelynn, who looked like she had been about to open the very same door herself.

“Hello you,” the Imperial said and smiled as he looked down on his beloved. “I heard your voice. Are you alright?”

The sight of Gregor immediately washed away any feelings of annoyance she had been holding onto, finally the smile came. “Oh I'm fine… I just had a busy morning. Goodness, I just about forgot how it can be to have things to do. I seemed to see just about everyone too,” she exaggerated with a sigh. With her hands now free, she placed them against Gregor's and wrapped her fingers up in his. “You look nice, haircut or something?” She narrowed her eyes and one of her eyebrows shot up quizzically as she tried to work it out, his hair did look good - the way it only does after a refreshing treatment. That, and it did look different to when she had left him that morning.

Gregor hummed in his chest and kissed her, a gentle gesture meant to help her relax after the trials and tribulations of her day, whatever they may have been. “Sharp eyes,” he said afterwards and led Raelynn into the back room. “I got my black clothes back and had my weapons sharpened. Taking care of my appearance at the same time just felt expedient. Did you do anything interesting?”

As she paced through the room she rolled her shoulders back and yawned softly, taking a seat on one of the couches. “Well,” she began as she leaned forward to undo the straps of her sandals. Entirely impractical for walking through Gilane all day and so she kicked them off, “I ran into Latro, he sends his well wishes. He was with somebody.” She tensed up to think about him again, it was unnerving how even now the shadow of their meeting lingered on her, even if he had been courteous. “Something isn't right there, I don't know what it is. He wouldn't even look me in the eye…” She moved her head from side to side and stretched out her arms as far as she could, feeling her muscles pull as she did so. She was still somewhat sore from the previous evening.

“I got to the Hotel and collected my things, Daro'Vasora's things too… Met the new Redguard girl and we spoke for a while, and then I found Jaraleet in a crumpled heap with a new set of injuries. You know, just a regular day for me with that one around…”

“Sevari,” Gregor said knowingly. “I met him too. He told me he was sorry for what Zaveed did to you. The way you describe him makes it sound like he means it and can’t look you in the eye because he feels guilty.” He had sat down next to Raelynn and assumed a relaxed posture, one leg laid across his knee. He was barefoot and his belongings were scattered throughout the room. There was a quiet energy to him, despite his apparent tranquility, and he looked at Raelynn intently.

He knew that there was more to be said about her day, if he asked, but Gregor was too eager to discuss the very thing that reinvigorated him -- gave him purpose. “Raelynn,” he began and shifted in his seat. “I have a plan. After I found you in the warehouse, you made me promise two things. I haven’t forgotten about the second promise. I think an opportunity will present itself very soon to fulfil it. The others will attack the Governor’s palace tomorrow in an attempt to free Daro’Vasora. They have a good strategy; it involves a three-pronged attack on the east and west flanks of the palace itself and a depot somewhere in the city. The Dwemer will be divided, scattered.”

Leaning forward towards Raelynn, he continued. “That leaves someone vulnerable. Someone important. Someone dangerous. You know of whom I speak, right?”

She had been stretching while Gregor was talking. Her eyes off watching something, or nothing. It was when he asked her a question that her face turned to him sharply, her eyes locked on to his, “Governor Razlinc Rourken…” she whispered softly, her heart began to race in her chest. To see the Governor suffer had been her only desire days ago, but now so much had changed.

She could sense how excited he was, there was a glow about him and a light behind his eyes. She hated to be the one to bring reality in to play, but that was her role now. “Gregor, you're still injured… Are you sure about this? Something tells me you only get one chance…” There was nothing dismissive in her tone, but she needed to know he was serious. They would not survive another incident like that last battle he had found himself in.

“And that chance is now,” Gregor said. He spoke quickly and animatedly, using his hands to gesture while he talked. “Latro said they want to leave Gilane, that there is nothing for them here, and I think he’s right. After Daro’Vasora is rescued, we have to get out of here. All of us. Rourken presented herself as being affable and graceful but we have seen how her administration behaves, the people it employs… she will be vengeful. My injuries are not so bad. The ointment that you made really helped. I could walk around the city with no problem. And have you already forgotten last night?” He smirked, bringing a boyish charm to his eyes. “My strength is back. You know that. You felt it. And the trembling, well... it goes away when I’m stressed. I think it’s partly in my head and not just my nerves or my muscles.”

He paused to take a breath. “And I have you. I’ve told you my plans now. I won’t keep things from you again; that was a mistake. With your help and with the situation as advantageous as it’s going to get, being able to plan this ahead of time, I’m confident we have a shot. For your sake… and mine.”

Gregor’s expression changed and his eyes hardened. “I must have her.”

She watched his hands dancing around as he spoke and she took them gently into her own, bringing them together slowly as she looked into his eyes. He was getting ahead of himself. “Gregor,” she said slowly, running her lower lip through her teeth anxiously. “Slow down.” She ran her hand over his chest, to his heart. She could feel it beating, racing, as was hers. “I want her dead as much as you,” Raelynn lifted the hand that she was holding to her lips, and tenderly kissed his knuckles, before bringing it down to her lap. He didn't know.

She took in a deep breath, weighing up whether to tell him - and how, but it was his own words that reminded her that she must. We don't keep things from each other. She repeated in her head. “I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this, I know that, nor would I want to… But if we're going to do this, there's something you must know.” As she spoke, she squeezed his hand in her own. “Gregor, last night you asked me if there was something on my mind, do you remember?”

That was enough to give him pause. An vague and undefinable sense of fear settled on the edge of his mind, like snowfall, and his look of excitement turned to concern. “Yes, I remember,” he said. “What’s the matter?” His hands, which had been limp in her lap, now grabbed Raelynn’s tightly.

There would be no need to embellish her story, tell him her theories. There would only be the simple truth of it. “Ever since that night, I…” She squeezed his hand back, taking in another breath. “I have not been able to use any magicka, no restoration… No conjuring. I've tried, but it's as if it's completely gone.” She placed a hand on his cheek, her eyes staring into his, they were darker than ebony and as beautiful as always, there was a comfort in them for her. “I'm at a disadvantage.” As she spoke, she realised that she wasn't telling him no, and that they should not do it. Whatever her situation was, the level of reassurance that lay in his eyes gave her the strength to not let it stop them.

“I have been reading, there are… ways I can help, but Gregor, without my real skills, this will be far more difficult for you.”

That was a blow, and not just to their plan. Gregor's disability had been visible and obvious and he'd had no idea that that fateful night had damaged Raelynn too. “Mara's mercy, Raelynn,” Gregor said and he felt genuine sorrow for the loss of her magicka. He couldn't imagine having to make do without. “I'm… so sorry. Do you have any idea how to get it back? For such a talented mage to lose their powers… I've never heard of that.” He sighed and took her in his arms, resting his chin on her head. “I had no idea. You've been so strong.”

She closed her eyes as he took her into his arms. She couldn't tell him that this was her punishment. To hear those words would crush him. “At first I thought it was exhaustion, I've had it before. It happened after Calen even. I don't know how conscious you were… But that night I used so much. It wasn't just coming from my hands. It was everywhere… I've never known or experienced it.” She came out from under him, her hands either side of his face. She felt sick, vulnerable. Now that she had told Gregor it became more real than before. In those milliseconds, everything that had happened in Gilane flashed through her mind.

“You know what? I'm done Gregor…” Raelynn shook her head, strands of hair falling loose from within a single clip that was holding it all atop her head in a pile.

A seriousness came over her. Now wasn't the time to think about what she didn't have, what they had lost. It was time to plan. She swallowed back the feelings of fear over it. “I am beyond done with this place. Whatever should happen, this ends tomorrow. She has tried to devour you and I… ” She pressed her forehead to his and kissed the tip of his nose gently - affectionately, before coming back to his eyes again. “Well tomorrow… Rourken is going to choke on us.”

---

14th Midyear - early morning

Raelynn had woken first, the breaking of dawn had stirred her and it was the first golden rays through the window that brought her round from her sleep. She hadn’t slept too well. Creeping anxiety and excitement for the day had kept her awake for most of the night. Gregor was still sleeping. He always looked so peaceful when he was deep in sleep like that. She had found herself pressed against him when she woke up, as if he had pulled her close to him in his own slumber. A powerful arm was wrapped around her waist and he was shirtless, relaxed. Raelynn knew that this would be the last morning they would have like this for a while, and so she allowed herself just a few more minutes to enjoy it as the sun came up.

The Breton quietly hummed a bard’s song and stroked her fingers up and down Gregor’s arm, she could feel the rise and fall of his chest, and feel his soft breaths against the back of her neck. That was enough. She got up from the bed, tucking her covers back down with great care so as not to disturb Gregor any more than she already had. She slipped out of the bedroom barefoot in nothing but a simple robe, she yawned against the back of her hand, feeling the release of tension immediately as she did so. Rhoka was already awake, she could hear the sound of things being cleaned somewhere, Zhaib was in the courtyard sharpening his swords and daggers for the mission later. Her father was likely still asleep.

As she entered the backroom, she plucked up a book that she had left on a sidetable with the page she required folded down on itself. The recipe and instruction for a conjuration potion. There was no time to waste, she had lots to do and only so much time, and so she got to work.

Meanwhile, Gregor slept like the dead. He did not wake up until the sun had already achieved significant progress in its daily ascent of the sky and even after his consciousness returned to him, he spent longer lounging about in bed than was strictly necessary. That said, he would need his strength tonight and being as well-rested as possible would serve him well. After he finally got dressed and made his way downstairs, Gregor peeked his head around the corner of the entrance to the opulent back room and saw that Raelynn was hard at work. He smiled at the sight and lingered where he was for a few seconds without saying anything before he collected his weapons and made his way outside, to the yard at the back of the house. He did not want to disturb her concentration and his time was better spent making sure that his body was in good condition.

Exercises, taught to him a distant past by his father, served to limber up Gregor's muscles and release the stiffness that had crept up on him through days of inaction and recovery. He remained in the shadow of the house, avoiding direct sunlight, and made sure to drink copious amounts of water in-between bouts of his strict and intense training regime. The yard had been neatly swept and smoothed over before Gregor began and by the time he was halfway through, he had kicked up so much dust and disturbed the sand so significantly that the yard looked like the site of a street fight. He was breathing heavily and sweating like a boy on his first ever date, but his body felt better than it had in over a week, and while his limbs burned and his core ached, it was satisfying and healthy and Gregor allowed himself a grin as he swung his claymore with such force that it buried itself in the ground and remained upright. Looking up at the cloudless sky informed him that it was far past midday and he figured that a lunch break was in order.

Having freshened up and toweled himself down before returning to the back room, Gregor knocked politely on the open door to make his presence known. “How goes the work?” he asked.

She had been so intense in her concentration that she had not heard Gregor get up, practice and ready himself outside, or even speak to her. Her hair was disheveled and there was a layer of sweat across her brow. She was looking down into a bowl with a heavy stare and her lips were pouting out at it. She ran the edge of a copper spoon around the rim, examining the contents rigorously. It was good enough, and so she began to decant it into a glass vial before corking it.

Finally she turned around to the doorway, and was so caught off guard by Gregor that she jumped. “Gregor… You're awake!” She blinked, having finally come up for air she looked to the skylight to see where the sun was, to get some idea of the time. “I… completely lost track of time, but I'm done.” Raelynn picked up a handkerchief from her desk and dabbed at her brow with it, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her eyes widened in horror - she had still not fully dressed. “It must be about past noon by now, how are you feeling?” As she spoke, she ran her hands over the robe as if to smooth it down and appear more presentable, and less like she had spent the entirety of the day so far buried in books and potion-making.

“I feel good, I've been up for hours,” Gregor replied and laughed at the state of her. “Didn't want to disturb your concentration so I went out to the yard and went through my exercises. I feel ready.”

He walked over to the table where Raelynn was working and looked into the bowl. It didn't look like anything to him, but Gregor had never been an alchemist. The rest of the table was filled with books, potion bottles and assorted scrolls and Gregor raised his eyebrows, impressed with Raelynn's productivity. “What have you made?”

Gregor's laughter caused her face to flush red, and it took some restraint not to scowl at him. She settled for running her fingers through her hair while she waited for the heat in her cheeks to subside.

She ran her eyes over the table, it was messy and chaotic to look at. Chaurus Eggs sat in the middle surrounded by moth and butterfly wings, mountain flowers, clusters, bone meal and ashes. “Regulars… Potions of health, stamina, magicka…” She indicated to them in a neat line arranged by their respective colours. “This one is special though,” she picked up a vial filled with a bluish purple liquid contained inside. “This is for your conjuration… You know,” she gave him a knowing glance, “it's incredibly potent… I made sure of that, it took me a long time to create this one.” She smiled at the bottle, proud of herself. “You're going to enjoy the effects of it,” her eyes glimmered with something sinister only briefly, before she placed the bottle back down on the table.

Now that was interesting. Gregor had been in dubio whether or not it was wise to use his necromancy during the upcoming attempt on Rourken’s life but it seemed Raelynn had made that decision for him. It made sense; going after the Governor was a huge risk in and of itself and it wasn’t worth the loss of power to keep his true identity hidden from the Dwemer any longer. And there was a large chance that Zaveed had informed his superiors of Gregor’s abilities already, which meant that the secret was probably out either way.

He looked at Raelynn with a newfound sense of… what, exactly? Gregor had already respected and admired her skills as a healer and the stunt with the Chain Lightning scroll in the warehouse had shown her resourcefulness and the strength of her will. And yet, seeing her devote herself to these preparations with such vigor and cunning raised his esteem of her even more. A smile broke out on his face and he took her hands in his own. “Thank you,” he said softly and planted a tender kiss on her forehead. More did not need to be said.

She felt different, and couldn’t quite place the feeling, but as her eyes fell upon the fruits of her craft, she felt that their plan - that what they had discussed, would work. “One more thing,” she said, taking her hands back to reach for the last potion. It was in a black vial - the colour of the liquid inside remained unknown. It had been an aesthetic choice to store it in such a macabre looking bottle. “You need to get in - far enough in, while remaining undetected. I think you appreciate panache, so this will get you where you need to go as long as you are quick. Invisibility.” She turned to look at him, the potion in her hands, her eyes locked onto his. Her stare was serious and voice commanding, “this will get you in undetected but only by sight, so remember to step softly.”

If she had used this tone of voice with him at any other time Gregor would made a joke about it, but this was serious business and he merely nodded to show that he understood. It was brilliant -- the cacophony of the party’s rescue attempt would mask his footsteps unless he walked right by one of the guards and their numbers would be thinned out by their inevitable reaction to the other intruders. Using invisibility to hide himself from the line of sight of the few guards that might remain at their posts meant that he could be amongst them, coiled and ready to strike, without them having even the slightest clue.

It was going to work. Gregor knew it. “I had no idea you were this accomplished of an alchemist,” he admitted. The same sinister sparkle that had alighted Raelynn’s eyes now appeared in Gregor’s and he cupped her cheek with his hand, running his thumb along her soft skin. “You are full of surprises.”

“I've studied it for a long time. Never had cause to really use it, magicka was always enough.” She placed her hand on top of his, “if all goes to plan - we get Daro'Vasora back, we get the group back… And you get the soul of a powerful Dwemer Governess to sacrifice to the Cairn.” It seemed to her, really, that Gregor was about to gain a lot - everyone was set to gain something. She thought of Shakti and Zhaib fighting for Hammerfell, Latro fighting to free his love. “It's all or nothing Gregor. So I'll give you my all.”

Raelynn was right. It seemed like everything was coming to a head tomorrow, for everyone. Gregor hadn’t given Daro’Vasora or the rest of the party much thought. He was so wrapped up in his own goals that it was almost a surprise for him to hear Raelynn mention them like this. “Once again, thank you. I cannot properly express how good it feels and how grateful I am to have your support.” Gregor smiled sheepishly and cleared his throat before changing the topic. They had been quite sappy enough already. “Do you look forward to seeing the others again?”

She thought about it, it had felt like a long time since they had all been together for longer than a night. After today they would once again be travelling together - most likely by foot again. It had made her positively miserable last time. “They are each in their own way entirely obnoxious, and every single one of them annoys me for one reason or another…” Her words were callous, but the smile that danced over her lips betrayed them wholly. “Absolutely not,” she finished with a half-smile.

That made him laugh. That was good; he could use some levity to manage the tension he felt, wrapped around his guts like a constrictor snake, not quite squeezing, but definitely there. “I should have known. In all honesty, I’ve been rather preoccupied and haven’t thought about it much but now that I have, I feel bad that my last words with Daro’Vasora were of a disagreeable nature. We weren’t exactly arguing, but it was close.” He looked away for a second, thinking, and ran a hand through his beard. “I wonder if she is more inclined to agree with me now, about the nature of the Dwemer as an enemy, after everything she’s been through.”

“My last words to her were…” she sighed, and placed a hand on her heart, turning back to the table to start clearing the ingredients away one by one. “I wonder if she knows I'm alive. I wonder how much she has been allowed to know, if anything.” She took a cloth and ran it across the surface of the table, wiping away the residue left behind. “If I know Sora, she's probably thinking ’fuck the Dwemer, bunch of thundering cockgoblins!’ or… well, you get the idea.” She had tried her best to mimic Sora's voice, but she wasn't much of an impressionist. At least the colourful language was about right.

“Cockgoblins, huh?” Gregor raised an eyebrow and put his hands on his hips. “Look at you, all uncouth like that. I fear that associating with that rabble has been a bad influence on you. Shame. But you’re right. Perhaps the news of Rourken’s death will be of some comfort to her.”

He smiled and a thought came to him. “How about you go and take a nice, relaxing bath, and after that, since words won’t do the job, I’ll show you just how grateful I am,” he said and took a step closer, looking down into her bright blue eyes, his fingers brushing against her hips.

She narrowed her eyes and smirked at him, “is that your nicest way of telling me I look terrible and need to clean myself up?” She laughed and her fingers found his, making a note to remember him in this moment. “But alright, this might well be my last chance to take a real bath for the foreseeable future. I'll have Rhoka draw one.” Raelynn pushed herself up onto the tips of her toes to plant a kiss on Gregor's lips softly, humming against them with her chest pressed to his. As she came back down to her height, she gave his fingers a playful squeeze before making her way out of the room. Deliberately wiggling her hips as she went. “Don't go anywhere now…” she purred over her shoulder towards him, her own way of taking in one last look at him standing under the skylight, smiling, bathed in the sunlight.