TES: The Collector Chronicles
Chapter Two - A Thief's Hand
As the group cast aside the bandit, and leave him to scamper off, they rejoice collectively in Seryn's discovery. Although, they first make sure he is
one of them, before breaking out smiles, and hatching plans for their return to Cyrodiil. Seryn holds up a crumpled parchment bearing The Collector's sigil, and all is well.
"Well done," calls a stranger, fast approaching from Helgen's gateway.
The stranger is a tall man, an Imperial if one were not to be mistaken, clad in tight fitting leather, and soaked in a voluminous black robe. His skin is impossibly pale, and his cheeks inhumanly gaunt. His red eyes are the first sign of what he is. He keeps his hood low, blocking the sun's rays from touching his face.
"I am ... a friend of a friend," he says as he draws near; his voice takes on a hissing quality. "And that friend of a friend is most pleased, I can assure you, that you have obtained Helgen's last bottle of mead with juniper berries."
The stranger walks up to Seryn, and snatches the bottle from him in a lightning fast motion. His hood flys back, only for a second, and his skin reddens as if burning. As it descends back over his brow, his pale complexion returns. The group steel themselves, thinking they are being robbed by a Vampire Lord no less - but he holds up a gloved palm.
"So hasty to violence? All for 60,000 septims? My, my, our benefactor has chosen most wisely," he says, chuckling coldly. "Rest assured, that I am here to offer you payment for your services. There is a cart outside the gate, and inside that cart you will find some bags the size of a small child. Take them, they are yours -- but, but, The Collector has an offer to make."
Pocketing the bottle of mead into his robes, the stranger's red eyes flicker across the members of the group with an alien emotion... or perhaps hunger?
"I shall be brief, for the sunlight dislikes me, and shade can only do so much. There is a Dunmer Thief, by the name of Arvel the Swift, who has occup- had occupied the ancient Nordic tomb of Bleak Falls Barrow, a few miles north of here. He is dead, and so are his bandit lackys - slain, by a mortal being of tremendous power... however, it would seem that our benefactor desires Arvel's right hand. That is to say, he wants you to remove that hand from Arvel's corpse, and return it to him. In doing so, your payment shall be increased to 120,000 septims."
The stranger turns, and heads back towards the gate. The group debate their next course of action.
Take the 60,000, or double it?
As the discussion grows, they pause with bemused faces as the stranger suddenly vanishes - as if into thin air.
Jo'Resfo shrugs. "This be enough blood money for Jo'Resfo," he says with an amused smile, "besides, it be bad for Khajiits to mix with vampires." With that, he heads off towards the gate to collect his reward.
The others decide against collecting their due. The Nordic tomb is only a day's walk at most, and how hard can it be to harvest a hand from a dead man? They assemble, and begin the journey - just as another of The Collector's hopefuls, Daleeza, an Argonian wizard of sorts, walks into Helgen from the town's other gate. After taking in the scene of destruction and death with a bemused glance, he exchanges greetings with the group, and they explain to him their new assignment. He agrees to go with them, even though he'll probably only receive the initial 60,000 he was promised for the bottle of mead, for helping in retrieving the hand.
The group set off, leaving the ruins of Helgen behind them; believing all the while that the Imperial fort town was merely the victim of some bandit or Stormcloak raid.
